“I hit them… my life is over.” The alleged drunk driver’s frantic confession to cops—moments after mowing down NHL superstar and his brother on their bikes, leaving two families shattered in an instant.

He begged for mercy, spilled every detail… then lawyered up to torch the evidence before trial.

Now his bombshell hearing exposed .087 BAC, no remorse, and a 70-year sentence hanging over his head.

NHL fans are boiling.

In a packed courtroom thick with tension and the ghosts of two young lives cut short, Sean Higgins stared down his own words on October 29, 2025: “I hit them… my life is over.”

The 44-year-old carpenter from Woodstown, New Jersey, accused of drunkenly slamming his Ford F-150 into NHL star Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew as they biked home from a family wedding, is now desperately clawing to bury those confessions before trial. Higgins, facing up to 70 years behind bars on charges of reckless vehicular homicide and aggravated manslaughter, argued through his attorney that the statements—spilled in a haze of panic to four responding officers—were coerced and involuntary. But as prosecutors replayed bodycam footage and hospital audio, the hearing devolved into a raw showdown, forcing jurors-to-be to relive the August 29, 2024, horror that robbed hockey of one of its brightest lights and left a family in ruins.

The crash unfolded like a nightmare on a quiet rural stretch of County Route 551 near Swedesboro, New Jersey—just miles from the Gaudreaus’ family home in nearby Mullica Hill. It was around 8:30 p.m., the summer sun dipping low, casting long shadows over the two-lane road flanked by cornfields. Johnny Gaudreau, the 31-year-old Columbus Blue Jackets forward and Calgary Flames legend, was pedaling side-by-side with his 29-year-old brother Matthew, a rising coach at nearby Gloucester Catholic High School. The brothers, fresh from celebrating their sister’s wedding in Philadelphia, were chatting about family and the upcoming hockey season—Johnny fresh off inking a seven-year, $69.75 million extension with Columbus.

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Sean Higgins doesn’t want incriminating statements he made to cops let into the trial in the case accusing him of drunkenly hitting NHL player Johnny Gaudreau and his brother Matthew, killing them.New Jersey State Police

Higgins, prosecutors allege, was behind the wheel of his black pickup, blood alcohol level testing at .087—teetering just over New Jersey’s .08 legal limit—after knocking back beers at a backyard barbecue with friends. Toxicology reports later confirmed traces of alcohol in the Gaudreaus’ systems too (Johnny at .102, Matthew at .093), but Higgins was driving, a fact his defense has twisted into a desperate bid for leniency. As the truck crested a gentle rise, Higgins attempted to pass a slower vehicle ahead, swerving into the oncoming lane. Eyewitnesses—farmers wrapping up evening chores—described the chaos: a blur of headlights, the sickening thud of metal on flesh, and two bicycles mangled into the roadside ditch. The truck veered back, tires screeching, before grinding to a halt 100 yards down the road. Johnny and Matthew lay crumpled, unresponsive, their helmets cracked and lives ebbing away in the gravel.

New Jersey State Police Sgt. Kenneth Flanegan was among the first on scene, arriving at 8:41 p.m. to a tableau of tragedy: flares flickering in the twilight, bystanders performing CPR on the brothers, and an acrid smell of burnt rubber mingling with spilled beer from the truck’s cab. Flanegan spotted Higgins pacing frantically beside his F-150, hands trembling, eyes wide with what the sergeant described as “raw panic.” “He approached me unprompted,” Flanegan testified, his voice steady under cross-examination. “He said, ‘I hit them. There were bikers in the road. My life is over.’” Those words, captured on Flanegan’s bodycam, hung in the courtroom like a noose—Higgins’ first admission, blurted before Miranda rights were even read.

The confessions snowballed from there. As paramedics loaded the Gaudreaus—Johnny with catastrophic head trauma, Matthew with severed arteries—into helicopters bound for Cooper University Hospital in Camden, Higgins was detained roadside. Troopers Mark Allonardo and Adam Crespo, arriving minutes later, noted his slurred speech and the faint odor of alcohol. Handcuffed in the back of a cruiser, Higgins allegedly doubled down: “I was passing a car, but they swerved into me. I hit bikers who were in the middle of the road, in the dark.” At Inspira Medical Center Vineland, where blood was drawn at 10:15 p.m., he reportedly told a nurse, “It was an accident… I didn’t see them.” Audio from the procedure, played in court, captured his voice cracking: “Tell their families I’m sorry.” Prosecutors, led by Assistant Cumberland County Prosecutor Jennifer Deener, hailed the statements as “the defendant’s own road map to guilt,” arguing they were voluntary outbursts from a man gripped by immediate remorse.

