Canada’s Governor General, David Johnston, convened a high-profile forum on concussions Tuesday in Ottawa. Maybe you heard about it.
One of the keynote speakers was Eric Lindros, whose Hall of Fame career was ended by a series of concussions. The message, though important and well-intentioned, was destined to fall on deaf ears — at least, the ears that could do the most good in hockey-crazy Canada.
A few hours after the last word was uttered at the conference, like an unintended exclamation point, Vancouver defenceman Philip Larsen lay eerily motionless beside the Canucks’ net — unconscious, probably, even before his head struck the ice — after a violent hit by New Jersey Devils forward Taylor Hall.
Not a flagrantly dirty hit, by the way. Not under the rules of the game as dictated by the general managers, and policed by the referees and administered by the ever-forgiving Department of Player Safety.
Hall simply was moving at his usual hell-bent speed and Larsen, fumbling with the puck in his skates, was standing still, his head down, and didn’t see him coming.
Hall even seemed to brake in mid-collision and try to soften the blow, as if he might undo the damage.
Related
- Canucks’ Philip Larsen takes skates to head while lying unconscious during melee
- Pro leagues will soon face reckoning as science ticks toward conclusive link between concussions and CTE
But here is when we learned again what the current order of business is on the ice in the National Hockey League, and no doubt most younger levels as a result of the NHL “code,” when a player plainly has been concussed.
First, whether the hit was clean (within the rules) or dirty, is for the victim’s teammate or mates to go after the hitter, rough him up, show him that injuring a brother will not be tolerated.
Second is … oh, yeah. The victim.
No one paid much attention to Larsen as, first, rookie Michael Chaput stepped over the fallen defenceman’s inert form to get at Hall, followed by the predictable rush of Devils players coming to Hall’s rescue and Canucks players trying to even up the numbers in the scrum … during which Larsen’s head was kicked at least twice and skates and sticks passed dangerously over and around his head and neck.
Only belatedly was goalie Jacob Markstrom able to shield Larsen from the fray with his body while forward Markus Granlund signaled frantically for the trainers and medical people.
We saw it a month ago, in the now-famous Nazem Kadri unpunished hit that leveled Daniel Sedin. First, get Kadri. Second … hey, look at that. Daniel’s still down on all fours. Hope he’s OK.
It’s starting to sound like a broken record, I realize.
Fans who have grown up with the NHL in the age of the hit-to-injure, blow-up collision — once a rarity, now standard practice in just about every game — parrot the same line the Oilers’ Patrick Maroon uttered the other day (and came to regret): “It’s a man’s game.”
Safe in their armchairs, they don’t want to hear about measures that might take violent contact out of hockey. Neither do owners. They know their product needs to offer some form of entertainment, however ruthless, now that size-XXL goalies and coaching systems and shot-blocking skaters have created yet another dead puck era.
The injured? Tough luck. Collateral damage.
The message of the Governor General’s conference — which featured multiple concussion victims like Lindros and retired quarterback Matt Dunigan and trampolinist Rosie MacLellan pushing for more education and awareness, urging players and coaches and parents to change the culture surrounding brain injuries — got plenty of attention.
At some level, it may even lead to a broad consensus on how to tackle the epidemic that seems to loom over every contact sport.
But it won’t have reached its most influential target, and may never do so.
Lindros admitted he had scant hope that the NHL would take the message seriously.
“You’re not going to control pro sports,” he said at the conference. “What you can control is the classroom.”
Kids, and especially the parents and coaches who are frequently the enablers of the culture of denial, may be able to be nudged toward a realization of the fragility of the human brain, of the damage done by repeated violent contact.
The NHL? Pro sports leagues in general? They can’t afford to confront the root causes. They just clean up the accident scene, remove the body, and chalk it up to the cost of doing business.
Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.
No comments:
Post a Comment