I appreciate a good hockey fight as much as the next guy.
When I was a kid, my favorite team was the hometown Chicago Blackhawks, and my favorite players included Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita, Glenn Hall and Reggie Fleming.
 |
Join the Discussion |
 |
Post a Comment |
Hull, Mikita and Hall are Hall of Famers, so the reason for my youthful embrace is self-explanatory.
Fleming, however, was a journeyman.
He did not own a 110-mph slap shot or have a catchy nickname like the Golden Jet, as Hull did.
He was not a prolific playmaker and goal-scorer who happened to live in the neighborhood, like Mikita.
He was not an extraordinary goaltender known for getting so nervous before games that he often threw up, like Hall.
Instead, Fleming was the Hawks’ enforcer.
If somebody took a shot at Hull or Mikita — cheap or otherwise — he was the guy expected to even the score.
I thought of Fleming last week, while covering the ECHL game between Utah and Idaho.
In the third period, with the Grizzlies trailing by three goals, all hell broke loose.
Even by Reggie Fleming standards, it was over-the-top.
Too much of what, in moderation, adds spice to the sport.
If you’ve ever seen the famous hockey movie "Slap Shot," you have an idea of what I mean.
There have been fewer fights in the yard at the Utah State Prison.
At one time, two different blood trails were visible on the ice, leading from the site of a fight to the benches.
The chaos began when Idaho’s Matt Case knocked down C.J. Severyn.
Next Page >Copyright 2012 The Salt Lake Tribune. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
