Joe Murphy, Red Wings' No. 1 pick, is homeless again and refusing help
KENORA, Ontario – Joe Murphy wanders outside in a steady rain, eventually finding a place to sleep for the night in the doorway of a small restaurant.
His black tennis shoes are soaking wet and the bottom of his feet have pruned and turned bright white.
Murphy, selected by the Detroit Red Wings with the No. 1 overall pick in 1986, earned more than $13 million while playing 15 seasons in the NHL, but he is homeless again, just like last year. He doesn’t own socks, so he rips a T-shirt into strips and wraps them around his ankles.
“These are my socks right now,” Murphy says. “My feet have gone all white. Freakin’ nasty. I don’t need to remove my toes, I don’t think. But it’s going to be stinging and nasty, right?”
Dozens of people have tried to get Murphy off the streets of this small tourist town the past two years, including the NHL Alumni Association, members of the local police department, former teammates, his lawyer and an entire team of mental health experts and social workers. He refuses almost all of it.
Murphy stayed in an extended-stay motel paid by the NHL Alumni Association for several months last winter but moved out, although he can’t offer a coherent reason. He spent time at a hospital in Thunder Bay, Ontario, on the banks of Lake Superior, for a court-ordered mental-health evaluation. But he’s back in Kenora. He slept in a tent but he says it ripped. And now, he is back sleeping on benches, in doorways, inside a tunnel and under a gas station sign at the edge of this town of about 15,000, about 340 miles north of Minneapolis.
Continued from
The new and improved concussion thread
KENORA, Ontario – Joe Murphy wanders outside in a steady rain, eventually finding a place to sleep for the night in the doorway of a small restaurant.
His black tennis shoes are soaking wet and the bottom of his feet have pruned and turned bright white.
Murphy, selected by the Detroit Red Wings with the No. 1 overall pick in 1986, earned more than $13 million while playing 15 seasons in the NHL, but he is homeless again, just like last year. He doesn’t own socks, so he rips a T-shirt into strips and wraps them around his ankles.
“These are my socks right now,” Murphy says. “My feet have gone all white. Freakin’ nasty. I don’t need to remove my toes, I don’t think. But it’s going to be stinging and nasty, right?”
Dozens of people have tried to get Murphy off the streets of this small tourist town the past two years, including the NHL Alumni Association, members of the local police department, former teammates, his lawyer and an entire team of mental health experts and social workers. He refuses almost all of it.
Murphy stayed in an extended-stay motel paid by the NHL Alumni Association for several months last winter but moved out, although he can’t offer a coherent reason. He spent time at a hospital in Thunder Bay, Ontario, on the banks of Lake Superior, for a court-ordered mental-health evaluation. But he’s back in Kenora. He slept in a tent but he says it ripped. And now, he is back sleeping on benches, in doorways, inside a tunnel and under a gas station sign at the edge of this town of about 15,000, about 340 miles north of Minneapolis.
Continued from
The new and improved concussion thread