From Hits to Handcuffs: When Sports Violence Becomes Criminal
In most situations, punching someone in the face is a criminal offence. In hockey? That’s just Tuesday.
When fans watch an NHL game, they expect intensity, speed, and yes — physicality. From open-ice hits to bare-knuckle brawls, hockey culture has long embraced a degree of violence unusual in other professional sports.
Hockey players often endure hits that would trigger a lawsuit in any other setting — yet we shrug and say, “It’s part of the game.” But is it really that simple? Can an athlete legally consent to being assaulted just because they laced up skates or strapped on pads? Or are there moments when that flying elbow turns into a felony? Where does the line between "accepted risk" and criminal assault lie?
Let’s unpack the legal doctrine of consent to bodily harm — and why the rink might not be a get-out-of-jail-free zone after all.
Implied Consent: Signed the Waiver, not the Death Wish
In the eyes of the law, consent is not an all-access pass to violence. Under common law, individuals generally cannot legally consent to serious bodily harm — unless the activity serves a recognized socially valuable purpose. Competitive sports fall into this category, much like medical treatment or certain high-risk professions. As a result, courts have carved out a legal space where physical contact — even contact that would normally be considered assault — is allowed because it is intrinsic to the nature of the game.
This concept is known as implied consent. By stepping onto the ice, field, or court, athletes are understood to accept the ordinary risks of the sport — including the bumps, bruises, and hard hits that come with it. In hockey, for example, body checking and even fighting (to an extent) are tolerated as part of the culture and fabric of the game.
But this legal shield has limits. Consent only stretches as far as the rules and reasonable expectations of the sport. When a player crosses that line — say, by delivering a vicious cross-check to the head, launching an attack well after the whistle, or throwing a sucker punch — they may be acting outside the boundaries of implied consent. These are not just penalties in the rulebook; they can also be grounds for legal action.
In such cases, courts may view the conduct as reckless, intentional, or excessive, stripping the offending player of the protection normally afforded by consent. This opens the door to civil lawsuits for damages and, in extreme cases, criminal charges for assault or battery. The key legal question becomes: Was the act part of the game, or was it an attack disguised as sport?
When the Game Got… Litigious
1. Dale Hunter’s Hit on Pierre Turgeon (1993)
In the 1993 playoffs, Capitals' Dale Hunter delivered a brutal late hit on an unsuspecting Pierre Turgeon, who was in the process of celebrating a goal. While this would certainly constitute a violation of the hockey code, no criminal charges were filed. Hunter, however, was suspended for 21 games — a record at the time — reflecting the league’s recognition that such actions exceeded the bounds of acceptable play.
Though Hunter avoided legal consequences, the incident is often cited in academic discussions of how league discipline intersects with criminal law thresholds.
He now serves as a role model for impressionable youths.
2. Happy Gilmour’s prestigious “Hockey Record” (1996)
This one is pretty self-explanatory.
3. Marty McSorley and the Brashear Incident (2000)
One of the most infamous incidents occurred on February 21, 2000, when Boston Bruins defenseman Marty McSorley swung his stick and struck Vancouver’s Donald Brashear in the head. Brashear immediately collapsed on the ice and began convulsing. It was later determined that he suffered a Grade III concussion on the play.
McSorley was charged with assault with a weapon (i.e., the hockey stick) and was found guilty, receiving an 18-month conditional discharge. This case set a clear precedent that some on-ice conduct, particularly when retaliatory or premeditated, can rise to the level of criminality.
4. Todd Bertuzzi and Steve Moore (2004)
Perhaps no incident looms larger than Todd Bertuzzi’s attack on Steve Moore.
On February 16, 2004, Moore delivered a controversial hit on Canucks’ superstar, Markus Naslund. Tensions simmered and, a few weeks later, on March 8, the teams met again. During this rematch, Bertuzzi punched Moore from behind, drove him head-first into the ice, and broke three vertebrae in Moore’s neck, ending his career.
