Paul Chiasson/CP
Canadians know what hockey is supposed to sound like. The hiss of sharp skates on fresh ice. The thump and rattle of bodies against the boards. The ping of a puck hitting a crossbar. That’s why it wasn’t just the sight of Max Pacioretty’s head bouncing off a stanchion that shocked a sold-out crowd at Montreal’s Bell Centre on March 8, it was the noise—a percussive ring like a sledgehammer driving a spike. Propelled from behind by towering Boston defenceman Zdeno Chara, the Habs winger struck the thinly padded metal pole with enough force to crack a vertebra in his neck. The fact that he wasn’t left paralyzed, or didn’t die there on the ice in front of the players’ benches—as many watching in the stands and on TV at home initially feared—was more a function of luck than his protective equipment, or the quick medical response. A few centimetres to one side or the other, the impact just a slight bit faster, and the 22-year-old American could have left the rink a martyr to our national sport.
As it is, Pacioretty is now at home in a darkened room recovering from the neck fracture and a severe concussion. When, or if, he will ever play again remains an open question. What is clear, however, is that the hit that injured him has changed the game, and the way many see it. The National Hockey League’s decision not to impose additional punishment on Chara for the hit (the six-foot-nine, 255 lb. Slovak received a five-minute major for interference and a game misconduct) was met with incredulity from his victim. “I’m upset and disgusted,” Pacioretty told TSN. “I’m not mad for myself. I’m mad because if other players see a hit like that and think it’s okay, they won’t be suspended, then other players will get hurt like I got hurt.” But it was the ensuing howls of outrage from fans, politicians, media, and for the first time, some of the game’s sponsors, that really seem to have captured the league’s attention.
Last Thursday, speaking to reporters after briefing members of the U.S. Congress on the future of hockey, NHL commissioner Gary Bettman called the Pacioretty hit “a horrific accident,” but argued that cracking down on Chara “wouldn’t change what happened.” Four days later, he was back in front of the cameras at a general managers’ meeting in Florida, announcing a five-point plan to deal with the scourge of head shots in the professional game. Under Bettman’s new proposals, teams and coaches will, for the first time, face fines and suspensions if their players are deemed to be “repeat offenders.” Safety engineers will be dispatched to examine the boards and glass of every rink in the league, empowered to order immediate upgrades. One joint league and player committee will examine changes to equipment to increase protection and lessen the effect of blows, another will continue to study concussions. And perhaps most importantly for the health of players, head injuries will no longer be treated on the bench with a 1920s-style dose of smelling salts. Beginning next week, any player suspected of sustaining a concussion will have to be removed from the game and evaluated by a physician, not a trainer, “in a quiet area.” Only after he has successfully passed a screening test will he be allowed to return to play.
Shaun Best/Reuters
Coming on the day that the game’s biggest star, Pittsburgh’s Sidney Crosby, finally skated for the first time since taking two cheap shots to the head at the beginning of January, the safety-first announcement will strike many as belated. And given recent revelations that 16 seasons of duking it out left the late Bob Probert with chronic traumatic encephalopathy, a degenerative brain disease that has already been diagnosed in some boxers and football players, maybe it is even a case of too little, too late. But if the NHL has finally started to get the message, the league still lags well behind its fans’ concerns.
A new Maclean’s poll, prepared by Angus Reid, shows that Canadians now rank hockey as the pro sport most likely to cause a head injury, with a full 90 per cent of those surveyed rating the national game as a significant risk, compared to 83 per cent for boxing, 71 per cent for football, and just 53 per cent for mixed martial arts. Among those who identify themselves as “true” hockey fans, the number is even higher—94 per cent. The sample of 1,021 people is considered accurate within 3.1 per cent, 19 times out of 20.
Nationally, just six per cent believe the NHL is doing a very good job of protecting its players. And 34 per cent of respondents say they are concerned enough about recent on-ice violence that they would definitely, or probably, discourage their children from playing, up six per cent from a similar poll in the wake of Chris Simon’s 2007 slash to Ryan Hollweg’s face, an attack that netted the then-Islanders tough guy 25 games. Sixty per cent of Canadians said they think pro hockey has become more violent in the past five years (in the 2007 survey, 48 per cent felt the same). In Quebec, where passions are sky-high, 80 per cent see more thuggery in the NHL. “I think the anger about this hit nationally is palpable,” says Jaideep Mukerji, vice-president of Angus Reid Public Opinion. “And in Quebec, people are absolutely apoplectic.”
Opinion on Chara’s punishment splits along regional lines and fan allegiance—91 per cent of Quebecers and 88 per cent of Montreal fans say it was too lenient, for example, compared to 52 per cent of British Columbians, or 45 per cent of Calgary Flames backers. But there is widespread support for an outright ban on head shots, with 81 per cent of all respondents, and 83 per cent of fans, saying that the game would be better off without them. (In contrast, a total ban on fighting gains the approval of just 41 per cent of all those surveyed, and just 13 per cent of fans.) Air Canada’s much publicized threat to end its sponsorship arrangements with the six Canadian franchises over the Chara hit was supported by 70 per cent in the poll, though just 13 per cent say they would boycott a league sponsor to protest on-ice violence. The backlash is more likely to start at home, with 34 per cent of all respondents—and a quarter of hockey fans outside Quebec—saying they are considering watching fewer games. It’s a potentially dangerous sign for a league that has always been able to count on its Canadian fans, come hell or high water. “Maybe it’s cumulative like concussions,” says Mukerji. “The more incidents, the more pressure there is to do something.”
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