Why NHL Enforcer John Scott left Hockey Allstars... and took 10 years to become Catholic
D-Day Courage, Hockey Brawls, and Raising Kids Without Screens: How John Scott Defines of Heroism
John Scott walks through D-Day courage, NHL brawls, and a 10-year conversion that redefined heroism for him. Now a father of eight and a daily-Mass guy who still builds a backyard rink and plays poker with friends, he talks about unplugging the house, locking down devices, and protecting his daughters from a porn-soaked culture. Above all, he wants to use his old NHL platform to reach kids and teens who are starving for real role models and to show them that a normal, happy Catholic life is not only possible, it’s the real win.
D-DAY ON REPEAT IN HIS MIND
In Canada each November, people pin red poppies to their coats to remember veterans. For John Scott, that act always pulls his mind back to one image of heroism.
“It’s on D-Day when they storm the beaches of Normandy,” Scott said. “The idea of literally diving off of a boat, storming beaches, and scaling a huge, 100-foot sand dune in front of you? Plus you’re getting bombed with no real hope to survive…
“I admire the medics. They didn’t have guns to fight back. They’re just trying to help and save people,” he said. “That’s my idea of heroism.”
Scott has devoured World War II books since he was a kid. He never found a family connection to that war, but the scale of it all still marks him.
“Going up against that insurmountable force, that wall of guns and artillery, and just saying, ‘We have to do this or else evil will win,’… I can’t imagine how scary it would have been on that boat and the approach and you’re just getting shelled,” he said.
“And then they tell you, ‘Okay, now get off.’” He chuckles. “I’d rather stay on the boat, thank you.”
FROM NHL FIGHTS TO FEAR
Scott spent years living with his own kind of fear in the NHL. The retired defenseman is known to fans as an enforcer who dropped the gloves often.
“It pales in comparison to Normandy. It’s not life or death,” he said of hockey. “But yeah, I was in the NHL. It was very stressful, and especially the position that I played. I was often getting into fights.”
His fear wasn’t bullets. It was humiliation.
“You want to win and do your best, not get embarrassed and lose a fight,” he said. “The worst thing you can do is lose a fight in front of 20,000 people. It’s never fun.”
He learned to push through it.
“I think I’ve learned to overcome those fears in a certain way, whether it’s with better preparation, or just saying, ‘Go for it, let’s see how this goes,’” he said.
THE HARDEST DECISION: TEN YEARS TO BAPTISM
The toughest decision in Scott’s life didn’t involve skates or fists. It was whether to become Catholic.
“The hardest decisions I think I had to make was becoming Catholic,” he said. “It was a long time, because my wife was a cradle Catholic. When we married, one of her contingencies was that we’d raise our kids in the faith. I said that was fine.”
He started going to church with her. She didn’t pressure him to convert, but he knew what was on the table.
“I was an absolute non-religious,” he said. “It’s not that I didn’t believe in a higher power. I wasn’t exposed to anything as a child.”
He understood the weight of what he was being asked to do.
“I knew the immensity of the decision, to the point where I went through RCIA three times,” he said. “The first two times I just didn’t buy in. And it took me a long time, 10 years, to really get it.”
Twice he finished classes and was offered baptism. Twice he walked away.
“For some reason, I could not do that,” he said. “It didn’t seem right yet.”
Looking back, he sees protection in that hesitation.
“I think that was my guardian angel saying, don’t just do this haphazardly to make your wife happy,” he said. “I really had to read about the martyrs, read about the saints, read about the Church history and the Fathers and all the things that go along with it.”
When he finally entered the Church near the end of his career, he was sure.
“I’m glad I waited because it was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever done,” he said. “It was fantastic. And I’ll never regret doing it that route, even though it took me 10 years to get there.”
WHY HOCKEY CULTURE AND FAITH CLASHED
Part of Scott’s delay came from knowing his life would have to change.
“I grew up playing hockey. I think the typical hockey player is not someone you want to look up to,” he said. “It’s not someone I would point my kids toward and say, that’s who you want to be.”
He includes himself in that critique.
“I was a part of that group where it’s just like, we play hockey, we fight, we drink, we chase women, those sorts of things,” he said. “And that didn’t jive with the Catholic faith. It just doesn’t. It’s oil and water.”
The more he learned about what the Church expected, the harder it was to ignore the gap.
