By Ella Durchin

Photos by Sydney Becker (left) and Lucas Carroll (right)

To the gentlemen who reminded me that the universal experience of joy through heartbreak is evident. To the men who have endured much more than anyone should in their college trajectory– but continue to speak, to be kind, and to show unwavering compassion in their every move. 

To the coach who leads the boys by example and continues to teach these boys how to be men. 

To Dayton Clarke's loved ones, may his vibrant and lively being always be cherished.

And to Henry Bradford, who I was lucky enough to know his triumphant soul. 

The bite of steel on ice, quick cuts, short stops, and blades grinding with purpose. Arena lights hum above the oval rink while sticks rattle against the boards. It’s senior night at the Rink Exchange in Eugene, and the crowd is the biggest it’s ever been. 

Parents of hockey players flew into town to stand beside friends and cheer in the stands. Jerseys worn with pride swoosh across the ice. But one jersey is left stagnant on the bench, with no player to wear it. 

The University of Oregon (UO) hockey team lines up shoulder to shoulder on the line, eyes locked on the puck about to drop. They’re smiling, kind of. Focused. Quiet. Unburdened by the pressure to win, they stand on the ice a little looser than usual, but heavy with purpose. 

The term brotherhood on its own is such a cliché — as if the simple act of friendship between males somehow translates into unity. The word may be overused, especially in men’s athletic departments, but one piece remains undeniable: brotherhood can heal.

“When I came to Oregon, I was playing hockey for myself,” says Jackson Henningsgard, co-president of the UO club hockey team. At 5 '10 and 175 pounds, with sun-bleached hair, a constant easy grin and a uniform of T-shirts and lounge pants, Henningsgard looks like the kind of guy who could blend in with a skatepark or surf break — but on ice, he's all grit. 

Henningsgard’s hockey career at UO began in 2022 in a deep green home that felt lived-in and chaotic: stained windows, an overgrown lawn, and cluttered hockey equipment that reeked of sweat. 

He roomed with teammates Roddy Peterson, Isaiah Strategos, and Liam Baird. The three took him under their wing. 

When they weren't at the rink practicing drills, lifting weights, or traveling for games, the roommates were cooped up together. Despite their busy lives, they always made time for each other. 

The 2022 season started, and a clear divide on the team was apparent. Cliques with team members formed, and individual players’ only goal was to score the most points. The coach at the time supported the egos that were shown on the ice. 

Peterson suggested that many new players may have expected more from the team, whether that was sportsmanship, playing time, or even just a supportive group. Other team members held an apparent mindset of “I am the best,” which worsened egos and strained team dynamics. 

“The other teammates played with an ego, but Peterson and Strategos never did,” says Henningsgard.

Off the ice, the mesh of personalities on the team created a lively atmosphere and cultivated lasting memories. Whether it was the time spent relaxing on their off days or celebrating their work at the campus bar, the team made sure to have fun. 

Dayton Clarke,#18 and a forward during the 2022 season, was one character whose personality will always be remembered. He played with a constant smile on his face and made sure to carry it with him off the ice, too. 

“Clarke was a riot. He made everyone around him laugh and always had a smile on his face,” says Peterson. 

On May 13, 2022, Mother’s Day weekend, the players and their mothers celebrated at Henningsgard and his roommates’ green house. The night was a stereotypical college night for the hockey team. Clarke, always the life of the party, was entrenched in the festivities. The team partied, laughed, and enjoyed each other's company at the season's end. 

Clarke never made it home. On the way back from the celebration, he was hit by a delivery truck on his walk and died on the scene. 

Henningsgard, Peterson, Strategos, and Baird all found out about Clarke’s passing through an email sent by the general manager of hockey operations the following morning. An eerie silence filled the house while the boys sat with each other, in shock at the news. At that moment, the boys relied on each other more than ever. 

After the passing of Clarke, an immediate shift in the dynamic of the team occurred. The season had just ended, but the players still had training and kept each other close. Egos were pushed aside to prioritize supporting one another. Clarke’s family traveled to Eugene numerous times to collect his belongings and grieve with the players. 

“I think how strong the team came together helped [Clarke’s mom] and her family,” says Peterson. Many of the players also traveled to Victoria, B.C., for Clarke’s funeral service. 

The next season approached, and Clarke’s jersey hung on the bench. Some players who were exceptionally close to Clarke left the school and the team because of the tragedy. 

On top of dealing with the loss of a player, the team gained a new coach, Jackson Hyman. 

When Hyman first met the team, he invited them to his apartment and asked each member individually what their goals were for the season. 

“Almost all of the players responded saying that they want to score this many points, this many goals, or that they want more playing time,” says Hyman. He realized that what the team needed most wasn't about finding value through winning or losing, but seeking fulfillment as a team. 

