Commissioner Gary Bettman is a man under siege. Two National Hockey League franchises have filed for bankruptcy protection. Several more are up for sale. Attendance is flat-lining. The likelihood of a lockout or a players' strike looms larger every day.
And now this: team mascots gone bad.
Sadly, this is not a new television show on the Fox network. This is the real thing, worse even than Mike Ricci's hairdo and more troublesome than a wandering Patrick Roy.
The other night in Calgary, Flames mascot Harvey the Hound snapped at the sight of the Edmonton Oilers and began frothing at the mouth. He taunted the Oilers while leaning menacingly over the glass behind their bench. For that, he had his cloth tongue ripped from his mouth by Edmonton head coach Craig MacTavish, who then tossed the offending tongue into the stands.
Now be honest: If your team was losing 4-0 and you were being mocked by a 6-foot-6 dog wearing a red hat and a pair of pants, wouldn't you want to rip its tongue out and toss it into the stands? Isn't that what a bad mascot deserves?
Of course it is. You have to set an example with these mascots otherwise they'll run wild all over the place.
Pretty soon we'd have packs of mascot dogs, panthers, penguins and coyotes roaming in every arena using high-pressure guns to shoot T-shirts at unsuspecting people. It'll be madness. Someone could lose an eye.
Hey, it's already an animal act out there in hockey.
Last year in San Jose, Theo Fleury was playing for the New York Rangers and playing his usual game, which meant he was thrown out before the third period ended. On his way to the dressing room, Fleury ran into Sharks mascot, S.J. Sharkie. The next thing you know, Fleury's carrying on like Robert Shaw trying not to get eaten in Jaws. Fortunately for Fleury, he got away, while Sharkie reportedly suffered a broken rib.
No doubt it would have been a dark day for the NHL had it lost one of its star players to a land-shark attack.
Pro hockey's worst mascot case goes back to 1995. It occurred in the old International Hockey League and, to this day, even the mention of the name Sir Slap Shot sends a ripple of fear down many a spine.
According to those who witnessed the attack, Sir Slap Shot, a large blob of a mascot resembling the Michelin Man with a lot more air in him, was relentlessly razzing the Cincinnati Cyclones and their head coach Don Jackson.
Sir Slap Shot event went so far as to run down a stairway and hurl himself at the glass behind the Cyclones' bench.
This was not a good idea because: a) Sir Slap Shot's weight knocked down the glass behind the Cyclones' bench, and b) it also knocked Jackson for a loop, as he had been leaning against the glass at the time.
Jackson went after the ornery mascot and pummelled him with both fists. As you can imagine, it was a one-sided fight. Jackson drew a $1,000 fine and a 10-game suspension for his part, and as for Sir Slapped Around, he was never seen again.
And really, that's what you have to do with these creatures. You have to show them who's boss, otherwise they'll be squirting water at visiting players sitting in the penalty box (see Charlotte Checkers' mascot Chubby Checker, 1994, East Coast Hockey League) or worse, they'll be squirting mustard (see Louisville Ice Hawk incident, 1995, ECHL).
And let's not forget what Boom Boom did in one final, desperate act of defiance.
As mascot of the IHL's Las Vegas Thunder, Boom Boom the polar bear opted to go out with a bang. When ordered by police not to throw memorabilia into the stands during the team's final game, Boom Boom refused. He kept tossing until the police tried to stop him. Then he did what all crazed mascots do -- he ran until he was caught and arrested.
Although never charged, Las Vegas police have kept a watchful eye on Boom Boom, who some say is now working under an assumed name.
If he were smart, Bettman would lay down the law and make mascot behaviour a primary issue. At the very least, NHL arenas should hire extra security officers and arm them with tranquilizer guns. Anything less and the league is flirting with disaster.
The other night it was Harvey the Hound on the loose. Just think of the carnage if Toronto's Carleton the Bear were to go bad. amaki@globeandmail.ca