Rabbit Punches in Hockey: What Needs to Change

June 7th, 2024

Zach Mason

The date is October 17th, 2015, in the EagleBank Arena, situated on the campus of George Mason University. Returning to the dressing room, after the first loss of his professional career, is 154 lb boxing prospect Prichard Colón, walking with some assistance from his mother, and appearing incoherent and dizzy. In the bout just gone, Colon’s opponent, Terrel Williams, had repeatedly ‘rabbit-punched’ (struck on the back of the head, around the base of the skull) the Puerto Rican. Despite appeals, the ref stood idly by, even passing it off as a problem of Colón’s own despite it being a flagrant disregard for the Marquess of Queensbury ruleset. Shortly afterwards, Colon was rushed to hospital due to brain swelling, and placed into a coma, suffering brain injuries he has not yet fully recovered from, nearly ten years on from the ill-fated bout. 

While this may seem an odd aside at first, it does raise an uncomfortable topic of discussion for the NHL. Each time a pair of Matt Rempe-esque tough guys drop the gloves and ‘give the fans a show’, where is the limit? How much damage do we expect them to take, a couple of shiners across a career or a life altering amount of brain damage from (at best unintentional) ill-placed strikes?  Unlike every other major team sport on earth, hockey is tolerant of fighting; instead of a multi-game ban for both parties and a fine that would be eye-watering to the commoner sitting in the stands, both parties involved in the dust-up get sent to the naughty bin for 5 minutes and are expected to regain their composure. 

With that being stated, the question has to be asked, is the NHL doing enough to discourage rabbit punches in fights, and should they be doing anything to begin with? I’d argue no, as there is no punishment for rabbit punching specifically in the NHL rulebook (?) despite it being arguably the most dangerous place to be struck anywhere on the human body, as any strike in that area can cause irreparable nervous system and/or brain damage. This may seem to be an odd hill to die on in a sport as physical and dangerous as hockey, but if the rulebook is there to allow the best players to remain on the ice, it seems an odd oversight to not extend that to a part of the sport's most eye-catching feature, the fights. If fighters in boxing, like the aforementioned Terrel Williams, can become ostracized for such an act, why is nothing like that occurring to people like Tom Wilson in hockey?

While it’s easy to complain for days on end, not offering to be part of the solution. The simplest solution is to eject a player for an intentional rabbit punch, with the definition of intentional somewhere along the lines of a strike clearly aimed at the back of the opposing player's head. This definition should allow a period of grace for the awkward grey area of a player ducking their head underneath an arriving punch, similar to rulings in combat sports, where the action is of a much higher pace. For repeat offenders, there should be a clear progression based around ‘strikes’ perhaps first beginning with a fine and then escalating to suspensions if a player has established a reputation for rabbit punching in fights (eg. Tom Wilson). If a player has been deemed to intentionally have struck another player on the back of the head, there should be a similar scale to the high-sticking penalty; say a minor penalty for a simple strike, a double minor for one with a clear effect (loss of balance, bench visit, etc.), scaling up to a misconduct penalty for clear punches to the back of the head with a lasting effect (the player being sent to the locker room, not to return for the game), with the strike system to be used following the game.

In conclusion, for a league that should be valuing the safety of its players, the men who put behinds in seats and eyeballs on the televisions, it seems a glaring oversight to have no rules on a strike to the back of the head, especially in situations where there is a clear gap in physicality & experience fighting (think an enforcer facing off with a tricky, creative centre). The league would do well to learn from stories like Prichard Colon’s before it's too late.