Matt Menta
Fisticuffs
I was laying face down on the ice in the goalie’s crease. My helmet was almost off my head and snow was all over the front of my uniform. I felt a punch hit the back of my helmet and my face almost hits the ice from the impact. I felt a weight lift off my back. It was a body getting off of me. I jumped up to my skates like a shot out of a cannon. I turned around and looked at the Michigan Warriors player who had cheap shotted me, and punched me in the back of the head. He was skating over towards me fast with anger in his face, hate in his heart, and his fist clenched with his gloves off. It was then that I made one of the quickest and major decisions in my life. I quickly dropped my stick and shed my gloves as fast as possible to initiate our fight. I had to stand up for myself and my teammates.
It was the second period. My line mate Mike Sabatini had the puck near our bench. We were at our home rink Pullar Stadium and we were attacking the Michigan Warriors net. It was a two on two rush with a man back checking on me. He was so close I could feel him breathing down my neck. Sabby threw an airborne pass from the top of the right circle that landed back on the ice right before it reached my stick. When I received the pass I was almost right on top of the goalie in front of the net. The goalie saved the puck, but as he saved it I got hit from behind by the back checking player into the goalie. We all fell into the net.
I never have been an aggressive person who looks to start fights. I also wasn't the kind of tough guy that could say I finished them. I had never gotten in a fight outside of hockey before, and this was about to be my first junior hockey fight. I didn't know how I would do against this kid. After I had gotten up I knew that I was going to have to fight. I was a first line playmaker so fighting wasn't my specialty. I left that part to the fourth line guys. I was more of a get the puck and find my open teammate for an easy goal player. There comes a time in some level of the game when you get challenged by someone to fight, and you cant shy away from it. First line or fourth you fight for your brothers you share the uniform with. My rage and anger had taken over. I had to do this.
I had an oh shit moment when I found out who I was going to be fighting. I realized that it was Connor Lyons one of Michigan’s enforcers. He had been playing chippy all game. The kid was an experienced fighter from Davisburg, Michigan although he stood at 5’9” like myself, he was a thick, strong, and gritty kid. Most hockey players would call him nails because he was so tough.
When he skated at me I grabbed his jersey and shoulder pads with my left hand. I knew I couldn't get hit with a big right hand to the face if I tied his arm up. We were spinning around in circles trying to get our balance. During that time I felt something brush against my face. It wasn't a fist, maybe his left forearm or shoulder. We had started the fight at the front of the net, and when we had gotten our balance we were near the right corner of the rink at the bottom of the right circle. He had thrown a punch that was off target. I saw the fist go by my face. His first attempt had barely missed. I watched him cock his right arm back and another punch quickly followed. As I saw the punch coming in towards my face I pushed my left hand that had been grabbing his jersey and shoulder pad towards him. This made it so his right hand couldn't reach my face. I realized that I hadn't thrown any punches. I wanted to pick my spots, but more importantly not get hit. I threw a punch to his left eye that knocked his helmet off and reddened his eye. I had frustrated him because another two punches quickly came my way.
As he threw his punches one by one I ducked my head and looked down towards the ice. He hadn't taken my helmet off so both of his punches hit the top of my helmet. I had escaped his attacks for the moment. I then threw another punch that landed very close to the same spot near his left eye. Connor was mad he had punched my helmet twice so he ripped my helmet off, but at this point in the fight we were both very tired. We were both hanging on to each other. Our fighting stance mirrored each others. My left hand was grabbing his right shoulder and his left was grabbing my right. I looked at the linesmen during the fight to see if they would step in and stop the fight. The one hollered out.
“Are you boys done?”
I looked back at Connor Lyons who was red in the face and slightly black and blue in his left eye. He had shook his head no at the linesmen.
I tried to throw an upper cut to end the fight, but somehow during the fight my left hand had caught the strap of his helmet and his helmet was stuck in-between my hand and his jersey. My upper cut had hit his helmet and it blocked my punch. The next thing I remember is getting pulled down to the ice by my jersey, then both of the linesmen had jumped in and separated us. As we skated to the penalty box I looked over at my bench and all of my teammates were standing up tapping their sticks against the boards. I heard someone yell.
“Fuckin' right’s Menta!”
When I got to the penalty box I was greeted by fans clapping and cheering for me.
After the period was over we walked down the tunnel towards our locker room when I was stopped by Coach Bruno. He grabbed me by the arm and said.
“Way to pump that fucker, Matty.”
Patted my arm twice.
Then walked away.
I had a sigh of relief I thought I was going to get yelled at. I then knew that I had made the right decision. There was a whole period left to be played, 15 minutes to break the 2-2 tied game. The fight had given us a momentum boost. I think that momentum is what carried us to win the game. If I didn't fight then maybe we end up losing 3-2 instead of winging 3-2. After the game I threw in a chew and got undressed while listening to our teams victory song “Timber” by Pitbull and Kesha.
After I had showered and put my black suit, with my blue dress shirt, and black, blue, and grey paisley tie on I was ready to leave the locker room. On my way out of the locker room I was congratulated and thanked by the few guys that remained. They were still changing into their suits. They let me know that my uncharacteristic but still productive play for the night was appreciated.
