Bash McMurray: The Enforcer With a Past
Born on a frigid January night in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan, in 1988, Sebastian “Bash” McMurray entered the world fists-first and seemingly destined for the penalty box. Raised in a rough-and-tumble neighborhood where a hockey stick was as common as a snow shovel, Bash was the youngest of five brothers, all of whom played hockey with the kind of reckless abandon that would give most coaches heart palpitations. But Bash was different. Even as a kid, he didn’t just play hockey — he fought it.
From a young age, Bash displayed a natural talent for two things: skating and scrapping. While other kids practiced slapshots, Bash perfected the art of dropping gloves. His youth league coaches would later recall how he “couldn’t go two shifts without punching someone,” but also how he’d somehow charm them afterward with his signature crooked grin. He was a contradiction on ice: equal parts menace and charisma.
By age 15, he was banned from nearly every minor league in the province for racking up more penalty minutes than points. But word of his brutal style — and surprising on-ice awareness — began to spread beyond local rinks. Scouts from junior leagues started to take notice, not necessarily for his stats, but for the fear he instilled in opponents. Bash didn’t just intimidate — he controlled the ice with his presence alone.
The Rise and Rumbles
At 17, Bash was picked up by the Kamloops Blaze of the WHL. It was here that he earned the nickname “The McMangler” after delivering a now-infamous hit that sent three players — three — tumbling like bowling pins. Despite regular suspensions, his enforcer role gave the Blaze’s skilled players the room they needed to thrive. Bash was never the top scorer, but he was always the first name on the lineup sheet when the team traveled into hostile territory.
But behind the scenes, Bash’s life was spinning out of control. Struggling with anger issues and a brewing addiction to painkillers after a string of injuries, he found himself spiraling into bar fights, run-ins with the law, and even a short stint in juvenile detention. Many believed his career would flame out before it ever truly began.
A Second Shot in the Big Leagues
Against all odds, Bash was selected 186th overall in the 2007 NHL Entry Draft by the Boston Bruins — a team known for giving troubled players a shot. Their gamble paid off, at least in terms of entertainment value. Bash made his debut with the Bruins during a particularly brutal stretch of games that saw the team plagued by injuries and morale issues. Bash was sent in to “light a fire,” and light it he did — picking fights with half the opposing bench, riling up the crowd, and getting ejected in under eight minutes.
The fans loved him.
He soon became a cult hero in Boston. Wearing number 72 and sporting a beard that looked like it had its own zip code, Bash embodied old-school hockey: gritty, unapologetic, and chaotic. His slapshot was mediocre, his skating was passable, but his hits were the stuff of legend. In one game, he shattered the glass with a hit so hard it delayed the game for 40 minutes and sparked a bench-clearing brawl. It wasn’t pretty — but it was Bash.
The Pros of Bash
Bash McMurray’s presence on the ice had undeniable advantages:
1. Fear Factor: Opposing teams were more cautious, knowing Bash was always one line change away from sending a message with his fists.
2. Locker Room Loyalty: Teammates adored him. He stood up for rookies, protected stars, and brought levity to tense situations with his absurd sense of humor (he once skated onto the ice in a fake mullet wig for warmups).
3. Media Magnet: Whether it was for his controversial comments, bizarre Instagram videos (like the time he wrestled a wild turkey), or post-game interviews that made zero sense, Bash kept the spotlight on the team — often distracting from poor performances.
4.Heart: Despite his antics, Bash had an unshakable love for the game. He gave 100%, even when his body couldn’t. He played through broken fingers, separated shoulders, and once, the flu so severe he had to be carried off the ice afterward.
The Cons and Crashes
But the Bash train came with its share of wreckage:
1. Discipline Issues: Bash led the league in penalty minutes for four consecutive seasons. Coaches were constantly forced to juggle lines when he found himself in the box — again.
2. Off-Ice Chaos: DUIs, fights, late-night tweets, and a failed MMA crossover stunt where he broke his wrist in a pre-fight brawl. His off-ice behavior often overshadowed his contributions to the team.
3. Health Decline: Years of hard hits and harder living caught up with him. Concussions, chronic pain, and long-term damage forced him to miss significant time in his later seasons.
4. Tensions with Management: Bash clashed with several coaches and GMs over his role, always believing he could contribute more than just fists. One coach described him as “the most lovable, infuriating guy I’ve ever coached.”
The Fall and the Fadeaway
By age 33, Bash’s body was failing him. Slower, angrier, and battling substance issues again, he retired mid-season after a violent on-ice incident that saw him suspended indefinitely. Fans were divided — some called it the end of an era, others said it was long overdue.
Bash retreated to northern Alberta, where he opened a small gym called “The Penalty Box,” offering training for at-risk youth and aspiring enforcers. He also launched a podcast called “Chirp and Smash”, blending locker room tales, fight stories, and surprisingly heartfelt advice on mental health in pro sports.
Despite the chaos, Bash McMurray remains a polarizing figure in hockey folklore. Some say he set the game back 20 years. Others say he was the last real warrior. Love him or hate him, no one forgot him. And now nobody has to because he is bringing his talents to the VHL.
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