1993 I was twelve and obsessed with hockey. Though my love stemmed from a crush on a high school goalie for our town’s Junior C team, who was seven years my senior, I fell madly for the Toronto Maple Leafs goalie, Felix Potvin: number 29.

I would watch every televised game until I was summoned for bedtime. At that time, I would plug in my headphones, lie on my back and visualize the game as it played out in my ears. I rarely made it through to the end of the third period. I would awake the following morning, or later that evening, to a tangled mess of wire wrapper precariously around my face and neck, ear buds strewn across the bed, I would scramble to get them back in my ears to catch the end of the game or the score on the morning new cast.

I knew most of the stats about the major players and I followed the playoff rankings without abandon. I was a force to be reckon with amongst my class of hormonal know-it-all preteen boys. I think they may have believed it was my plight to be noticed, to be one of them - hence my newfound love for the game: that was not the case.

I was in love with the game of hockey.

I don’t think my dad was ever so proud of me as he was when we had hockey to share.

Over the years my love dwindled. Felix was traded. The Leafs changed, as did I.

I still enjoy the game, though it’s not like I remembered. There isn’t the thrill of the game as there was, but more so embarassment for so-called men that now play the game.

Four years ago the game changed.

Four years ago Todd Bertuzzi sucker punched Steve Moore from behind, breaking his neck, giving him a concussion and ending his professional hockey career.

This week Mr. Bertuzzi flied a lawsuit against his former coach.

In part his lawsuit states that the coach:

“failed to exercise control over and caution his players against physical aggression toward Moore when he knew or ought to have known that this was likely to result in injury to Moore.”

In short Bertuzzi is filing claim that his former coach should have had more control over his players and has gone so far as to claim that he was “contractually bound” to follow the alleged request of his former coach.

Tell me. At which point in one’s life does someone feel compelled to blame their physical actions upon someone else? There is no one in charge of making someone harm another human being, but oneself. How does someone feel they can justifiably claim that another person is responsible for their actions? How can Todd Bertuzzi claim - with a straight face - that his actions were because he was “contractually bound” to bring physical harm to another player?

While playing football in high school Mike was requested by his coach to spear one of his opponents. To bring harm to a fellow high school student with the intent of taking him out of the game.

Mike said no.

He risked his high school football career, the friendships he’s acquired over time, the admiration of fellow students and players… for what was right.

He knew what was right.

He knew to say no.

He took responsibility for his actions.

He stopped playing football after that game.

Bertuzzi refuses to take the consequences of his own actions but instead is trying to pin those actions on someone else.

How can he say he’s remorseful for what he did to Steve Moore, then turn around and sue someone else for what he’s done? Doesn’t sound very remorseful to me.

Is society so far gone that we longer have to accept responsibility for our own actions? So far gone that we can sue someone else for our actions?

Not-so Related Posts:

• All Aboard the Crazy Train! We’re Talking about Postpartum
• When mommies are strong…
• happy father’s day to No. 1