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The Gaudreau brothers were cycling when Higgins allegedly struck and killed them on Aug. 29, 2024.Katie Gaudreau/Facebook

But Higgins’ defense team, spearheaded by attorney Michael Pastacaldi, painted a darker picture: a suspect plied with questions in his most vulnerable hour, rights trampled in the heat of investigation. “Mr. Higgins was in shock, medicated, and cornered by officers who ignored protocol,” Pastacaldi thundered during the three-hour hearing before Superior Court Judge Michael Silvanio. Citing New Jersey case law on custodial interrogations, the defense moved to suppress all pre-Miranda statements, claiming they poisoned the well for later admissions. Flanegan and the other officers—Vineland Patrolman John Harding included—faced grilling on the stand, with Pastacaldi probing for inconsistencies: Was Higgins truly “frantic” or feigning? Did the blood draw precede or follow warnings? Harding testified to overhearing Higgins explain the pass attempt, but under oath admitted no formal interview occurred. The judge, stern-faced and deliberate, reserved ruling for November 15, a decision that could gut the prosecution’s case or seal Higgins’ fate.

Higgins, a burly father of two with a clean record until this, sat stone-faced in court, his flannel shirt a stark contrast to the suits around him. A 20-year carpenter for local firm Salem Woodworks, he was the picture of blue-collar stability: Little League coach, church volunteer, weekend barbecuer. Neighbors in Woodstown, a sleepy Salem County hamlet of 3,500, remembered him as “the guy who’d fix your porch for free.” But on that fateful night, after a day of yard work and brews with buddies, Higgins climbed into his truck—keys in hand despite a prior DUI warning from 2018, per court docs. His wife, reached by reporters outside the courthouse, declined comment, her face etched with quiet devastation. “This isn’t the man I married,” she whispered to a friend, as supporters in “Justice for Johnny” tees glared from the gallery.

For the Gaudreaus, the pain is a fresh wound. Johnny— “Johnny Hockey” to fans—a 6-foot, 175-pound dynamo with 223 goals over 11 NHL seasons, was the heart of his clan. Drafted fourth overall by Calgary in 2011, he skated for Team USA at two Winter Olympics, earning a Lady Byng Trophy for sportsmanship in 2017. Off-ice, he was the devoted dad to daughters Gianni and Mila, and a pillar for his parents, Guy and Jane, who ran a hockey camp in South Jersey. Matthew, the quieter brother, was his shadow— a high school phenom turned coach, dreaming of Division I glory. Their deaths, mere hours after wedding toasts, left six nieces and nephews orphaned of uncles, and a league in mourning. Vigils lit up rinks from Columbus to Calgary, with Flames jerseys draped over crosses at the crash site—a makeshift memorial of pucks, flowers, and signs reading “Ride On, Johnny.”

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Higgins allegedly admitted to cops he had five or six drinks that night.Brigitte Stelzer

Guy Gaudreau, Johnny’s father and a former Philadelphia Flyer, addressed the media post-hearing, his voice gravelly with grief. “We just want truth—no games, no technicalities,” he said, flanked by Jane, whose eyes brimmed as she clutched a photo of the brothers mid-laugh. The family rejected Higgins’ earlier bid to downgrade charges, arguing the brothers’ post-wedding drinks (under .10, per tox) paled against his decision to drive buzzed. “They were home, on familiar roads, helmets on—doing nothing wrong,” Jane told ESPN in a prior interview. A civil suit looms, with the Gaudreaus’ attorneys eyeing punitive damages from Higgins’ employer for any lapsed training on safe driving. NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman echoed the sentiment in a league statement: “Johnny and Matthew’s loss reminds us all: One poor choice behind the wheel erases legacies.”

The hearing’s fallout has supercharged public fury. #JusticeForGaudreau surged to 2.5 million mentions on X overnight, with fans flooding Salem County Courthouse steps in protest. Petitions for tougher DUI laws in New Jersey—where cyclists face 1,200 hit-and-runs yearly—have topped 100,000 signatures. MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) hailed the case as a “wake-up call,” citing 13,000 U.S. fatalities from impaired driving in 2024 alone. Defense sympathizers, a vocal minority online, decry “victim-blaming” of the brothers, but prosecutors counter: “Alcohol doesn’t excuse murder.” Higgins rejected a 35-year plea deal in March, pleading not guilty; trial is set for January 2026, unless the suppression motion upends it.

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The brothers had been in town for their sister’s wedding which was scheduled for the next day.Instagram / @mattygaudreau11

As leaves turn in Salem County’s farmlands, the road where it happened stands scarred—a faded bike lane, tire marks etched like accusations. For Higgins, those words—”I hit them”—may echo eternally, voluntary or not. For the Gaudreaus, they’re a hollow dirge to sons stolen too soon. Judge Silvanio’s ruling could rewrite the narrative, but one truth endures: In the split-second swerve of a buzzed truck, hockey’s joy collided with irreversible loss. Will the confessions stand as pillars of justice, or crumble under legal sleight? The puck drops in court soon—and America watches.