“The more I learned about what I should be doing and how I should be living my life, it contrasted with how I was living my life,” he said. “Did I have the guts to swim against the current?”
Slowly he started saying no to his current life. “It was difficult at the beginning to go against the norm,” he said.
A NATURAL PROTECTOR WHO NEVER CHASED TRENDS
That willingness to go against the flow was already built into him. “I was never someone to fall into the trends.”
He describes himself in simple terms.
“I was always a natural kind of protector,” he said. “I just tried to help the people that needed help. Maybe that played a part in me just having that fortitude. I’m decided that not doing specific things. They’re not good, so let’s go against that.”
In his mind, toughness and indifference to trends go together.
“Not caring and being tough, I guess, were the two things that helped,” he said.
SAINTS, A MARTYR’S TOMB AND A WORKING-CLASS HERO
Once in the Church, Scott found particular allies.
“In the faith, I look to St. Sebastian,” he said. “I always pray to him. I think he was fantastic. And Louis Martin. I have a gaggle of kids, so those two I always pray to. They’re my guys.”
St. Sebastian’s story, he said, looks like defiance.
“The patron saint of athletes, and I just loved his story, how he went against the Romans and he just held his ground,” Scott said. “I went to his tomb a couple of years ago in Rome, and man, that was very powerful. Just to be there in the catacombs was pretty epic.”
The hero who came into focus later was closer to home: his father.
“It didn’t take grip or hold until later on in my life,” Scott said. “We didn’t have the closest relationship, but growing up I resented him for a long time. Later I realized that he was gone so much because he worked his tail off.”
The routine was the same for years.
“I would wake up and he’d be gone, and I would get home from school and he wouldn’t get home until 6, 7 p.m. at night,” he said. “The only times I would see him was when he would drive me to hockey practice or to a game.”
Only as an adult did he see those drives and long hours differently.
“He was a great dad. We didn’t have the ‘Love you, Dad, love you, son’ relationship,” Scott said. “It didn’t sink in until later in life where I realized he did love me. He did a lot for me. He busted his hump to get me to 5 a.m. practice. Hockey isn’t cheap. He was pinching pennies and rubbing quarters together to make things go. In spite of everything, I still had skates and gloves and helmets, and I played on the best team.”
“That formed me to who I am today and how I try to raise my kids,” he added. “It just didn’t click until I was 35, 40 years old where I was like, damn, what a guy.”
A TORNADO, A TRAILER AND A SWALLOWED PRIDE
One story from his father’s life stands out.
“I’m Canadian, so I grew up in Edmonton, and a big tornado ripped through our trailer,” Scott said. “We lived in a trailer park. We didn’t have much money.”
The storm took everything.
“One tornado took our trailer out and we had nowhere to go,” he said. “My dad had three kids. He was just a construction guy, didn’t make a ton of money.”
Faced with that, his father did the one thing most men dread.
“He kind of swallowed his pride and said, We’re going to go move in with my mom,” Scott said.
“We moved all the way from Western Canada to Eastern Ontario and we lived with his mom for two or three years while he scraped together money to buy a house,” he said. “He sold his prized motorcycle to kind of put the final payment down. It just started our life, even though we had absolutely nothing.”
Scott sees that moment differently now that he is a father.
“Living with his mom when he’s 30-some years old with three kids is a hit to the pride,” he said. “But he wanted to provide for his family. Looking at it now as a father, I don’t know how you could do that, to just humble yourself to say, I have nothing. Can you please help me?”
AN IDENTITY STRIPPED AWAY AT 35
Scott’s own turning point came around the same age — about 35 — when everything that had defined him fell away.
“I retired from hockey and we had just had our fourth child,” he said. “My whole life changed. Till then, I was hockey. That’s all I was known for for 30 years,” he said. “In school, in university, in professional ranks… Everyone said Johnny plays hockey.’ That was stripped away from me.”
He had to ask a basic question.
“Now it’s like, okay, who am I? How do I navigate the next 35 years of my life, plus?” he said.
At the same time, he finally entered the Church.
“Thank goodness that I had my wife, I had my kids, but I had my faith,” he said. “This is more important to me know than who I was then, and what I was doing. It was a godsend, honestly, moving away from that.”
The contrast in his happiness surprised him.
