The Vancouver Canucks’ Todd Bertuzzi dropped the ball, or, more accurately, the puck, last week when he-in a now infamous incident-pummelled an unsuspecting Steve Moore of the Colorado Avalanche from behind. The incident has received severe criticism from numerous corners, including Prime Minister Paul Martin, the Vancouver police, NHL players and commentators, fans, and the league.

But Bertuzzi finds himself in a rather delicate position. After a teary-eyed conference/apology session March 10, the NHL handed down a suspension-that was widely criticized and applauded-which requires him to sit out the remainder of the season, including playoffs. Although Bertuzzi’s presence will be sorely missed by the play-off contending Canucks, Bertuzzi’s punishment hardly seems adequate in light of the incident.

Although Moore is expected to have not received any permanent or long-term side effects in conjunction with his fractured neck, he could have. After pummelling Moore, Bertuzzi drove his skull into the ice to finish the damage. This, not exactly your average hockey fare, demands not your average hockey punishment.

But Bertuzzi, in many senses, was not handed a “definite” sentence: he was not instructed to sit out 10 games or 40 games, but the remainder of a season that might extend into the playoffs. Bertuzzi could be absent 12 games or 20, and could in all iikelihood be back on the ice for the start of the next season.

Also, it is hard to blame Bertuzzi for his lapse in judgment. Certainly he overstepped the boundary between good, rough hockey and berserko psycopathy, but Bertuzzi was, all the while, fulfilling what the fans wanted-until he put Moore, literally and figuratively, on ice.

Hockey is a rough sport: fans like hitting, they like rough play in front of the net, and they like to see the occasional boxing match that pits player against player over one season or over entire careers. There is a continual demand for this sort of “controlled” violence that is often implicitly condoned or sanctioned by the league. But when Bertuzzi crossed that line, he went from the ideal player-all-star, goal-scoring, get tough ol’ Canadian boy-to the embarrassment of the entire league.

“The Bertuzzi Incident,” however, is an anomaly in today’s hockey. Rarely, since the 70s, have players gone “too far.” The idea that hockey should clean up its act, or that Bertuzzi should have his hands amputated, suggests less a problem with the league and more of a problem in demand and representation. The fans demand violence, and the NHL-a rather clean league in most respects- is now being represented as a haven for premeditated goonery and near-death brawls.

Bertuzzi should be punished for his actions, but he, and the league, should not be internationally censured for the thirty seconds when everything went wrong. The Bertuzzi saga has cast an evil pallor on the entire game of hockey, sentencing the league to condemnation before establishing adequate precedence. This sucker punch was not a common occurrence but a rallying point for the common cry of “too much violence in the league.” All in all, this tragedy will only box a good, clean sport into a narrow context characterized by poor judgment, conflated importance, and misrepresentation.