As the debate continues on the legitimacy of the NFL’s sudden policy adjustment regarding mega-helmet-to-helmet shots, I was reminded that another sport is arguably more violent than football…
That sport is hockey.
While I was at the gym on Wednesday, I caught a highlight from a game between the Vancouver Canucks and the Minnesota Wild. In the highlight, the game literally stops and two players begin to have a fist fight. The referees are there, observing, like they were just suddenly transported to a frozen boxing ring in Atlantic City and given a new career. The players continue to brutally punch one another until the one guy falls on top of the other. The ref goes down to the ice with them, puts his hand on the top player’s back, and the whole thing is over.
Obviously, this is not a unique experience in professional hockey. I was struck, however, in this particular highlight by just how normal it seemed, by how sanctioned the brutality was. There is no other place in the world that I can think of where two men would be allowed to punch the shit out of each other with no one intervening and with no recourse.
The combination of this hockey fight and the constant barrage of moving images portraying human flying missile violence in football got me thinking about a topic that I think is more interesting than whether defensive backs and linebackers should be suspended for knocking out wide receivers. The question…
Why do we love to watch people commit violent acts in sports?
You’ve felt it before. I know I have. There’s no question that brawls in basketball, massive hits in football, bean ball wars in baseball, and even dirty plays in soccer are entertaining to watch. It’s exciting. It’s often unexpected. It can lead to higher drama, deeper rivalries, and more intense competition.
The root of the appeal of sports violence for us as human beings, I believe, is tied to two factors. First, the violence is sanctioned, and secondly, it does not directly involve us. In short, players get to do the kinds of things we’d like to do to our horrible bosses and our worst rivals, on a very primal level, but we cannot do. Even better, the players get away with it.
On top of this, many of these violent sports actions are almost superhero-like. I know I could never knock Josh Cribbs out with a helmet-to-helmet shot. I couldn’t even knock him out if I was given a huge anvil and a sleeping pill at my disposal.
Let’s not forget too that we immediately make the assumption that all professional athletes are rich.
The result is that, in multiple ways, we look up to professional athletes in general and especially in these hyper-dramatic situations, even if we don’t want to admit it. We wanted to be one of them when we were kids. We wish we were them now. Athletes are the heroes in action movies. They are superheroes. We are living vicariously through them, without any of the negative ramifications, the concussions, the terrible knees and debilitated backs, the absurdity of not being able to eat dinner without being bothered, or having the fact that your father-in-law just died reported on Twitter minutes before a game.
Violent hits. Action hero moves. Reckless hit batters. Wild West style fist fights at center ice … these are the things we root for because they are bigger than us. We can’t do them, but we wish we could.
Well, only sorta. Because deep down we know the truth. We can’t do them, not just because we aren’t physically capable, but because we know they really aren’t healthy. They actually shouldn’t be socially acceptable. In reality, we know the truth. Blindsiding a guy at 35 MPH in the head is insane. When we cheer for it, it’s fantasy.
This is sport. It plays to emotion, not rationality. And as long as we’re not involved, play on.
