The Players Who Commit Headshots Are Not Evil

You had to know that it wouldn't be too long before Raffi Torres found himself in hot water over a headshot. Having watched him play all season, it's been clear to me that, while he tends to hit cleanly (and beautifully, at times), he also hits often (134 this season). This style of play is not without its risks. By this, I mean head hits like the one Torres laid on Jordan Eberle.

I'm not excusing it or arguing against the suspension handed down this afternoon. Torres deserved to be suspended for this hit because of what it was. This was a headshot. He did not, however, deserve to be demonized for it. Unfortunately, he was, and it wasn't fair. This was an accident. Most headshots are.

As long as there's hitting, headshots are unavoidable in the NHL. Make the punishment as stiff as you want--they'll still happen. They're a part of this game, not unlike hooking, tripping, high sticking and all the other infractions that are against the rules and still find ways to occur, usually by accident. And yet, we've somehow reduced this complicated issue down to an issue of bad people doing bad things. So often, we argue about the player's intent, as though he intended to concuss the victim when he took his first stride. Most of the time, intent has nothing to do with it. The player intended to make a hit. It just didn't go well.

Other NHL accidents are understood for what they are. Players get four-minute minors for cutting a guy's face with a high stick. There's no good time or strategic reason to take this penalty, and yet, somehow, we see double minors on the regular. That's because, no matter how disciplined these guys are with their sticks and no matter how stiff the consequences for getting them up, it still just happens sometimes. It's a fast game, and when a guy turns suddenly, your perfect position can become a dangerous one in a hurry. People understand this, except when it comes to headshots. Every one of those seems a clear-cut case of black-and-white villainy. We react to each ugly hit like the perpetrator was secretly the devil all along.

People act like every headshot is fully avoidable, like a shoulder making contact with the head is some sort of preplanned act of violence. We vilify these guys immediately, then turn our noses up at their brutality. You half expect a random search of the perpetrator's locker to turn up diagrams of the victim's skull with a bright red X exactly where the hit took place. We suddenly imagine the perpetrator twirling a moustache, making off with a princess, or petting an evil sidecat with a robotic arm.

Never, except for this sudden age of headshot hysteria, have these guys been so thoroughly psychoanalyzed: Did he mean to do it? Was his elbow tucked? In this freeze-frame, he's in the air. Did he leave his feet, or did the contact lift him off the ground? Are those horns I see under his helmet? Does reflection in the ice appear eerily goatlike to you?

The problem is that these are workplace accidents in a workplace we don't want to admit is flawed. If most headshots are mostly accidental, that would indicate the problem is with the game, not the players playing it. Nobody wants to admit that. The game is awesome right now. It's exciting. It's fast. So, rather than admit the game might have to undergo some unwanted changes to increase player safety, we demonize the players that continue to remind us of the inevitable. Effectively, we shoot the messenger. We've spent a year critizing NHLers for being unable to simply will headshots away. Maybe it's worth considering if the problem lies elswhere.

One comparison you often hear is the sweet and gentle NFL, where this same problem arose and was swiftly dealt with. People act like headshots can be legislated out of hockey the same way they've been somewhat mitigated in football, through tough disciplinary structures and, presumably, player buy-in.

This shows a full misunderstanding of the root of the NHL's headshot problem. It's not the same as the NFL's. Football is a completely different game. Most tackles aren't shoulder to shoulder. They're down lower, and adjusting to a ban on head hits is a much simpler proposition. There simply aren't as many reasons to be up that high on a guy in a game of football.

However, hockey hits are shoulder to shoulder and, in what's turned out to be a massive design flaw for hockey player anatomy, the shoulder is perilously close to the head. The sport is also twice as fast as football, and the players are usually extended, in full skating stride, and carrying enough momentum that an on-ice collision is like a small traffic accident. Going for a hit, even the slightest miscalculation or unwanted adjustment from either party--at breakneck speed, remember--means that an intended shoulder to shoulder contact becomes a gruesome accident.

It's a wonder there aren't more dangerous collisions.

So yes, let's suspend players for these hits. Let's make sure everyone is aware these hits are unwelcome in the NHL. But let's not psychoanalyze, and let's take some of the blame we're placing on the players, and place it on the game.