League Deserved Judge’s Hit

The case the NHL never wanted to go before a court has been decided. Marty McSorley has been found guilty of assault with a weapon for hitting Vancouver Canuck forward Donald Brashear in the head from behind with his stick in a misguided attempt to goad Brashear into a fight last Feb. 21. Provincial Court Judge William Kitchen showed clarity and common sense in rejecting McSorley’s claim he intended to strike Brashear’s shoulder and missed, and that old wrist and hand injuries had rendered McSorley, then of the Boston Bruins, unable to adequately control his stick.

(Oh, so that’s why McSorley was carrying an illegal stick during Game 2 of the 1993 Stanley Cup finals, while he played for the Kings. His wrist was so injured he couldn’t tell that all the sticks he brought to the Montreal Forum that night were excessively curved. He didn’t mean to take a penalty that gave the Canadiens a power play that changed the course of the game and the series).

What McSorley meant toward Brashear is irrelevant. It’s what he did that matters, because his action could have had tragic repercussions. And although the NHL insisted it can police its own players without interference from outside authorities, it should be grateful the courts stepped in, because the gravity of a guilty verdict in a court of law may have a chilling effect that no league suspension or fine can create.

The NHL, especially in the last few years, has reacted swiftly to punish players who use their sticks as swords. It is concerned about the number and severity of head injuries players have suffered, and rightfully so. But if its in-house sanctions are strong enough deterrents to keep the courts away, why would McSorley--an experienced player at 37--ignore those sanctions?

This is not a kid from Swift Current or Slovakia, unfamiliar with the ways of the NHL world. McSorley, who was suspended for the last 23 games of the 1999-2000 season, had been suspended before. Such punishments are a perverted badge of honor for some players, giving them an outlaw reputation that keeps other players afraid and guarantees them a job as long as they want one. Check any NHL roster and you’ll find a player similar in skill (or lack thereof) to McSorley. They’re not there to dance.

The NHL maintained the incident is over, and it will continue to severely punish inappropriate actions according to its own set of rules.

“The Court [on Friday] said that its focus was solely on the charge against Mr. McSorley,” NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman said. “This was not a trial of the game or the NHL. Clearly this incident was not representative of NHL hockey or NHL players.”

But in a sense, this was a trial of the NHL and its system of imposing supplementary discipline was found wanting. Obviously, the threat of a suspension and fine didn’t prevent McSorley from hitting Brashear. Those threats aren’t enough to stop other mindless acts. They don’t occur often, perhaps, but once is enough to kill someone.

McSorley’s lawyer, Bill Smart, contended NHL players give “explicit consent” to the risk of contact and injuries every time they step onto the ice. That’s true, to an extent. Players know their careers may be ended by a blow from a stray puck--Toronto defenseman Bryan Berard and Montreal forward Trent McCleary were victims of such random misfortune last season--just as there are inherent hazards in other high-risk professions. But no one, desperate for the dollar though he may be, gives implicit or explicit consent to being maimed or crippled by an opponent who takes the law into his own admittedly less than steady hands.

McSorley may not be representative of NHL players, as Bettman said. But that didn’t make Brashear’s head any less bruised and it won’t make the next victim any less injured when something like this happens again.

It was all so needless. Brashear, who had fought McSorley once in that game, resisted McSorley’s efforts to lure him into another bout as the Bruins’ game at Vancouver neared its end. McSorley acknowledged in court he tried to hit Brashear to provoke him. McSorley chose to do that by skating up to Brashear from behind and whipping his stick in an upward trajectory toward the temple of his unsuspecting opponent.

It was reckless. It was dangerous. It flouted the code of honor that binds tough guys. You want to start a fight? Challenge the guy to his face. You don’t hit from behind and you don’t hit someone in the head with your stick. Avenging a hit against a teammate is acceptable. Inflicting a potentially deadly head injury upon an opponent can’t ever be considered acceptable. Brashear suffered a concussion but returned before the end of the season. Will the next victim be as lucky?

McSorley, said Kitchen, “slashed for the head. A child swinging at a tee-ball would not miss. A housekeeper swinging a carpet beater would not miss. An NHL player would never, ever miss.”

McSorley hit his target. In doing so, he drew a bull’s-eye on the game he claims to respect and love, the game that has afforded him a comfortable living for longer than anyone of his talent could have reasonably expected.

Whatever lessons are learned from this, however, must be drawn from the verdict itself, because the sentence imposed against McSorley seems as toothless as a goon from the old six-team league.

McSorley was given 18 months’ probation, during which he can’t play against Brashear. That may be moot, because McSorley is unsigned and too controversial for anyone to sign now. Should he be offered a contract, McSorley must first be cleared by Bettman, who can extend his suspension. McSorley got no jail time, no fine. He should have been required to speak before youth groups about the evils of his actions. Off the ice, he’s an articulate and persuasive speaker. That should have been put to good use.

It’s tempting to declare winners and losers in legal wrangling, as in games, but there’s no winner here. Brashear suffered physically, McSorley suffered financially and the NHL suffered a blow to an image it is perpetually polishing. If it took the “intrusion” of the legal system to scare players from committing acts like McSorley’s, hooray for the Canadian courts for doing a job the NHL could not do itself.