Monday
Throw Down the Gloves
I admit it: I have a little blood lust in me. I never realized until I was reading St. Augustine's Confessions, about his trip to a gladiator show: As soon as he saw the blood, he drank in with it a savage temper, and he did not turn away, but fixed his eyes on the bloody pastime, unwittingly drinking in the madness -- delighted with the wicked contest and drunk with blood lust. He was now no longer the same man who came in, but was one of the mob he came into, a true companion of those who had brought him thither. Why need I say more? He looked, he shouted, he was excited, and he took away with him the madness that would stimulate him to come again: not only with those who first enticed him, but even without them; indeed, dragging in others besides.
I first realized it when it came to hockey fights. I've always enjoyed a good rink fight, especially since I became a real hockey fan in the mid-1980s, just as the Red Wings were beginning their climb from the "Dead Things" to repeat Stanley Cup champions. Back in the mid-1908s, the Red Wings had the best enforcer in the history of hockey, Bob Probert, as well as a fighter who would rank in anyone's Top 25 list of hockey fighters of all time, Joey Kocur. I went to dozens of hockey games over the course of five years and always drank in a good fight.
I used to argue with other hockey fans about the merits of fighting. They would claim that it ruins the game. I would point out that nobody, including them, ever left to grab a bag of popcorn when a fight was breaking out. They'd point out that the Europeans don't have fighting, and I'd point out that the Europeans have far more dirty stick work, which is far more dangerous. They'd point out that it wasn't fair that the game's stars were subject to such brutality. I'd point out that there was a code of conduct among bruisers that they only fight each other. They'd point out that some sportscaster agrees with them.
And I'd point to Don Cherry.
Don Cherry was, is, and (I think) always will be a huge hockey fight fan. Cherry, of course, is over the top, but I've always gotten a kick out of him. He has argued for years that fighting is necessary to keep the game clean and pure. It's a paradox that would've delighted Chesterton, and he makes it with a fair amount of cogency.
But he might meet his dove-ish Waterloo. Three former fighters, including Stu Grimson, are preparing to sue him for harsh words he used when they questioned the role of hockey fighting:
He called three former hockey players renowned for their fighting skills “pukes”, “turncoats” and “hypocrites” because he thought they had linked fighting to substance abuse, depression and the recent deaths of three other players. Of the three named by Mr Cherry, only Jim Thomson has called for fighting to be banned. Along with Chris “Knuckles” Nilan and Stu “The Grim Reaper” Grimson, Mr Thomson is now threatening to sue Mr Cherry.
I'll be curious to see how it goes for Mr. Cherry. He's made a ton of money from hockey fights, so no matter what, he should land on his feet, unlike the less-skilled fighters in the NHL.
For those unacquainted with that great artist, Bob Probert:
