In
Hockey, Aesthetics, and Violence, an earlier (10th of November) posting on this blog, I discussed hockey fights to some extent, but a resent posting on a blog I found on Kukla's Korner, written by, a(nother) KK member,
Christy Hammond, gave me some new inspiration to deal with the topic.
Keep Fighting in the NHL is a clever text with historical depth.
Commenting the fact that a violent game between the Atlanta Trashers and the Washington Capitals on the 22nd of November 2006, where 176 penalty minutes were given, seemed to attract more audience to the following game, Hammond argumented on the behalf of fighting in hockey by doing a historical overview, which I think was a good move, as fighting in hockey is so often discussed without any profound relation to the history of the sport. Or, well, people say that fighting has always been a part of it, but that is not yet very illuminating...
Hammond writes that "(s)ince the inception of the NHL in 1917, fighting has always played a role in the sport but has seen a steady decline since the 1980s. Games like this one have caused fans, players, coaches, and the media to question the future of fighting in the sport and whether it innately and ethically belongs in the game," and continues by asking a philosophical question: what do we really mean with fighting in the NHL?
"Typically, a fight occurs when two players from opposing teams square off with their gloves dropped in order for one player to avenge a bad hit or slash given to his star teammate by an opposing player. In the average fight, a player may get a split lip, black eye, or at worst a broken nose, but no serious injuries result since these fighters learn to protect their faces and are already outfitted with protective pads underneath their uniforms. “Under players’ rules, fist-fighting in hockey is considered a form of sanctioned violence that is different than other unsanctioned violent acts like striking an opponent with a hockey stick. It works as a form of social control that has a moderating effect on other potentially serious unsanctioned violent acts between players” (Kerr 316). Aside from calls made by the referees, fighting is a way to police events placed out on the ice during a game and has been happening in the league since 1922."
Hammond explains also why fighting stayed as a part of hockey, and the reason was the classical American one (and no problem with that, it often helps good entertainment to develop): money.
"Since 1922, fighting has been a critical part of the NHL: “In 1922 Rule 56 was introduced which regulated but did not ban ‘fisticuffs [fighting],’ instead giving the guilty party a five-minute penalty rather than a suspension or expulsion. The owners saw how much the fans loved the violence and saw dollar signs” (Bernstein 4). (...) One observer argues that for hockey fans a hockey fight can act as an avenue for psychological release, which helps explain why fighting is so popular among fans: “Fighting is a necessary release not only for players but also for the pent-up emotions of the crowd. Konrad Lorenz, one of the foremost experts on animal aggression, has written that catharsis can be achieved by the spectator as well as the player. Lorenz sees the cathartic experience as ‘the most important function of sport’” (Jones, Ferguson, and Stewart 75). Fighting is such an emotional action that it can energize the crowd, jumpstart a slumping team, and even spur them on to victory in a game."
Well, here we have, again, the Aristotelian notion of catharsis, but I think catharsis is here more far away from its original notion, than for example when we talk about the experience of
a shutout. Having a catharsis meant originally going through a process, which developed and then relieved tension, and which then, following this, gave a purifying feeling. The original notion was made about Greek drama. A fast fight suits this term even less than my way of adopting the term from Greek drama to modern hockey drama (but I know, the word has for a long time been used in a variety of ways and applied to a variety of issues). What is the same in these ways of using the term is of course the purifying effect gained. But we should maybe differentiate these ways of using the term, when we talk about sports. One way of having a cathartic experience in hockey comes from some kind of drama, accumulating tension, and then releasing it (this notion is more classical), and another way of using the word could point to just all kinds of purifying experiences (including the more narrow way of using the term).
