Blackhawks forward Andrew Shaw hit a goalie. It was obvious and potentially concussive. The NHL said it was cracking down on hits involving the head. He deserved a suspension.
Nashville’s Shea Weber rammed a player’s head into the glass like it was turnbuckle. It was obvious and potentially concussive. The NHL said it was cracking down on hits involving the head. He deserved a suspension.
Weber only got fined $2,500, apparently because he’s a Norris Trophy candidate.
Shaw was suspended for three games, one for running into Smith and two for being a nobody, it seems to me.
We’re back to the NHL’s dark ages where justice depends on the back of guy’s trading card. Stars gets breaks to the point of embarrassment. Plebes get hammered.
For most of this season, NHL sheriff Brendan Shanahan was cleaning up the game. The stupidity seemed to be disappearing, and if not, it was punished severely, such as Hawks defenseman Duncan Keith’s five-game suspension for elbowing Daniel Sedin with seven games remaining in the regular season. Now, forget it.
I don’t know if general managers or owners with clout started leaning on Shanahan, but there are times where he ought to be delivering his explanations of supplemental discipline wearing a big, red nose.
The NHL has zero credibility because there appears to be zero consistency. If the league is trying to nail repeat offenders, fine. But it’s the act, as well as the actor.
This is the time of the year when everybody’s watching. It also has become the time of the year when everybody’s laughing.