Blues fans have done much yelping about NHL disciplinarian Brendan Shanahan and the punishment he metes out.
They claim the former Blues star has been overly harsh on players wearing the Note. They claim he has been too lenient on those miscreants taking liberties with the local side.
Minnesota Wild center Warren Peters got just a one-game ban for cross-checking David Backes in the head. That was just one of several stunts the frustrated Wild pulled at the end of a lopsided loss; the others went unpunished by the league.
When fans learned that Shan the Man was visiting the Blues today to discuss his disciplinary process, wisecracks flew on Twitter and on the message boards.
But here’s the deal: Fans everywhere rail against Shanahan, just as they howled at his predecessor Colin Campbell. Policing the game with supplemental discipline is a subjective exercise that promotes angry second-guessing.
Blame the system, not the man.
Back in the day, players policed the game themselves with their fists. The resulting ice justice was more emotionally satisfying for just about everybody.
Remember when Keith Tkachuk permanently scarred Shanahan with a high stick, slicing his mouth open? Shanahan came back into the game with his swollen face and punched out Walt during a memorable act of retribution.
Today such a high sticking injury would lead to exhaustive review, a league hearing and ultimately a Shanahan Studios presentation on the nature of the foul and the rationale for the punishment issued.
Shanahan has proven admirably transparent and instructive in his new role. Blues analyst Kelly Chase, one of the game’s best sheriffs during his playing days, insists Shanahan is doing good work promoting player safety.
Chase laments the lack of mutual respect among today's players. He also notes the demise of self-preservation instincts among young players, an unintended and unhappy byproduct of junior hockey reform.
This current disciplinary climate pleases commissioner Gary Bettman as his league makes marketing inroads with the more civilized segments of American society. As a witness to the glorious (Chuck) Norris Division era, though, your cyber-correspondent feels nostalgic about the NHL’s gory days.
When the Wild began acting up Saturday afternoon, this thought game to mind: “Line fight!”
In the old days, the Blues would have responded to Minnesota's misbehavior by instigating a free for all. They would have utilized their last player change on home ice to roll willing combatants onto the ice for 5-on-5 action.
With any luck, fans would have learned the answer to this question: “Can Wild goaltender Josh Harding fight?” With any luck, fans would have flashed back to the great Ken Wilson call: “Here comes Cheveldae!”
(Cheveldae left his crease to join the fray during one of the regularly scheduled Blues-Red Wings line fights. Curtis Joseph memorably handled Cheveldae in their ensuing scrap. Many kids attending that game with their fathers still cherish that family bonding moment.)
The old system was simple and direct. There was no need for a lot of paperwork.
Wild hit man Cal Clutterbuck tells Andy McDonald that he wishes he got another concussion?
We all know how aptly named Garth Butcher would have responded to such an affront to a skilled teammate.
Clutterbuck decides to run Blues goaltender Brian Elliott at the end of the game?
Geoff Courtnall would have surely answered by suffering one of his famous brake failures while driving toward the Minnesota net.
Back in the day, players resolved matters themselves during the game, after the game or in the hallways under the stands. When the boys finally left the rink, they usually considered the dispute resolved. In many cases, they hooked up for beers afterward.
(The exception to the rule: playoff hockey. Postseason instigation and retribution continued unabated throughout the series until the final horn, when the players lined up and shook hands like gentlemen.)
Since humans are supposed to evolve and become more sophisticated over time, we can't demand the NHL return to its barbaric roots — just like we can't urge pro basketball to go back to playing inside cages.
And yet there is something to be said for making transgressors reflect on their misdeeds while icing their face on the bench . . .
