Rugged, physical contact has always been an integral part of professional hockey, especially when it is in the form of checking. A flattening check on the boards is what makes the game exciting, particularly when a player can combine it with scoring prowess (see
Cam Neely, the prototypical NHL power forward who starred for the Boston Bruins from 1986 to 1996).
When rugged, physical contact entails fighting, however, the debate then changes--especially when viewing the legal rights of an NHL player and the legal obligations of an NHL team. Namely, can fighting comprise part of one's employment for an NHL team?
On one hand, fighting is against the rules, so perhaps it should not be considered part of one's employment. How can one be "employed" to partake in something disallowed? That would seem to negate the contract's very foundation.
On the other hand, some players are paid by their NHL employers to pick fights and win fights (and thus break these rules), and they do so in order to protect star players (with the idea essentially one of deterrence: if a player on the other team delivers a cheap shot to your star player, then your team's "enforcer" will likely retaliate). In other words, some players--often called "goons"--would not be employed but for their willingess to fight; others would earn less compensation without that willingness.
In an unpublished opinion, the Virginia Court of Appeals
recently addressed this topic while assessing workers compensation rights.
Ty Jones, who played in 14 NHL games during separate (and brief) stints in 1999 and 2004, was playing for the Norfolk Admirals in the American Hockey League in 2002 and his coach instructed him to instigate a fight with a player on the other team. Jones was hurt in the fight, suffering a serious shoulder injury that required surgery (with 6 screws being inserted into his shoulder). Jones would take 7 months to recover.
Jones applied for workers compensation while he was hurt. Workers comp typically entails full disability and medical benefits, which in this case comprised $670 a week for 28 weeks ($18,760). The Virginia Workers' Compensation Commission awarded it, reasoning that "fighting is an integral part of the game of hockey" and that the Admirals employed Jones in part to play the role as an "enforcer." The Admiral unsuccessfully appealed, arguing that Jones voluntarily fought and that fighting was not a part of his employment.
Sports Law Blog friend Ryan Rodenberg--associate general counsel of
Octagon--notes several interesting implications of this decision:
Could the holding be extended to other sports?
What if Chuck Daly told Bill Laimbeer to commit a hard foul against Scottie Pippin in a playoff game against the Bulls in the late 1980's, and Laimbeer got hurt?
What if a Philadelphia Eagles player got hurt while trying to collect on a purported "bounty" offered by Coach Buddy Ryan during Ryan's short stint at the helm of the Eagles?
Although in the amateur sports context (and outside the scope of any worker's comp laws), there was the recent incident earlier this year when Temple basketball coach John Cheney instructed seldom-used player Nehemiah Ingram, who is 6'8" and 250 lbs., to "send a message" to St. Joseph's player John Bryant...and promptly broke Bryant's arm during an Atlantic 10 game.
It is important to note that this case does not set precedent, since it is "unpublished." As such, the most intriguing aspect is probably that a judge opined that fighting is an "integral part" of hockey.
Those are excellent questions, and they pertain to the salience of both negligence and vicarious liability in this context: if a coach instructs a player to hurt another player, the team and the coach would appear to have breached a duty of care to the victimized player (and thus both could be sued as negligent actors); alternatively, if a team (through its coaching staff) is aware or should have been appear that a fight was going to break-out, then vicarious liability may trigger, with the idea that fighting can be legally considered part of the player's employment and the team was in the best position to monitor the player (i.e., it could have benched him if he was a risk to injure other players).
Related Coverage: Were the Texas Rangers Negligent in Failing to Control Kenny Rogers? (10/11/2005)
