What We Have Heeya...
Is a failyuh to communicate.
From late April to mid-September I play pick up hockey on Saturday mornings. This particular get together has been around for going on around ten years, and some of the same guys have played there the whole time. It's an hour and a half of decently paced, fun hockey and is a great way to start the day. At least it usually is.
Last Saturday, late in the session, I popped free for a breakaway. Now the normal etiquette in pick up hockey is to not go after a guy too aggressively if he's in front of you on a breakaway. We're there to have fun. There are no referees so everyone operates on a type of honor system when it comes to the rules. If you're offside you leave the zone and regroup. You try not to commit penalties. You respect the other player and he respects you. Usually.
As I headed down the ice on this breakaway, a guy on the other team (we split up into whites and darks each week depending what jersey you put on) started hooking me from behind. This particular fellow has a reputation for such shenanigans, and a couple of weeks prior had done the same exact thing to me in the same situation. I fought through his hooks and bore in towards the net. Then he slid his stick up higher on my body and hooked my shoulder hard. This was more than I could take. Once was bad enough. Twice was not acceptable.
After I got off a weak shot that the goalie easily pushed aside, I wheeled around, slashed the stick out of the offender's hands, and advised him that conduct of that sort was not appreciated. Of course I added a few choice obscenities not appropriate for this family friendly environment. He replied lamely that his action was "part of the game" and we continued our verbal sparring for another thirty seconds or so as play continued. Then we separated and it appeared as if peace was once again at hand. I had sent my message and felt no need for further hostilities.
Unfortunately the feeling was not shared by all. I was playing defense at the time and had just gotten back into position after the little dust up to defend a rush. The puck carrier, who happened to be friends with the chap who had hooked me, skated in on my side and as he came in on me I knew that he had more in mind than trying to create an offensive opportunity. When you know that you're going to get hit the best way to defend yourself is to brace and position your body to take the blow and give a little back. He lowered his shoulder and tried to knock me off my feet. I lowered my shoulder and we slammed into each other and fell to the ice. I quickly got up, skated over to him, and asked why he had felt the need to take such action, once again sprinkling my language with adult content.
We were soon standing toe to toe jawing back and forth. Apparently he felt some silly chivalrous need to defend his friend, which I found a bit absurd considering that I'm all of five nine, a hundred and seventy pounds, about the same size as the guy who hooked me. I explained the rational for my earlier action and assured him that I had no quarrel with him. Of course at times such as this the testosterone if flowing freely and the tension is palpable. It's a powder keg ready to explode into violence at the slightest provocation.
So I sought to defuse the situation by appealing for calm.
"C'mon...", I said. As in come on let's be reasonable about the whole thing, we're here to have fun not to fight, can't we all just get along?
The problem was that in hockey "come on" is not typically viewed as an invitation for discourse. Rather it is a challenge to take matters to the next level. Often it is accompanied by the waving of the hand towards the body as in "C'mon...you want a piece of me?" and followed by the question "You wanna go?", which is an invitation to engage in a fisticuffs.
So when I said "C'mon" he interpreted it as just such a challenge and responded with, "C'mon? What you wanna go?"
The ridiculous nature of the situation we were now in was perfectly illustrated as I had to explain to him the meaning of my c'mon. No, I don't mean c'mon I want to fight. I mean c'mon let's settle down and act rationally. Which brought him back from the edge and prevented the outbreak of a fracas.
At this point a couple of other players gingerly stepped between us and we went our separate ways. We played the last few minutes without incident, and as far as I can tell, there in no lingering bad blood between any of us.
Unless that guy hooks me high again at which point there will be trouble. At least then I'll know what to not to say.
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