The headline of this entry was almost “In Defense of Mike Milbury,” but that would have been an open-and-shut case of trolling. It was almost “Everything You Learned on Puck Daddy About Fighting After Clean Hits Is Wrong,” but that would be click-baiting. This isn’t either of those things. It’s a look at why fighting is a perfectly reasonable response to clean hits in pro hockey.
The issue popped up again Sunday night when Pittsburgh defenseman Brooks Orpik knocked Jonathan Toews out of the game with the following hit.
There could probably be a debate about the legality of the hit, given that Toews is in a defenseless position and Orpik does make some head contact, but that’s not the point here. The hit has generally been deemed clean by the hockey cognoscenti. Let’s assume they’re right.
A clean hit, while perfectly legal, can still be an act of violent aggression.
At its very core, a body check in hockey is designed to separate the puck carrier from the puck. That’s it. In this case, Toews had already moved the puck ahead to a teammate. Orpik couldn’t separate Toews from the puck. The puck was already gone.
So why did Orpik give Toews such a jolt? We can’t know for sure, but there are several commonly accepted reasons for hard hits in hockey, leaving out the idea that some players might just be predatory sociopaths who like to hurt people.
To physically wear down an opponent. To eliminate the opponent from being further involved in the play. To intimidate. To make the opponent think twice the next time he enters the offensive zone.
All of those are acts of violent aggression, especially when they are committed against a team’s top star. All Orpik had to do to prevent Toews from following up on the play was give him a bump into the wall. Anything beyond a bump into the wall is an act of violent aggression.
Can you blame a player’s teammates from getting angry when one of their comrades is a victim of such an act? It’s a natural human reaction. If you say those teammates should just let it go, then you’ve never given the finger or yelled a blue streak at someone who cuts you off in traffic. When a human is aggrieved, he usually gets angry.
How players channel that anger is a topic worthy of scrutiny. They shouldn’t sucker punch someone from behind like Boston’s Shawn Thornton did to Orpik earlier this season. But they should do more than say a few mean words to Orpik, like Marian Hossa did Sunday night. They should try to hold Orpik accountable by encouraging him to fight.
A hockey fight is act of violent aggression that has no direct connection to the score on the scoreboard. So is Orpik’s hit. One is a perfectly reasonable response to the other. They’re more or less the same thing.
This might sound like a prehistoric eye-for-an-eye mentality, but it’s not really. It’s not about revenge. It’s about accountability. Players who deliver violent hits should be held accountable. The basis of all criminal justice is accountability. Without consequences for actions, order breaks down.
Accountability has also been a dominant theme in books, movies and television shows since the beginning of mass media. At the end of the show, the good guy catches the bad guy and holds him accountable, often in a violent way. It sells tickets. It satisfies customers. It’s good for the game.
It’s good for a team too. To succeed in hockey, the individual must make physical sacrifices for the good of the group. He must take a hit to make a play. He must go to the hard areas of the ice. This isn’t true in most other professions. Pro hockey players, therefore, must have a stronger sense of loyalty than the average person who sits in front of a computer for a living.
It reminds me of the speech Jack Nicholson’s character makes in A Few Good Men after his famous “You can’t handle the truth” line. He’s not a good guy by any means, so don’t take this as an endorsement of his overall mentality, and it’s usually folly to compare sports to war, but one sentiment applies here.
“We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punchline.”
Hockey players, generally speaking, must believe in honor, code and loyalty to succeed. When you call them Neandethals for sticking up for a teammate, you’re flippantly tossing aside something they hold dear. If you’re OK with that, by all means, continue with your narrative. If you’re not, re-think things a bit.
Bye for now,