Aspergers and the Rink Revisited-Beat Down Epiphany

A week ago after another nothing hockey game Primus was on his way off the ice. The game had been chippy. Geez the boy’s team has averaged less than a goal a game, well less than a goal every three games in reality and the scores are usually double digits to zip. Frustration was high on the team. Eventually this was going to boil over.

As I understand one of the 15-18 year olds (I don’t know which team) called another of these testosterone driven boy-men a “homo”. A player on our team also offered up the “finger” during the end of the game handshakes. Then a punch flew. Within seconds the ice surface was a donnybrook. I was at the gate letting players off the ice when all hell broke loose between the boards. Players were in clumps of twos and threes all wailing on each other and engaging in pro wrestling moves picked up off SyFy network. I swear to God I saw the camel clutch come out of retirement. (And yes I know what the camel clutch looked like I represented the Sheik years ago).

Until helmets and gloves come off a hockey fight does not pose that much relative risk for injury in a normal youth game. The greatest risk comes if you end up on the ice and parts of your arm and leg get exposed to errant sword-like skates thrashing about.

My problem was that from the gate I could not see Primus. Eventually one of the other dads, a team representative holding a coaching card pulled Primus off and led him to the door where I was standing. At that point the whole of each team was trickling off the ice. I ordered Primus whose helmet was half off and who seemed to be nursing a whack to the solar plexus region over to our locker room door.

Between one of the team mothers and me we used our outdoor scary crazed adult voices and sent the players into each of their respective locker rooms. It was tense and it was daunting because some of these kids still wanted to go at it. On skates these kids were way bigger than we are but with the right tone of psycho in your voice you can make almost anyone cowl and cower.

After the kids were in the locker room the coach came out to find me to tell me my son had been suspended for two games for fighting. I was a little pissed because the buzz I had gotten from people who had seen the fight was that he had not started the fight he just responded in self defense. Of course I was talking to parents from our team.

It became clear when the names of the others on our team and the numbers of the players on the other team were know the refs had simply done what refs are wont to do, suspend the big guys. Six players on each team got two game misconducts. Our goalie deserved it and so did one of their players whose number I heard mentioned. However there were a number of other names and numbers I had seen involved that got nothing in the way of penalties they much deserved. Once you are like Primus six foot one inch tall and 200 plus pounds you get tagged for whatever crap happens near you on the ice.

As a father of a child with ASD this situation gave me fear because of one thing, his lack of proportionality. When an aspie gets hit and harassed his tolerance level is way high. Primus with his version of ASD puts up with it, puts up with it, puts up with it and then he blows. I know Primus’s tolerance level is far higher than mine but I also know that when he goes he goes all in. Apparently from the coaches it wasn’t that way this time. Primus and the other kid had each other in a headlock and were just trading shots but it never got close to totally nuclear.

When I finally had the chance to talk to Primus I began my commentary with the phrase “I am not proud of you but neither am I angry with you. Fights happened in hockey. What happened?” What came next was, as all things are in these situations, so filled with mixed messages and emotions that it was hard to respond with anything other than an “I see”.

According to Primus as he was coming off the ice the melee commenced behind him. He words, “Dad, I looked behind and saw one of my team mates getting a beat down. I couldn’t ignore that.” Holy shit Batman, my kid-the universe until himself-made a choice based on what was happening to another person and came to that person’s aid. As a Dad I view this response as a huge, really, really huge milestone in personal development. He didn’t know who it was but it was “his team mate” and he wasn’t going to let that beat down happen.

Sitting stunned I mulled over what to say next. Eventually I offered this. “Primus, you have Aspergers, you know that. You also know that you have trouble stopping your anger once it boils over. Right?” Nodded agreement happens here. Me continuing, “You always have to think about consequences. In this case you got involved in a fight not of your own making, most likely started by someone on your team that you don’t even like or care about. You put yourself at risk and it cost you. There are six games left this season and you have thrown away a 1/3 rd of them. Does that sound like the best and most rational course?” A head shakes no.

As I continued I told him that it was okay to use his size, to make clean but board rattling checks and to defend himself if someone was acting with a real intent to injure him. But I also told him if you get into a fight in this day and age being who you are you have already lost. Then I ran down the list of good plays I had seen during the game that day and told him that I was proud of him for who he is. Period.

All I can say is that the feelings I get from this are truly conflicted. I see the danger but I see the growth.

Several nights later when he and his fellow suspended team mate stood at the glass watching their team play without them, they talked nonstop for the entire game. This is a child that three years ago wouldn’t say hello to a next door neighbor he had known his entire life if he saw them outside in their yard. Killing time at the rink today he talked in extended conversations with three or four team mates. Wow.

This is one suckfest of a season if you measure in wins (if only there was one) and losses. But if you measure it in Primus’s building bridges to a world outside himself it is pretty darn awesome.