Bertuzzi was charged with assault causing bodily harm, pleaded guilty, and received a conditional discharge and probation. Moore also sued Bertuzzi and the Canucks organization for $68 million, in a civil suit, which was eventually settled in 2014 for an undisclosed sum.
This case highlighted not only criminal liability but also organizational accountability, raising questions about coaching culture and the “vigilante justice” which takes place within professional hockey.
5. Zdeno Chara, Max Pacioretty, and the Stanchion (2011)
Most recently, on March 8, 2011, during a regular season game between the Boston Bruins and Montreal Canadiens, Zdeno Chara rode Max Pacioretty into the boards, causing his head to collide with the stanchion - a rigid metal divider. As a result, Pacioretty suffered a severe concussion and a non-displaced fracture of the fourth cervical vertebra in his neck, causing him to miss the remainder of the regular season and playoffs.
The NHL did not suspend or fine Chara, ruling that it was a “hockey play” that had an unfortunate result, but that there was no intent to injure. This decision drew intense criticism from fans, media, and even corporate sponsors. Notably, Air Canada sent a formal letter to the NHL expressing concern over player safety.
After a formal complaint was filed by a member of the public, and societal pressure mounted, the Montreal police reluctantly opened a criminal investigation into the incident. Upon reviewing the case, however, prosecutors declined to file criminal charges, stating there was insufficient evidence to proceed with a prosecution.
To this day, the public remains divided. Many believe the hit crossed a line — not just due to its violent outcome, but because they deemed it to be retaliatory in nature, as the two players had a run-in earlier that season when Pacioretty shoved Chara after scoring an overtime winner. Others argued that the injury was caused more by the dangerous arena design — specifically, the stanchion — than by Chara’s actions.
Regardless, the incident sparked broader discussions about player safety, NHL discipline, and whether the league was doing enough to prevent head injuries.
Misconduct, Meet the Criminal Code
These cases shine a spotlight on the uneasy tension between hockey’s internal “code” and the external legal standards that govern the rest of society. In the rink, acts of aggression are often judged not just by the official rulebook, but by an unwritten ethos — one that prizes toughness, retaliation, and “handling things yourself.” The NHL, for its part, has historically preferred to keep discipline in-house, relying on fines, suspensions, and the occasional public wrist-slap to maintain order.
But the law doesn’t lace up skates or follow the hockey code. And when on-ice behavior veers from rough play into reckless or premeditated violence, the justice system has shown it’s willing to step in — particularly when the league’s response seems insufficient or public outrage boils over.
Still, criminal charges in professional hockey remain the exception, not the rule. Prosecutors face a delicate balancing act: they must consider the athlete’s intent, the nature of the act, the expectations of the sport, and the risk assumed by the injured party. In legal terms, consent is not a blank cheque — and certainly not a get-out-of-jail-free card for vigilante justice or deliberate harm.
Yes, hockey players accept that the game is physical — bruises, stitches, and even the occasional black eye are all part of the bargain. But there’s a legal and ethical line between accepted risk and unlawful assault. And when a player crosses that line with intent or reckless disregard, neither the scoreboard nor the culture should shield them from consequences. The game may be governed by its own norms, but it’s not above the law.
Conclusion: A Shift Toward Accountability?
In sports, we cheer for contact — not court cases. But just because violence is part of the spectacle doesn’t mean the law sits in the penalty box. Consent may stretch to cover hard hits, accidental collisions, and even the occasional gloves-off scrap. What it doesn’t cover is deliberate harm, blindside attacks, or retaliation masquerading as gameplay. And no, “he started it” still doesn’t fly in court.
The takeaway? Stepping onto the ice means accepting a degree of risk — but that doesn’t give anyone a free pass to cross the line. Consent in sport is a legal concept, not a licence to injure. When players forget that, the law has a way of reminding them — sometimes with more force than a 5-minute major.
So yes, the game is fast, physical, and emotional. But accountability is no longer just a post-game interview buzzword. It’s becoming part of the legal conversation, too — and it’s about time the code caught up with the law.
