Nonetheless, it’s hard to argue with the dominant point: while acknowledging that Todd Bertuzzi is stupid and dangerous, hockey itself must also be held culpable.
It is generally agreed that the NHL does little to deter headhunting. Penalties for dangerous fouls are light, fighting is encouraged, and scant application of the rules lets plenty of abuse go unpunished.
When it does respond to dirty play, the league never shows much resolve or consistency. Suspensions are not based on the severity of the crime, but the severity of the injury. Fans have seen other “sucker punches” not unlike the one Bertuzzi delivered to Steve Moore. But the villain skates away free if the victim skates away unharmed.
The NHL also turns a blind eye to talk of vendettas and retribution. Brad May of the Canucks declares a “bounty” on Moore; the coach, by staying silent, gives his tacit approval; the media laps it up; the fans are easily riled. At the very least, teams could be fined for such comments, and threatened with harsh penalties should anyone follow through on the tough talk. By doing nothing, the league lets the vengeance mentality thrive. Deviant streaks and violent urges are nurtured and the stage is set for something ugly
Another argument takes a different tack, claiming the game suffers from too much law and order. This one says the NHL’s instigator rule is to blame for hooligan hockey.
The instigator rule imposes a two-minute penalty and a misconduct on a player who starts a fight. Many in hockey believe this has the unintended effect of protecting cheap shot artists. Such players can skate around wreaking havoc, because the threat of extra penalties prevents opponents from responding.
Without this rule, the Canucks would have settled their score with Moore immediately. After levelling Markus Naslund with a stiff check three weeks ago, he would have had to stand up and take a fist in the face to pay for it. Justice would have been done – in the players’ eyes at least – and everyone would have moved on. Instead, the Canucks were left to stew for several weeks, which only amplified the pressure to do something.
That’s how the argument goes, anyway. It’s popular, but not convincing. Hockey has a long history of brawling and mauling. Most of it predates the instigator rule.
You could also blame the entire culture of the game, and it’s blood-and-guts traditions. Brawling and mauling are constants through the sport’s history. Those who believe the game is dirtier than before, who long for a lost age of gentlemanly competition, don’t know much about hockey.
Whichever theory you prefer, none of it explains why almost all hockey players, even the fighters, manage to avoid Bertuzzi-like meltdowns. So none of it gets him off the hook, or acts as mitigating evidence.
But beyond the Bertuzzi case, all these arguments dance around a larger issues: For better or worse, violence is essential to the game.
Physical, bloody hockey is dear to the hearts of fans and players. The best games are the ones that begin with a touch of hate in the air, and come perilously close to boiling over. Everyone loves a genuine rivalry, in which the animosity extends far beyond the professional obligations of the men in uniform. Everyone loves to see bodies fly (as long as all the hits are “legal,” of course).
This also explains why hockey fans like fights. In most cases, the fight itself is inconsequential, a silly, shirt-tugging dance. But it can augur well. A fight often acts as an ignition switch, stoking the passions of everyone in the building. The players bear down; the intensity rises; the plot thickens; the game is on.
This menacing streak is one of the game’s most valuable assets, and its most volatile. We conveniently forget this when it comes time to moralize, insisting that players must know where to “draw the line.”
The line is awfully fuzzy, in need of clarification. More could be done to cut down on fights and dirty hockey, and to discourage the next Todd Bertuzzi from nursing his grudge and following through on it. But you can’t ban stupidity or eradicate sociopaths.
It will always be the barely civilized game. It will never win the approval of editorial writers, cultural mavens or the self-appointed moral custodians of sport. Hockey is stuck with a near-impossible balancing act. That’s bad news for those wring their hands over the game’s image. But it’s a deal most of us accepted long ago.
