Milan Lucic is escorted off the ice by linesman Michel Cormier after receiving a minor penalty in Thursday’s game against the Montreal Canadiens during NHL hockey action Thursday.Paul Chiasson/The Canadian Press
Know this: If you run into Boston Bruins forward Milan Lucic, odds are he'll reveal himself to be a funny, warm and personable fellow.
But good people sometimes make awful choices, and it becomes an occupational hazard when they are paid to be aggressive and borderline combustible.
Lucic made a surpassingly uncouth decision on Thursday, mimicking an auto-erotic gesture at heckling Bell Centre fans. He also threw in what looked like a hoist-the-Cup move, just because.
Now he is poorer for it, having been relieved of $5,000 by league headquarters.
You can punch a fellow professional in the mouth in the National Hockey League, you can trash-talk (at your peril) about his mom, and you might even get away with clouting him with your stick.
But making lewd and crude gestures at crowds? Well, that's just out of order.
Think of it as hockey's charming dichotomy. A league in which barely bridled emotion and appropriately focused violence are prized also demands a semblance of propriety and decorum.
There are strong reasons for this: The whole enterprise is rendered meaningless if the public stops paying to watch, so directing abuse at fans in any sport is a fast and reliable way to be punished.
"People are paying money to watch the games, they're entitled to get involved, that's what you want as a player . . . it is entertainment at the end of the day," said Habs defenceman P.K. Subban, a favourite target of opposing fans. "You want to stay focused on the ice. We're all guilty of [mixing it up with the crowd] in the past, but I try not get too involved. If I was to do that, there would be 29 other rinks where I'd be bickering with fans."
Lucic didn't comment on his fine Friday – the Bruins had a day off before they play in Buffalo on Saturday – and his peers didn't seem overly eager to wade in.
In an informal survey, several echoed a version of what Lucic's former linemate, Jarome Iginla, said: "I haven't seen it yet."
Clearly there aren't enough television sets or Internet hotspots in and around NHL dressing rooms and hotels.
Snark aside, the tantrum invites an interesting discussion. The NHL likes to cultivate rivalries – it's a key selling point for NBCSN, which carries games in the U.S. But rivalries are not necessarily easy to manage.
As Subban said, "there's always something when Boston and Montreal play each other."
Colorado Avalanche forward Max Talbot played on both sides of a fierce regional rivalry between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia, and he said the added the stress of rivalries means some games are more demanding than others.
"It's hard. You have to keep your composure, but it's a lot easier said than done," the 10-year veteran said. "These are pretty unique situations, 20,000 people in an arena who hate you, a million watching at home, a huge rivalry, big game, an opening game. There's no excuse for that kind of gesture, but it's extremely difficult to handle your emotions. Yes, we're professionals, and people will say it's our job to keep a lid on ourselves, and yes, you have to, but it's not always easy. These are stressful situations. Some people deal with pressure by making a mistake – they shoot the puck over the glass or turn it over. Some lose their cool."
Canadiens winger Pierre-Alexandre Parenteau has witnessed it first-hand.
As a member of the New York Islanders in 2010, Parenteau was on the ice when then-Isles defenceman James Wisniewski made an outré sexual gesture at New York Rangers pest Sean Avery. That earned Wisniewski an eight-game suspension.
"We're in the heat of the action, so it doesn't affect you as a player when you see stuff like that. But there's no room for it in our game – there are kids in the stands," Parenteau said. "It's a by-product of an emotional sport; some guys have more trouble than others containing themselves. I've played with a few crazies, especially in the minors. It's worse in the minors. Guys know there are fewer cameras. It's a lot more obscene."
In the laddish environment that is a hockey dressing room, bawdy humour (and accompanying gesticulations) is commonplace to the point of banality.
But as with anything, there is an appropriate time, place and audience for working blue. National television ain't it.
"Whatever guys do is a reflection of themselves and their organizations," Subban said. "Players are going to be held accountable for their actions, and you've got to know that."