“Now I’m way more happier than I’ve ever been,” he said. “I was doing some pretty cool stuff, but now I’m so much more at peace and fulfilled with my life. It’s kind of funny how it works.”
WHAT CONTENTMENT LOOKS LIKE NOW
Scott’s definition of success changed. “Now, it’s about being content with what you have and knowing what’s important,” he said.
He had once believed the NHL was the summit.
“I used to think, and I’m sure everybody has this story, but I thought making the NHL I was going to be super happy,” he said. “Millions of dollars, getting whatever you want… I had it all. But then you get there and you look around, and you realize it’s not so great.”
He was always hungering for more. “So you want more and more and more, and you still can’t fill that hole inside you,” he said.
The external life kept climbing — private jets, celebrity friends, the trappings of elite sports — but the interior wasn’t filling up.
“I was around celebrities and professional athletes,” he said. “I would fly private jets and all that. I lived that, and then was still unhappy. You see it affects your marriage. Your kids aren’t happy. They never see you, and you still have regular life issues like everyone else.”
Retirement exposed the gap even more.
“Then I retire and I had no income,” he said. “But I got baptized. Then I started to dig into the faith and realize the cause of true happiness.”
His friendship circle shifted.
“I lost friends who were pro athletes and celebrities and these higher echelon people… well, I thought they were my friends,” he said. “Now I hang out with janitors and electricians and I’m so happy, which is bizarre.”
The paycheck changed too.
“I make a fraction of what I ever did,” he said. “I have eight kids and I’m changing diapers and I’m running after them and I couldn’t imagine being any more happier.”
The difference, he said, is knowing the end of the story.
“Yes, it’s still difficult, but I know what the end game is,” he said. “I’m actually building up currency to try to get to heaven one day. So that’s the end game for me.”
NON-NEGOTIABLES: MASS, MEALS AND THE ROSARY
Today Scott is a speaker, husband and father of eight. He keeps the structure of his life simple: faith first.
“I think that’s why marriage is such a beautiful thing,” he said. “My wife makes sure that I’m on the straight and narrow, because she knows that I’m the head of the household. Where I go, everybody follows me. She keeps me honest.”
If he slacks off, she says it.
“If I stray, if I’m not doing my prayers or I’m just kind of slacking, she’ll ping me and say, let’s go,” he said.
He also had to learn to say no to appearances that conflict with the family’s core routines.
“I have lots of opportunities to do events and appearances and stuff because of my hockey career,” he said. “I have to turn them down because we have non-negotiables in our family.”
The list is basic and focused.
“We obviously do Mass,” he said. “My wife and kids go to Mass daily. I do four or five days a week. We do rosaries. We’re doing the Angelus. We do morning prayers. Any chance that we get to pray together, we try to take advantage of it.”
Another rule is eating together.
“We eat together,” he said. “We sit down and we have a meal together every single night as a family. I feel like that’s lost in today’s society where everybody’s trying to catch the carrot, the rat race, and everybody’s trying to get money and stuff.”
The family also did something radical.
“We completely unplugged,” he said. “My wife homeschools. We got rid of our TV. We just completely focus on our kids and our faith.”
The result, he said, is simple.
“So far, it’s been fantastic,” he said. “I think all our kids are really great kids and our marriage has never been stronger. And yeah, we have issues with money sometimes and we have issues with life, but it’s all part of the game. It’s all part of the journey, and it’s been working so far.”
His personal prayer anchors are fixed.
“I do have my non-negotiables where I do an adoration hour every week,” he said. “I do a rosary every day. I try to say the Angelus if I can catch it at 12 and 6. I’m at home eating with my family. There’s no ifs, ands, or buts about those things because I feel like those are the core of our kind of family.”
LEARNING NOT TO BURN OUT ON FAITH
That kind of intensity once tipped over for him.
“There was a time where I went all in on the faith and I did get burned out,” he said. Now he makes room for simple fun.
“I have a great group of friends who are all Catholic, thanks be to God,” he said. “We have poker nights. I play hockey with my priests and my buddies every Sunday night.”
He even built a rink in his yard.
“I have a rink at my house and my kids skate around and we balance it all with fun,” he said. He wants to avoid scrupulosity but still live normally.
“I don’t want to be scrupulous,” he said. “I still want to live a regular life and be a normal guy.”
That includes the occasional round of golf.
