I love to watch hockey. I love the sounds. I love the speed. I love that fact that anything can happen at any time. Seriously, no other sport demands such a wide-range of physical, mental, and emotional involvement from its players, coaches, and fans. Not football. Not basketball. Not baseball. Certainly not golf.
Hockey is simply awesome!
"What about the fighting?" you ask.
Okay, so there's a downside.
“Downside?" you counter. "No. No. No. Fighting's not a downside. I love the fighting. Without that, hockey's just a game.”
Excuse me while I slap your forehead.
To be honest, the game is a fight just waiting to happen. Ten guys with sticks chasing a hard rubber disc around a sheet of ice, attempting to slam, cram, jam, or doink it past a heavily padded guard who looks like the Hulk with a thyroid condition ... Well, that is just a recipe for fisticuffs. If the game didn't deteriorate into a brawl, there would be a bright star shining in the East and the heavy odor of frankincense, myrrh and stable dooty hanging in the arena.
But that's incidental, not the heart of the game of hockey, despite what too many players, teams, coaches, owners, and fans would have you believe. Too often nifty stick-handling, impenetrable goalkeeping, and a powerful slapshot take a backseat to the crashing, pounding, and wicked left hook of the enforcer/intimidator/GOON who can guarantee a game will descend into chaos.
Why? According to the sports pundits, “The fans love it!”
To which I reply, "Oh, please! Once in awhile maybe, but not all the time. Not every *$%@-ing game!"
You know what? If you were to peruse ProHockey-fans.com's list of top 10 hockey goons (Top Ten NHL Goons of All Time), you would notice that nobody other than Gordie Howe approaches the fan loyalty of that has been lavished on the Mario Lemieuxes, the Bobby Orrs, or the Wayne Gretzkys of NHL lore.
No, the players that make a difference are those who can skate, the ones who can pass, and the ones who can shoot. The ones who can fight have an effect, to be sure, but not always positive.
So it's analogy time: Just as physical "play" can wake up a slumbering crowd, fictional violence can stir your plot. However, the characters that make a difference to your reader are the ones with brains, creativity, and sometimes just plain luck to escape or triumph over whatever adversity besets them.
In addition, if every chapter is a gunfight, a deluge of razor sharp steel and shattered glass from exploding car bombs, or a wild chase involving cars, trains, hovercraft, and a rabid armadillo named Ralph, you will tire your audience quicker than thought of Ashton Kutcher reciting the periodic table to the accompaniment of a kazoo rendition of "99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall."
Here's the major tip for the day: Instead of allowing violence to overwhelm your reader, use the threat of violence to entice them.
One of my favorite novels ever, The Count of Monte Cristo, is an excellent example of how to do this. Alexandre Dumas could have had his protagonist Edmond Dantes exact his revenge on the people who betrayed him with flashing swordplay, well-orchestrated gunfights, and a well-placed rock upside the cranium as the movie version does. He could have, but he didn't.
Instead, Dantes honors the pledge he made to a benefactor that he would never spill blood. All through the book, he has the opportunity and the reader wants him to. Still, he never commits violence himself. Rather than descend to their level, he becomes a psychological jiujitsu master, turning their own wickedness against them.
The resolution of each subplot then becomes a triumph of intelligence, manipulation, and sheer will, all the more satisfying because Dantes could easily have overpowered his persecutors purely with physical force, but he didn't. Throughout the novel, the reader is mesmerized by his ability to avoid the violence they would love him to use.
When the last vengeful act takes place, the reader can easily excuse the sappy ending and the lack of bloodshed that takes place. Dantes' victory against wealth, power, and his own demons is far more memorable and satisfying than any amount of death and destruction could provide.
Therefore, remember: Your characters need not be Olympian. They need not bring down countries with a nuclear blast. They do not need to be thuggish goons! The fact that they could be and aren't will create greater conflict and tension, as well as a more satisfying resolution.
Hmmm ...
A satisfying resolution ...
Like if the Minnesota Wild score a winning goal on a last-second penalty shot caused by ... somebody else's chief enforcer in the seventh game of the Stanley Cup finals. That would be sweet!
There you go!
Use fictional violence to your advantage. Hockey-ify your stories in the best way possible. Make them sweet!
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