Under the care of Hyman, an entirely new bond was built. Through the loss of Clarke and the attention that the coach put on his players, the previous ego and stiff shoulders from teammates left for good. 

For the 2023-24 season, Henningsgard moved out of the prior home and relocated into a cornflower blue house with six other guys. The house coined the nickname, “the hockey house.” Peterson and Strategos roomed together for their final year at UO near the hockey house. During this time, their inner circle expanded. Another goalie alongside Peterson, Henry Bradford, became a core member of the group. 

In a season where wins and losses didn’t matter – the team ranked in the top 50. They were nothing exceptional, but what was worth noticing was how close the players got to one another. They built friendships with every team member and emphasized brotherhood as a whole. 

At the end of the year, Strategos and Peterson both graduated and moved away. Peterson moved to Nashville, Tennessee to pursue his career in digital media and Strategos moved back home to California to work as a data analyst. Leaving the team was hard for Peterson, but he tried to savor every moment he could with them. 

“It was the closest group of friends I’ve ever had, and probably will ever have,” says Peterson. 

The team for Peterson was much more than just a sport – it was his family. They shared laughs while dealing with breakups, loss, and enjoyed all the complicated bits of what life is like for a college athlete.

The 2024 hockey season started with Henningsgard as co-president and Henry Bradford as the lead goalie. The team was hopeful, and the team dynamic was strong. 

“Bradford was one of those guys who I could go to for anything and he would always listen. We never fought and we always had fun together,” says Henningsgard. 

Whether they were in season with their busy schedules or in off-season with time to kill, Henningsgard and Bradford were always together. Henningsgard admired Bradford's old-school country music taste and the two found peace while watching hockey. 

“It was never like, ‘Oh I need to do this with [Bradford]’, it was like, ‘Oh I can do everything with him,’” says Henningsgard. 

Bradford lived alone and preferred it that way. But as their friendship blossomed and roommates graduated, the idea of Henningsgard and Bradford being roommates came into the picture. 

“I couldn’t wait to live with him. I knew he would be a great roommate and it would just be fun,” says Henningsgard. 

But the two never had the chance to be roommates. 

Each season, the veterans of the team put together a “rookie” night for the new players. The event has some sort of mischievous activity and scavenger hunt for the rookies, followed by a party. 

Bradford was in charge of putting together the scavenger hunt. When it was time to begin, the team called Bradford, who was nowhere to be found. An abundance of missed phone calls and his absence made the team worry.

A few members of the team, Henningsgard included, went over to Bradford’s apartment. When they tried the front door, it was locked and uneasily quiet. The boys were worried, so they called for the door to be unlocked so they could check in on Bradford.

After accessing the door, the group found Bradford. He had passed away from an unexpectedly.

“I remember exactly what I was wearing, I remember the cold apartment, and I remember the exact feeling – it’s something I’ll never be able to forget,” says Henningsgard. 

It wasn’t the first time the team had been shaken by tragedy – and for Henningsgard, the grief was no less devastating the second time around. 

When Coach Hyman heard his phone ring that night, he thought the boys were calling because they had gotten in trouble. What Hyman didn’t expect was Henningsgard’s broken muffles over the phone, struggling to repeat that they had found Bradford dead. About 10 minutes later, Hyman immediately showed up at the hockey house. 

“It was just a shock. It was unexpected. I mean, we hung out with Bradford that Friday morning and everything was fine,” says Hyman. 

The porch that the team always laughed on was now covered in tears. 

Silence followed the boys for a few days. Henningsgard needed familiar shoulders to cry on. Peterson and Strategos were soon on a flight back to Eugene to mourn the loss of their teammate. 

After grieving with the team, Bradford’s family asked some of the players to help clean out Bradford’s apartment. This was difficult for everyone, but especially hard for the players who initially found Bradford. 

“I don’t think it ever truly set in for me until I left Bradford’s empty apartment and drove away in his truck,” says Peterson. 

Friends delivered food for the players, the school offered support, and family came to town to aid the players. The teammates aided one another by recounting their favorite memories with Bradford, all while playing that unique country music that he enjoyed. 

Bradford was loved deeply – as a player, as a family member, and as a radiant human. 

The hockey season kept going, but the boys played every game in tribute to the members they had lost. Every game, Clarke and Bradford’s jerseys hang on the players’ bench. In honor, the boys hosted a memorial game for Henry Bradford on November 1st– what would’ve been his 23rd birthday. The team continues to come together for each member struggling with grief and stands as a united front. 

Henningsgard used to play hockey for himself and to win, but now he plays for his team, for Clarke, and for Bradford.