“I go out and have drinks with my buddies and we golf and we do these things,” he said. “I probably golf four times a year, tops. But when I do, it’s fun and we have a cigar and a little bourbon.”
He thinks that witness matters.
“I feel like it’s good to just be out there and to engage with people. To be like, hey, I’m Catholic, I’m a normal guy, I’m fun to be around,” he said. “Just show people that you’re happy. We have to show people we’re not ‘weird Catholics’. We’re just normal, happy people, and people will be drawn to that.”
IF HE HAD A MILLION DOLLARS
When asked how he would use a million dollars to advance the kingdom of God, Scott didn’t hesitate to localize it.
“Specifically, this is just me and our diocese, I would put the majority of it into vocations,” he said. “I feel like it’s just lacking.”
He thinks young men are being called. He wants to make that path more attractive on the ground.
“Give them some cool digs or revamp a school or just really make it inviting for a young teenage boy to explore a priestly vocation, because I just think there’s a need for that, especially in our diocese where we need priests,” he said.
WHO HE WANTS TO BE A HERO FOR
Scott is clear about who he wants to pour himself out for. He skips the easy answer.
“The cliche answer is my kids, but I’m not going to do that,” he said.
He knows the platform behind him when he speaks — framed jerseys, memorabilia, the record of his NHL career — gives him credibility with certain audiences.
“I’ve been blessed to be able to do these talks,” he said. “I haven’t been burnt out by them and I think I do serve a purpose where I have this platform to get my message out there.”
He focuses especially on the young.
“I want to impact the people I come across, specifically kids, younger kids, teenagers,” he said. “I think I can relate to them because of my hockey career.”
Seeing even small fruit from his talks keeps him going.
“I’ve had some feedback where it’s amazing when you do impact somebody’s life. It’s so powerful,” he said. “Because I’m just a normal dude. I’ve been able to talk to thousands of people, and it’s been really neat to see the results of that.”
WHAT HE THINKS YOUNG PEOPLE ARE UP AGAINST
Scott doesn’t sugarcoat what he thinks is attacking the kids he cares about. He starts with the obvious enemy. “The biggest thing is just pornography,” he said.
He also points to a culture that mocks faith or treats it as irrelevant.
“Society as a whole downplays the importance of faith or outright makes fun of it. It’s a huge issue,” he said.
Young people, he said, are under pressure to live a life that looks nothing like the Gospel.
“Having the courage to live your faith and say that you are a good, upstanding Christian Catholic person in person is tough,” he said. “Everybody wants you to be a philanderer and a womanizer, to be cool and have cars and clothes and this and that and the other thing… It’s all the opposite of what you should be focused on.”
The role models they see on screens don’t help.
“It’s just a shame the role models these kids have when you turn on the TV,” he said. “Who do they have to look up to? There’s no one in politics, there’s no one in sports, there’s no one in movies. There’s nobody anywhere for them to look up to on a large scale.”
He is convinced the hunger is still there.
“There’s a need, and I think the kids want that because they realize what they’re doing isn’t good,” he said.
HOW HE CALLS DADS TO FIGHT BACK
Speaking mostly to fathers, Scott says the response has to start at home.
“It starts in the house and I kind of mentioned it earlier,” he said. “We got rid of all technology and that was difficult. We unplugged everything. We have no TVs. When we get in our house, we try to put our phones away. Obviously it’s impossible, but they’re away.”
The computer is locked down.
“We have Covenant Eyes on our computer, so anytime they use a computer, it’s protected and the kids are safe,” he said.
He also watches who has access to his children.
“The hard part is we limit who the kids hang out with,” he said. “And it stinks, but you can’t unsee something.”
With eight daughters, he feels the pressure.
“I have eight daughters and so I feel like I have even more pressure because girls, they’re so pure and they’re just beautiful creatures. I don’t want them to be tainted,” he said. “You can’t unsee pornography or a picture or anything.”
The kids don’t always understand.
“It stinks for the kid because they think you’re just being too heavy-handed,” he said.
But he looks at his 13-year-old and sees why it’s worth it.
“At the end of the day, if I can keep my 13-year-old still innocent and a kid and not caring about how much makeup she has or what Taylor Swift is doing, I think I’m doing a good job,” he said. “So far, my 13-year-old is still a kid. She’s very smart and very bright and very innocent.”