COLUMN: Hockey here can still throw a punch
I went to a fight the other day, and a hockey game broke out.
That’s not an original. Thank you, Rodney Dangerfield. But I don’t think I ever have been to a hockey game when it wasn’t like having a ringside seat at a boxing match.
You expect a few left hooks and, when you don’t get them, you walk away somewhat disappointed. It’s as if sparring and upper cuts are in the rules of engagement. Draw enemy blood. Punch out some teeth. At a recent Macon Mayhem hockey game, my family and I had just settled into our seats – Section 123, Row P at the Macon Centreplex Coliseum -- when we were back on our feet and hollering.
The referee dropped the puck at center ice to start the game and, 13 seconds later, the slugfest began. Two players were flailing and pushing each other around. Heat on ice. It was obvious they did not like each other.
The first fight of the night would not be the last. Fans were yelling for players they did not know, whose names they could not pronounce.
During my career as a sportswriter, I witnessed bench-clearing brawls in baseball, fisticuffs at the end of controversial basketball contests and football players pounding each other into submission long after the whistle had blown.
The officials, umpires and referees would try to break it up. Fighting is not permitted. But, in hockey, the rules-keepers are more passive. They often step back and watch with the rest of us, before sending the violators to the penalty box … to sit in time out and cool off.
Hockey is an amazing game of speed and agility, with high-flying collisions and board-crashing body checks.
I’m just glad to see the Macon Mayhem literally and collectively still fighting. This town, this team, has had success in recent seasons and has inherited and developed a dedicated fan base. Although this season has been a struggle in the Southern Professional Hockey League standings, folks still turn out to support the home team.
The night we went, the crowd was a mixture of young folks and the old faithful. It was on the slim side, but there were contributing factors. It was a weeknight. There was a threat of bad weather. And the Winter Olympics were on TV.
I was told the crowds have been decent on the weekends, especially when there is a promotion. I was impressed by the professionalism of the Mayhem and Centreplex staff. They were courteous and helpful.
Admittedly, it had been several years since I had last attended a game. (Last year, COVID restrictions were in place during the season.)
My youngest son, Jake, bought our tickets in December as a Christmas gift. We went with my two other sons, Ed and Grant, and my oldest grandchildren, Brewer and Sterling Gray.
We had fun and made some memories. We tried our luck at the traditional chuck-a-puck contest. We were shown on the “fan cam” video on the scoreboard several times, thanks to Sterling Gray’s dancing.
I ran into a few friends. Tim Kurtz told me he has been a season ticket holder since the hockey returned to Macon in the 1990s – first with the Whoopee and the later the Trax and Mayhem franchises. We got to see our neighbor, James Wolf, who drives the Zamboni. How cool is that? It was good to visit with Kim Lander in his familiar spot as a goal judge. He has been affiliated with Macon hockey since he was an assistant trainer for the original Whoopees in the 1970s.
Somehow, it was a fitting week to watch a hockey game in Macon – for old times sake. Earlier that week, on Valentine’s Day, marked the anniversary of the final game of the 1973-74 Whoopees team, which folded nine games before the end of the Southern Hockey League season, cutting short the city’s four-month romance with hockey.
The end came on Feb. 14, 1974, and some folks still refer to it as the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre. Agents from the Internal Revenue Service stormed the Coliseum and confiscated everything from aspirin to hockey pucks. The original team’s owner left town owing a lot of people a lot of money.
The Whoopees -- perhaps the most unique sports team nickname of all time -- were a paradox, of sorts. They were named after an old Doris Day song, “Makin’ Whoopee.’’ They were the shortest-lived and most endearing team to call Macon home, trailblazers whose legend lives on almost a half-century later.
In many ways, Macon simply wasn’t ready for hockey 49 years ago. The “Ice Age” came and went without ever really arriving. It was a “foreign” sport to fans who didn’t understand this odd game being played by French-Canadiens. The team found itself competing for attention with Wednesday night church suppers and professional wrestling.
Now, the fan base is more sustainable. The natives know the rules … or at least many of them think they do. Because of Robins Air Force Base and a number of companies locating here, there has been an influx of folks moving to Middle Georgia from Northern states, where they cut their teeth on hockey.
The Mayhem does a nice job marketing, promoting and introducing its players to the community at different events and functions.
They are trying to reach out. We should make the effort to reach back.
Our city is past the point of wishful thinking that hockey will catch on.
It has found a home. Hopefully, it won’t skate away again. Even when the ice seems thin, it keeps fighting.
Ed Grisamore teaches journalism at Stratford Academy in Macon. His column appears on Sundays in The Telegraph.