By the way, on creating spirit and energizing a team: Is spirit a kind of aesthetic experience? Is it something related to fictional experience, which sometimes gives you energy (a good movie does that)? Of course it is not fictional that you can win the Stanley Cup (at least not in the beginning of the season), or that you can come back to the game when you are losing it 4-6 and you have only 7 minutes left to play. But you have to believe in something, not that it necessarily would happen, but that there is a possibility for it to happen if you work hard. The interesting thing is that a group of people can develop that together, and that the feeling of it can help them to achieve goals. Entertaining movies use special effects and show stimulatingly beautiful people to help their audiences to forget the everyday, so they would try to believe at least playfully in other worlds. Maybe hockey fights do the same to the players, just on a bit more realistic level (we cannot get Alien or Predator here, I suppose, but we can still win even if it looks so bad right now, because Marty, hitting Joe there, has so much energy and a hunger to win)?
Quoting more of Hammond's work: "Fighting continued in the NHL and gained popularity well into the 1950s. At that time, the most well known player of the day started what became known as the Gordie Howe hat trick, which consists of a goal, an assist, and a fight. (...) Twenty years later in the 1970s, the Philadelphia Flyers intimidated the entire NHL with their incredibly physical play, which led them to be called the Broad Street Bullies (Bernstein 45). This team’s style of play resulted in the league adding a rule called the “third-man-in-rule” to curb fighting by allowing referees to eject any third player from the game who enters into a fight (Miller and Heika). By the mid 1980s, there was, on average, one fight per hockey game (Allen). It was at this time that the number of fights peaked and since then has been steadily declining to its current low of three fights for every 10 games played (Singer)."
Some ethical choices were made by the league later:
"The NHL (...) added a(...) rule to help discourage fighting in 1992 when it created the instigator rule, which gives “additional penalties to a player judged to have started a fight with an opponent who didn’t want to scrap” (Miller and Heika)."
Of course this is still not enough on the behalf of fighting. The fact that the league has an long history of it, explains a lot, but it is so much harder to say what the role of fighting is in the black box of ice hockey. Hockey without any contact or fighting would not feel like hockey, but neither would an average of 45 fights per game.
A weird thing is that fighting is virtually non-existant in European hockey. What if the interest to see violence is something which will always be local, a North American phenomenon? Are European hockey fans attending the matches more because of hockey skills (though they'd attend boxing matches to see fighting), and many American fans because of the show and the violence? It is not a simple question to answer, because many people who really admire the way hockey is played with grace by its greatest, enjoy fighting as well. But definitely, as American hockey is more about money than its European counterpart (where a lot of Olympic type of idealism also occurs, though it is a professional game), choices are maybe more made also following needs outside of the game, i.e. the interests of the not that fanatic hockey fans, who just want to come and enjoy a fight once in a while. This dialectic of pleasing the big crowd might have slowly made hardcore hockey fans feel that fighting is a natural part of hockey.
Well, of course this way of arguing could be applied to European hockey as well. Euro hockey might have been following intensively some mainstream ethics of the society, which condemn sports violence... As Euro hockey has more relied on support by the state (at its peak during the Socialist system, but as well in the Nordic countries like Sweden and Finland), and as the Olympic spirit has had more impact on the sport in Europe, hockey has needed society's ethical support more than in America, where commerce has ruled.
Getting back to Hammond, she names some people talking about the following, and I have seen this argument before: Many people say fighting protects star players - fighters are policemen you don't want to meet, so you don't tackle too badly the star - but, hey, how do the star players survive European rinks? North American rinks are all the way more violent, and it sounds just like more violence would be added to get less violence... It sounds like a contradiction in terms, but it might not be that of course, as the culture of hockey in America might be so much more violent in depth... And when violence is central for a cultural tradition (the old way of bringing up kids, boxing, drinking in rough bars), people feel it is normal. You don't want to go to a violent bar in the shady part of the town without a strong, mean looking buddy, but you don't start discussing bar violence in newspapers because of it, and you think boxing is too violent, because, hey, it IS boxing...
