Beyond hockey's inherent excitement and sheer speed; beyond its matchless grace and awe-inducing physicality, there's another cherished element to the best game you can name: the quiet chivalry of the post-series handshake.
Indeed, when that final game has been played and a team is eliminated from the playoffs or a championship tilt, there is an understated beauty that unfolds when former combatants line up opposite one and other while extending their hands and saying, "Nice game."
The post-series handshake is something you don't see in most other team sports; the losing players on baseball, basketball, and football teams typically make a beeline for the dressing room once the final whistle sounds.
And that's too bad. For when the victors shake hands with the vanquished out on the ice, what results is an act of good sportsmanship that is nothing short of endearing. Whereas mere minutes ago those very same players were virtually smearing one another into the boards in pursuit of the puck, when that final buzzer sounds and a champion is declared, an armistice kicks in and hostilities immediately cease. At this point, there's no more body checking or fisticuffs or swearing. Rather, there's just a respectful realization that the series ended magnificently for one squad and, well, not so jolly for the other.
Still, there's no shame in honest failure. Which is the very reason why losing players line up to shake hands with the victors in the first place.
Alas, what I witnessed at the conclusion of a local league hockey championship in Thornton, Ont. recently made a mockery of hockey's ultimate act of chivalry.
The details: the Bantam Championship Final was contested between the Thornton Tigers and the Oak Ridges Kings as part of The Ontario Minor Hockey Association (OMHA). The Tigers won the game 2-1, and with the victory, captured the best-of-five series. Full disclosure: my son, Adam, plays for Oak Ridges.
The game itself was a penalty-filled affair. Indeed, a Kings' player had to be taken to hospital after the game upon suffering a concussion -- he had been brutally cross-checked from behind into the boards after the game's final buzzer sounded.
I could devote an entire column to the multiple cheap shots and a referee so incompetent he made ex-NHL official Kerry Fraser resemble the second coming of Red Storey. But I shan't go there.
Instead, I'll reflect upon the desecration that was inflicted upon the post-game handshake. Here's what happened: The players on both teams lined up and for the most part, the time-honoured ritual unfolded just as you'd expect.
But, sadly, some of the victorious Tigers broke the code. They refused to shake hands. And as they slowly skated down the lineup of opposing players, instead of uttering positive parting words, they spewed vulgarities: "Loser. Faggot. Retard."
Nice.
Disturbingly, Thornton's coaching staff turned a collective blind eye to the antics. Even more disturbing, many of the Thornton parents in the stands seemingly approved of their sons' behaviour. Dirty tactics aside, witnessing the sanctity of hockey's post-game handshake violated to such a degree resulted in a sad spectacle indeed.
Not that such a thing is unprecedented. Billy Smith, the combative netminder who backstopped the New York Islanders dynasty to four straight Stanley Cups in the early 80s, never shook hands with opposing players. But as much as Smith was a bona fide "money goaltender," he'll forever be a zero rather than a hero in my book for his cowardly post-series behavior.
Bottom line, there's something even more important than losing with grace: namely, winning with dignity.
On the ice, the Thornton Tigers are champs. That's irrefutable. But when it comes to the bigger picture, those players who decided to trash talk rather than shake hands disgraced not only themselves but a cherished element of the game itself.
How sad.