On Frozen Blog

I write today in praise of a Penguin. It’s true. Penguins’ right wing Ryan Malone redefined courage in these just completed Stanley Cup Finals – even by hockey’s heightened standards of beaten up bravado. He had his nose already broken and swollen before he absorbed a further face-disfiguring trauma to it via a slapshot from the point while standing in the crease in front of Chris Osgood in game 5. You may have heard NBC’s Mike Emerick acknowledge that Malone “had his face rebuilt yesterday.”
Malone actually returned to Monday night’s game 5 after receiving medical treatment. God knows how.
Doc wasn’t speaking colloquially to his television audience, either. Years back in the NHL playoffs the Stars’ Mike Modano had his nose obliterated much like Malone, and like Malone, had to have it rebuilt. Dallas’ medical and training staff used cork to try and stabilize all the shattered bone in Modano’s face. Like Malone, Modano returned to action, missing only a few shifts. Malone may or may not have had a similar remedy this week, but NBC cameras were rather generous in illustrating his plight between shifts. It appeared as if he had blood-absorbing sponge-gauze and or some stabilizing foam pad tucked within his nostrils. The principal challenge for hockey players in such circumstances is getting air through their nostrils during and immediately after their shifts – executing fundamental respiration.
Those of us suffering from seasonal allergies know how tough nostril breathing can be on days of high pollen counts. Imagine if you were trying to chase Henrik Zetterberg down with a collapsed nasal cavity and clumps of dried blood clotting what little air passages remained!
And it isn’t just during elite athletic competition that dire discomfort sets it. A nose fractured far less seriously than was Malone’s is a serious impediment to nighttime rest. It isn’t just blocked air passages that thwart deep sleep – traditional tossing and turning that bring the damaged area into contact with even the softest pillows occasion nightmare-like screams. Ryan Malone’s suffering the last week off the ice likely was almost equal to that of his shifts on it.
Most remarkable about Malone’s perseverance through pain was his shieldless-ness in Game 6. He skated the entire game with his badly damaged face fully exposed. If you think that the Red Wings accorded Malone some softened deference in their checking of him out of consideration of his condition, you don’t know hockey very well.
You have to imagine that the Penguins’ medical staff urged Malone to don a protective visor. But in the case of a half shield, those easily and commonly get pushed back into players’ faces during corner and crease scrums, which wouldn’t have been a real pleasant experience for Malone. The full shields fog up in winter rinks, and given the conditions in the Igloo Wednesday night, Malone may have judged that more an impediment than aid. Whatever his thinking, he sure skated with remarkable bravery and guts.
It’s also true that on some level he could even have been risking his life. A nose can get bashed in so badly that it causes death. You don’t want bone fragments piercing the brain, for instance. I’m no karate expert, but I believe there is a black belt move made with a partially closed fist — the purpose of which is to deliver a blow to a specific area of the nose that sends bone fragments into the brain, immediately killing the opponent.
Malone’s bravery and determination during the Stanley Cup Finals showcased anew hockey’s unrivaled ethos of courage and guts. Other pro sports of course have their instances of unbelievable acts of playing through pain. The Los Angeles Rams’ linebacker Jack Youngblood played a postseason on a broken leg. One of my favorite stories of an athlete persevering through pain is San Francisco 49ers’ safety Ronnie Lott choosing to have the tip of a badly mangled finger amputated at halftime rather than miss the rest of the game. Imagine!
Still, I don’t know of another sport whose athletes so commonly and selflessly ignore injury trauma with the legacy of hockey. Ryan Malone is the latest in that legacy.