Media needs to be better when it comes to covering the difficult issues in hockey

Here’s the truth. I drank. Probably before I met my boyfriend at the Toronto Island ferry. It was the summer of 2020, and I was always buzzed. Sometimes I drank a whole carton of wine on the other side of the lake before getting onto the boat. Sometimes I’d show up early on the island and sit in a park and down a mickey of vodka before seeing him, and then I’d gently twist his proverbial arm, and we’d have more drinks at the restaurant’s tiki bar. My boyfriend and I in Muskoka chairs on the lawn by the bar, with beers or ciders, watching and occasionally talking to whoever would stop by...