Recently there have been two widely contrasting editorials in the traditional media weighing in on the age-old fighting debate in hockey.
ESPN's John Buccigross
authored what I felt was an accurate, reasonable account of why fighting will never go away entirely from the game.
On the flip side, in the Sunday Pittsburgh-Post Gazette, Bob Smizik
wrote a scathing condemnation of fighting that read like it was pulled from the 1970s archives.
In the course of the article, Mr. Smizik raises the oft-repeated argument that "fighting prevents hockey from growing nationally" (in the USA) and serves no useful purpose in the game.
Has there ever been a shred of proof that people in the U.S. avoid watching hockey because of fighting? I've never seen it.
There are a multitude of likely reasons why the NHL does not enjoy the same degree of popularity in the U.S. as other sports.
Most of them have to do with people's lack of long-term exposure to (and experience playing) the game in the areas where they live. Even when the game is accesible, it's expensive.
Some of it has to do with television presentation and exposure. Hockey critics love to point out low ratings for nationally televised games in the USA. I won't go into the reasons here why ratings are a poor measure of the health of the game. But as far as fighting goes, it seems awfully far-fetched to me to think people avoid tuning into a hockey broadcast because of the possibility of a fight (or hurriedly reach for the clicker if they happen upon a game and see two guys drop the gloves).
Hell, if anything, a fight is likely to get someone to look at the screen for awhile.
As for fighting's purpose (or lack thereof) in game, fighting has long been North American hockey's peculiar institution.
Reviled and misunderstood by the sports critics and non-hockey media, its presence has gradually been legislated away until making a mini-comeback in the last couple years.
Was is the game truly better for it when the old-fashioned enforcer went on the endangered species at the NHL level? No.
There was still plenty of stickwork, plenty of hitting from behind, low-bridging and, in general, less respect shown for fellow players than most enforcers (at least ones who achieve longevity) show for one another.
By "old-fashioned enforcer," I don't mean fighting is the only thing the player can do. I also realize there will always be players coming along who are primarily known for their fighting prowess. It's part of the game. There's a reason why the role evolved in the first place, and a difference between an enforcer and a "goon."
Enforcers don't exist to follow their own agendas; fighting only their own battles and the opponents of their choosing. They exist to make sure no one takes runs at your team's top players, opponents are held accountable for how they use their sticks, elbows and knees and if a teammate is in trouble, you come to his defense.
I don't have a problem with the fact guys who can only fight no longer have a steady role in the league. If a player can't contribue in other ways, he really doesn't help his team. Not everyone can score and not everyone is a great skater, but you'd better be able to contribute useful shifts on the forecheck and help prevent scoring chances.
That's why, among the more recent era of players, I always liked the way Darren McCarty and Randy McKay played their roles.
Both players had hockey sense and worked hard to contribute in different ways to their clubs, yet understood the essence of their role. If they didn't, they'd never have had regular roles on teams coached by Scotty Bowman or Jacques Lemaire.
Conversely, Donald Brashear has always driven me nuts because he often seems to follow his own agenda. He's always picked his spots, which is fine, but the motivation often seems personal, rather than team-oriented. He can play hockey, too, because he's not totally devoid of skill. But he often fails to demonstrate hockey sense.
The best enforcers understand that timing is everything, and winning the fight itself isn't necessarily the objective (although it's preferable, of course).
The time to fight is when your team is flat and needs a lift while there's still a chance to win the game.
The time to fight is when the other team is getting chippy and your star just got face-washed for having the "audacity" to go after a loose puck around the net until he heard a whistle.
But I've never bought into the "send a message" nonsense late in games when your team is losing badly. I have no problem with this long-standing tradition being legislated away. That's pseudo toughness. Quite frankly, that 5-1 score on the board shows you're frustrated and don't know what else to do.
With rare exceptions, fighting just for fighting's sake has zero impact on a game or a season.
I don't think most opponents (at least not good teams) have ever been intimidated merely by the presence of anyone else's enforcer-- even the likes of Bob Probert.
But having a good enforcer makes the other team know they'll be held accountable for their actions. The enforcer helps establish a foundation for team toughness; much as having a good second line center establishes a foundation for scoring depth.
That's absolutely crucial, because unless there's a team-wide commitment to sticking up for one another, you could have the nastiest, toughest enforcer in the league and it still won't make any difference.
While there have been enforcers who are cement heads in the Slapshot sense, there are just as many who are bright, articulate guys off the ice and make for good coaches, scouts and even executives after their careers. Just as one example, Stu Grimson was one of the smartest athletes you'd find in any sport.
Bottom line: As long as hockey is an emotional game, there will be some fights. As long as there's a chance of turning around the momentum of a game, there'll be a purpose for it. And as long as players take liberties on opponents, team will respond with fisticuffs.
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