European hockey can here in fact be used as an example to understand hockey in North America too. Long series of games are played in European leagues without a need to sustain the audience's hunger for entertainment with fighting (some people say that because there are so many NHL games, the season needs some extra spice, but forget this argument). Though less games are played during the season, the World Championships are seen integrally as a part of the season (and the Olympics, once in four years, more than in America), without forgetting tournaments for the best club in Europe and Euro Hockey tournaments for the biggest hockey countries in Europe. So the difference in the amount of games is maybe not that big after all... Interestingly some people in America have written also, that they don't consider hockey fights to be as essential for Olympic hockey. Many of us seem to have two tastes, a way of enjoying Olympic hockey (the Euro way to do it), and a way of enjoying NHL hockey... It is not one, but many hockeys we already can appreciate.
Well, so much has now been just about fighting, so let's get back to the main motivation to write this blog, aesthetics. I am wondering whether Americans see fighting as more aesthetic as Europeans do? Or is it just that they want to have more peak experiences, which the mixed up feelings gained from fighting in the rink can give?
E.M. Swift wrote some time ago for
Sports Illustrated, that although he is in pains to admit it, he misses "the good old-fashioned hockey brawl. (...) That intellectually indefensible, primitive, testosterone-laced donnybrook that on a nightly basis used to separate hockey from all other sports. I miss the passion on display when you mix skateblades and fists."
Different from many other authors on hockey, Swift writes out some own, pretty crazy memories, which he tells in a way which might help to understand the experience of participating in a hockey brawl...
"Heck, I was a participant in a hockey brawl in college that would have made the Knicks/Nuggets fight look tame. Princeton-Colgate, no less. 1972. It started in the penalty box and ended with the game being suspended and one of my Princeton teammates charging into the locker room with a fistful of hair from a Colgate scalp. "Look! Bloody roots!" he cried triumphantly. Who cared that we lost the game? The Colgate athletic director at one point was leaning over the boards whacking a Princeton player with a stale Italian sub. No one on either team, or in the stands, ever forgot the spectacle we created that night."
Well, I can believe that... but once again, this just reminds me about cultural differences. I enjoy boxing, K1, thai boxing, but too much fighting in hockey is a real challenge to me - as it is to so many European hockey fans, though they think the NHL is the best and most interesting league in the world. Still we conceive some fighting as essential to the game. There is a great blog in Finnish, which has opened my eyes to some cultural aspects of game violence, called
Jäähyaitio, but I see that this is less a question of just liking fighting or not, and more one associated with what we in depth conceive of as hockey. Here there seems to be an endless amount of positions, ranging from the love for brawl hockey to something closer to women's hockey (is there a discussion about violence in women's hockey too? I don't know).
Swift, in fact, calls one hockey fight a "visual feast", and as I have been writing that hockey fights are not very aesthetic, I just have to wake up now... There are many different ways of enjoying art, music (from hockey AC DC to high class chocolate advertisement Mozart), and films, and there are many different rewarding ways of enjoying hockey. To learn about that, and the fact, that they sit deep, as everybody is so sure that he / she knows what is essential in hockey (!), and that all these ways of perceiving hockey are really satisfactory in different ways, is important. There is a variety of deep logics of hockey, one could say, and I think there is a lot to learn from their aesthetic sides too.
I wish I could enjoy hockey in all possible different ways. Now I only possess two skills, to enjoy Euro hockey in my way, and to enjoy NHL hockey in another, but over-defensive playing, skill competitions, and hockey fights: here I come! I have time and interest to learn new forms of aesthetic pleasure. One day we'll sit down with Swift, have a glass of good Californian red wine, and discuss the visual beauty of hockey brawls. At that time, if everything goes well, Swift might have learned to enjoy Euro hockey as well, and we can have a long chat about the rich range of beauty hockey offers us. And who knows, when this happens, even hockey skill competitions might have become a real sport, and there might be tournaments with just fighting in hockey gear (in the ring or in a small size rink?). The world of sport is in an endless process of development, getting wider and richer with time, and so are the tastes of its wide and hungry audiences.