Lauren James’ meagre violence a reminder that hot-blooded catharsis still has a role in sports

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It’s been a long time since I had a fistfight at work. Not encouraged any more. Actively frowned upon.

Came close once a few years ago with a deskmate. We shared a large expanse of table top, divided by a small partition. A disagreement over whose story went where on what day escalated very suddenly to cutting words. Maybe because it was a Monday.

Cutting words became shouting. Shouting became popping up out of our chairs in unison. Standing became finger jabbing. Jabbing became shrieking.

By then, our colleagues in the Sports Dept. were standing too, enjoying the matinee. Punching each other is an ancient tradition in journalism, and nowhere more so than in Sports.

But when we put our knees on our desks and began scrabbling over the partition to get at each other, a couple peers figured this had gone far enough. It wasn’t ugly or frightening. More rumpled and embarrassing.

The thing about it is that he and I were great friends. A couple of hours later, after being called into a manager’s office and ordered to shake hands, we resumed being great friends again. We never talked about it, thank God.

Traditions change. This sort of hot-blooded catharsis is no longer possible. Except in one remaining workplace – sports themselves.

When you see one player headbutt another, you don’t think, “HR is going to have a field day with that one.” You think, “Why can’t I do that?”

It isn’t a vicious impulse. The core attraction of sports violence is that it has no risk of escalation. The players aren’t going to run back to the locker rooms and return with shovels to beat each other into the hospital. It’ll be short, relatively controlled, soon over and – this is the crucial ingredient – after it’s done, everyone will be friends again.

That’s why violence is illegal in most sports, but broadly tolerated. Yes, baseball players ought not punch each other. But when they stage a riot – as the White Sox and Guardians did a couple of days ago – it is comedic rather than tragic.

Were you to see the same thing happen in the street, you’d be shaken. In the street, violence has no boundaries and violence without limits is terrifying. Within limits? Deeply alluring.

The big talker out of the just-completed round of 16 at the Women’s World Cup isn’t a score line, it’s an incident of mayhem.

England versus Nigeria. England was meant to win this match walking away. Like a lot of things everyone expected to happen at this tournament, it didn’t turn out that way. Late in a scoreless game, two players got tangled in the middle of the field.

One of them, England’s Lauren James, has been a revelation at the World Cup. Just 21 years old, an argument could be made that she is the tournament MVP.

As she tussled with Nigeria’s Michelle Alozie, Alozie fell. James tried to run on. Alozie turned herself into a speed bump. James tumbled over her. She popped up, looked at the referee and stuck her arms out, as if to say, ‘Are you getting this?’ The referee was not getting it.

James stood. Alozie was lying flat-out on her stomach. James put her cleats on Alozie’s bum, pressed down and ran on.

Was it a nice thing to do? No.

Was it the sort of thing you’d do at work? I don’t know. How often do you find yourself running neck-and-neck toward something alongside your office nemesis? Because if that’s never happened, it’s hard to compare.

Was it dangerous? In any way comparable with sliding in at speed and taking aim at someone’s ankles, which happens two or three times in every elite soccer match? No, and absolutely not.

But it is illegal. More to the point, it’s foolish.

James was given a yellow card on the spot. After review, that became a red card. The only reason this isn’t a bigger deal is that James’s team beat Nigeria on penalties.

For now, she will be spared the David Beckham treatment. England’s Greatest Living Hair-Do had a similar moment of silliness during a World Cup match in 98. While lying face down on the ground mid-match and feeling aggrieved, Beckham petulantly back-heeled an Argentinean. He was also ejected from the game.

There was nothing in the kick, but England went on to lose, again on penalties. Always on penalties for those guys. None of that was Beckham’s fault, but someone had to be blamed. A section of the English fan base never forgave him.

So James’s outburst brought up a lot of happy memories of a different time, back when a soccer player doing something stupid seemed like a story of global importance.

What’s important now is that James’s (meagre) violence spur a moment of conciliation. That is its purpose.

Alozie may have lost the physical round of the fight, but she won the psychological portion of proceedings by speaking first.

On social media, Alozie told people to “rest” – “this game is one of passion, insurmountable emotions, and moments. All respect for Lauren James.”

All James could do was respond in kind – “I am sorry for what happened.”

Alozie wins the encounter by decision because she comes out looking like the bigger person. James is still in peril. She’ll be suspended for England’s next game at a minimum. If the Lionesses lose, guess who’s the leading candidate to take the blame?

The real winner is the World Cup. All England had before this to draw interest was its play. Now it has got a whole morality tale at work. Will these bum-stomping villains be rewarded, or will they go down in the end?

You wouldn’t want it to be this way at every job. One can imagine how it might go badly at a butcher shop or a hairdresser’s.

But there is still room for one workplace where the occasional sneaky elbow can bring us all closer in the end.