Fisticuffs
I was laying face down on the ice in the goalie’s crease. My helmet was almost off my head and snow was all over the front of my uniform. I felt a punch hit the back of my helmet and my face almost hits the ice from the impact. I felt a weight lift off my back. It was a body getting off of me. I jumped up to my skates like a shot out of a cannon. I turned around and looked at the Michigan Warriors player who had cheap shotted me, and punched me in the back of the head. He was skating over towards me fast with anger in his face, hate in his heart, and his fist clenched with his gloves off. It was then that I made one of the quickest and major decisions in my life. I quickly dropped my stick and shed my gloves as fast as possible to initiate our fight. I had to stand up for myself and my teammates.
It was the second period. My line mate Mike Sabatini had the puck near our bench. We were at our home rink Pullar Stadium and we were attacking the Michigan Warriors net. It was a two on two rush with a man back checking on me. He was so close I could feel him breathing down my neck. Sabby threw an airborne pass from the top of the right circle that landed back on the ice right before it reached my stick. When I received the pass I was almost right on top of the goalie in front of the net. The goalie saved the puck, but as he saved it I got hit from behind by the back checking player into the goalie. We all fell into the net.
I never have been an aggressive person who looks to start fights. I also wasn't the kind of tough guy that could say I finished them. I had never gotten in a fight outside of hockey before, and this was about to be my first junior hockey fight. I didn't know how I would do against this kid. After I had gotten up I knew that I was going to have to fight. I was a first line playmaker so fighting wasn't my specialty. I left that part to the fourth line guys. I was more of a get the puck and find my open teammate for an easy goal player. There comes a time in some level of the game when you get challenged by someone to fight, and you cant shy away from it. First line or fourth you fight for your brothers you share the uniform with. My rage and anger had taken over. I had to do this.
I had an oh shit moment when I found out who I was going to be fighting. I realized that it was Connor Lyons one of Michigan’s enforcers. He had been playing chippy all game. The kid was an experienced fighter from Davisburg, Michigan although he stood at 5’9” like myself, he was a thick, strong, and gritty kid. Most hockey players would call him nails because he was so tough.
When he skated at me I grabbed his jersey and shoulder pads with my left hand. I knew I couldn't get hit with a big right hand to the face if I tied his arm up. We were spinning around in circles trying to get our balance. During that time I felt something brush against my face. It wasn't a fist, maybe his left forearm or shoulder. We had started the fight at the front of the net, and when we had gotten our balance we were near the right corner of the rink at the bottom of the right circle. He had thrown a punch that was off target. I saw the fist go by my face. His first attempt had barely missed. I watched him cock his right arm back and another punch quickly followed. As I saw the punch coming in towards my face I pushed my left hand that had been grabbing his jersey and shoulder pad towards him. This made it so his right hand couldn't reach my face. I realized that I hadn't thrown any punches. I wanted to pick my spots, but more importantly not get hit. I threw a punch to his left eye that knocked his helmet off and reddened his eye. I had frustrated him because another two punches quickly came my way.
As he threw his punches one by one I ducked my head and looked down towards the ice. He hadn't taken my helmet off so both of his punches hit the top of my helmet. I had escaped his attacks for the moment. I then threw another punch that landed very close to the same spot near his left eye. Connor was mad he had punched my helmet twice so he ripped my helmet off, but at this point in the fight we were both very tired. We were both hanging on to each other. Our fighting stance mirrored each others. My left hand was grabbing his right shoulder and his left was grabbing my right. I looked at the linesmen during the fight to see if they would step in and stop the fight. The one hollered out.
“Are you boys done?”
I looked back at Connor Lyons who was red in the face and slightly black and blue in his left eye. He had shook his head no at the linesmen.
I tried to throw an upper cut to end the fight, but somehow during the fight my left hand had caught the strap of his helmet and his helmet was stuck in-between my hand and his jersey. My upper cut had hit his helmet and it blocked my punch. The next thing I remember is getting pulled down to the ice by my jersey, then both of the linesmen had jumped in and separated us. As we skated to the penalty box I looked over at my bench and all of my teammates were standing up tapping their sticks against the boards. I heard someone yell.
“Fuckin' right’s Menta!”
When I got to the penalty box I was greeted by fans clapping and cheering for me.
After the period was over we walked down the tunnel towards our locker room when I was stopped by Coach Bruno. He grabbed me by the arm and said.
“Way to pump that fucker, Matty.”
Patted my arm twice.
Then walked away.
I had a sigh of relief I thought I was going to get yelled at. I then knew that I had made the right decision. There was a whole period left to be played, 15 minutes to break the 2-2 tied game. The fight had given us a momentum boost. I think that momentum is what carried us to win the game. If I didn't fight then maybe we end up losing 3-2 instead of winging 3-2. After the game I threw in a chew and got undressed while listening to our teams victory song “Timber” by Pitbull and Kesha.
After I had showered and put my black suit, with my blue dress shirt, and black, blue, and grey paisley tie on I was ready to leave the locker room. On my way out of the locker room I was congratulated and thanked by the few guys that remained. They were still changing into their suits. They let me know that my uncharacteristic but still productive play for the night was appreciated.