In what's becoming more and more of a P.C. world by the day, there are certain things that aren't even worth complaining about anymore. It is what it is and it's to be expected, I've learned to tell myself.
You can't say
this these days and you can't do
that. You can't cough one way without offending one group and you can't sneeze elsewhere without somehow disrespecting another.
Yes, we now live in a world where people actually win lawsuits for spilling coffee all over themselves on the grounds that they didn't know it would be so hot, where each generation that passes is significantly softer and less independent than before, where children are catered to so incessantly that they literally think
nothing is their fault by the time they are teenagers and where just about everything you do, one way or another, could irk someone to the point where they'll go after your well-being. Apparently,
those people have nothing better to do.
Again, though, it is what it is and it will probably only get worse, no matter what I say or what you do. As much as I can't stand it, I've made peace with it - in the general world, that is.
So, as the excitement of the NHL's second season hit the other night, I felt the comfort of hockey -
playoff hockey - my little pocket of the world that hasn't yet been reduced to the marshmallowy fluff of all the rest, and I breathed a welcome sigh of relief.
Yes, from mid-April to early June every year, this is the protected bubble of our world where, for the most part, men are men and lay it all on the line for the honor of competing for Lord Stanley's chalice. Those not up to snuff get trampled in the wake of a superior herd. Pride, passion, skill, grit, intimidation and accountability all combine to make up the most ferocious level of competition in professional sports. Sometimes, it gets nasty. Sometimes, guys get hurt. Sometimes, there will be blood. And we can handle it, thank you very much. More importantly,
they can handle it.
All that said, when I heard the boys on the Versus broadcast talking the other night about this new mandate from the league office about not wanting teams "sending messages" late in a game when the outcome is decided any longer, I nearly flipped. When talk of a suspension for Philadelphia's Daniel Carcillo arose (and was later handed down) my displeasure grew. And, last night, when the Boston Bruins and Montreal Canadiens had what I considered to be a very forgettable, very minor skirmish after Phil Kessel sealed things for the Bruins with an empty netter late in the third and the broadcasters immediately began to discuss the possibility of repercussions from the league stemming from
that, I'd had it.
I've accepted the nonsensical instigator rule.
I've almost allowed myself to understand any and all mandatory visor discussion.
I've bitten my tongue, time and again, as the anti-fighting advocates have constantly performed their cute little song-and-dance routines over the years.
I'm even okay with the latest whoop-dee-doo about "staged fights" and suggestions that helmets should stay on in the aftermath of the tragic death of OHA Senior AAA player Don Sanderson.
But enough is enough. The NHL needs to fight becoming any more a part of this weakened, tenderfoot society and resist the urge to soften the game any further. The league's latest mandate that, as Senior Executive V.P. of Hockey Operations Colin Campbell says, will,
"Not tolerate attempts by clubs to 'send a message' late in a game when the outcome has been determined," is just too much.
This is hockey, people. This is
playoff hockey. That's just how it goes! You can't temper the elevated intensity level without weakening the product. You can't control the animosity that naturally stems from battling with the same foe over the course of a seven-game series. You can't stop the honorable player who understands the idea of getting into the heads of the opposition.
And, as far as I'm concerned, the philosophy that says,
"If you can't beat 'em, beat 'em up," is still as valid as it ever was.
The Carcillo suspension - a bit much, if you ask me, particularly since Maxime Talbot was
not injured and no penalty was called - was to be expected, I suppose. The guy does have a bit of a history and, if he did use his stick in an irresponsible manner (and I'm not completely convinced of as much), the league has the right to discipline him for doing so. The $10,000 dollar fine on coach John Stevens is a bit lofty but, again, I understand the message behind that. The coach is responsible for putting the players out there and of all the things a Dan Carcillo is, faceoff specialist is not one of them. This whole "incident", however, is a good example of the fact that the league still has (and always will) the ultimate power to reprimand individuals who go over the top.
If they deemed Carcillo's actions a suspendable offense as, clearly, they did. Fine. They have every right to do so.
But there is simply no need for this silly league-wide mandate. The Boston-Montreal hug-fest at game's end last night may turn out to be an example of exactly that.
Had things developed there into a full-scale line brawl, I'd have said,
"Good. That's how playoff hockey is supposed to be." All it was, in reality, was a bunch of guys who had battled all night saying,
"We'll see you in game two." A message? Yeah, I guess so.
But if
that draws the ire of the league,
ugh ... We may be doomed.
As the world melts under the heat of the P.C. sun, a select few of us remain safely packed in ice. Muzzled as we may be to protect the thin-skinned masses, we've swallowed our pride and clammed up, so as not to offend.
But, since we're talking about hockey - the one safe haven left where I don't have to worry about the infiltration of Sergeant Sensitive - and since I have my own forum for discussion here, the muzzle (and the gloves) are off and I've said what I have to say.
In this little corner of the world, I'm confident that my words will be backed by the majority.
And for those I may have offended ...
Tough.
JJ
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