The Best of Down Goes Brown (6 page)

 

 

Hockey fans often hear about the infamous “unwritten code” that governs fighting in the NHL. Any time there's an incident involving punches being thrown, you can count on someone making reference to The Code and whether a particular player's actions have violated it.

Unfortunately, it's a myth.

No, not the existence of The Code itself. It's the “unwritten” part that everyone has wrong. In reality, The Code has been written down in detail and passed on from one generation of NHL tough guys to the next. Every enforcer in the league has a copy; they just don't let us see it.

Until now, that is. I've obtained a tattered copy of The Code, and transcribed it below. It's time that hockey fans knew the truth.

 

So then we ask for the manager, and he comes by the table and wants to know what the problem is, and we start telling him about how …

Wait. Everybody be quiet. Wait.

That last Dion Phaneuf slapshot off the end glass. It didn't sound right. No, I know it sounded fine to you, Jim, because you're new at this. But I know that sound. That's the sound of a pane of glass crying out. The ref is inspecting it now, but I already know what he's going to find. That glass is cracked, and that means the ref is going to turn and wave at us, and that means …

It's go time, team.
Go go go!

Jim, Bill, Tom, you follow me. Somebody grab the ladder. Let's all awkwardly waddle-sprint across the ice and try not to think about how 18,000 fans are secretly hoping one of us will wipe out.

Waddle-sprint faster!

OK, we're here. Step one: Assess the damage. This one is bad, guys. We're going to need a brand new pane. What's that? Yes, Jim, we always need a brand new pane, every single time. But we still need to inspect it first to figure that out. Because that's the process, OK? Rookies.

Let's get set up, boys. Did we bring the right ladder? The one that's slightly too short for the job, and will force me to stretch in a way that reveals my belly button and makes everyone in the arena uncomfortable? Perfect. I'm going up.

All right, let's see here. Jim, I'm going to need you to bring me one of those little thingies that fits between the top of the glass. What do you mean, what's the technical name for it? That
is
the technical name: the little thingy that fits between the top of the glass. And no, I don't know what it's supposed to do, nobody does. It sits up there and then it occasionally falls out for no reason and stops the game. But we need to get one up there, stat, so I can whack it repeatedly with my hand until it fits. Go get one!

No rush. I'll self-consciously wait here on top of this ladder while everyone stares at me.

Ha ha. Well played, arena music guy. The
Jeopardy
theme—how very clever. Never heard that one before. Certainly very calming and helpful. Remind me to personally thank you the next time you come to me for help with a chipped windshield.

All right, Jim's back with the top of the glass thingy. Now let's remove the broken pane and replace it with a new one. Teamwork, everyone. Nice and easy. Good work. Bill and Tom, you waddle-sprint the old pane to the back. Jim and I will handle the replacement.

OK, rookie, listen up. We need to lower the new pane in very carefully to make absolutely sure that it doesn't fit quite right. That's it—have it tilt off to the side just the slightest bit. Now everyone stare at it in confusion. More staring. Can you hear the crowd groaning? That's how you know we're doing it right. OK, back up the ladder I go.

Did you say something, fan sitting in the front row? I should “hurry up?” I am doing my best, sir. You don't think I'm aware that the entire building and a million people at home are all waiting for me? You don't think I know that the TV guys are making awkward conversation right now and showing random replays of things that happened three games ago? I'm well aware of the stakes here, sir. I hope nothing happens to slow me down, like one of my tools slipping out of my hand and landing on somebody's head in the front row. Could really do some damage, couldn't it? Any other helpful advice you'd like to offer? No, I didn't think so.

OK guys, one more trip up the ladder and I should have it. It's not quite in right but I'm pretty sure I can jam it down if I just sort of lean into it. No pressure. Everyone just stay professional. Nice and calm. Nice. And. Calm.

Stop staring at me, goalie! I am doing my best!

OK, I think we've got it. Let's blow this joint. Somebody grab the ladder. Waddle-sprint for the exit while we soak up the lukewarm smattering of applause, which is almost definitely intended to be sarcastic. We're almost home.

Phew. Great work, boys.

Yes, we have a thankless job. We don't get our name on the Cup. Nobody wants to interview us. Kids don't point at us and think about how cool it would be to have our job, like they do for Mr. Hotshot Zamboni Driver over there. And sure, every hockey video game has the glass breaking every three freaking minutes, but do they include a detailed mini-simulation where you take control of the guys who fix it? No, they do not.

But make no mistake, we are the unsung heroes of the NHL. And it's worth it. Because deep down, they need us. And we do our job with pride and professionalism, and at the end of the day that's all that matters. Because when it's all said and done, we can go home and look at ourselves in our slightly crooked mirrors, and we can know deep in our hearts that …

Wait.

Oh for the love of …
Dion, learn to hit the net!
Can't the coaches make him practice that or something?

It's go time boys.
Go go go!