Nowadays, it seems that no body can provide a satisfactory answer to sports violence. The distinction between unacceptable hostility and a ’s normal rough-and-tumble (混战，扭打) is impossible to make, or so the argument runs. This position may appeal to our inclination for legalism, but the truth is most of us know quite well when an act of needless savagery (野性) has been committed, and sports are little different from countless other activities of life. The distinction is as obvious as that between a deliberately aimed blow and the arm flailing of an athlete losing his balance. When a player balls his hand into a fist, when he drives his helmet (头盔) into an unsuspecting opponent -- in short, when he crosses the boundary between playing hard and playing to hurt -- he can only intend an act of violence.
Admittedly, violent acts in sports are difficult to police. But here, too, we find reflected the conditions of everyday life. Ambiguities in the law, confusion at the scene, and the reluctance of witnesses cloud almost any routine assault (袭击) case. Such uncertainties, however, have not pred society from arresting people who strike their fellow citizens on the street.
Perhaps our troubles stem not from the s we play but rather from how we play them. The 1979 meeting between hockey stars from the Soviet Union and the National Hockey League provided a direct test of two approaches to sport -- the emphasis on skill, grace, and finesse (技巧) by the Russians and the stress on brutality and violence by the NHL. In a startling upset, the Russians embarrassed their rough-playing opponents and exploded a long-standing myth: That success in certain sports requires excessive violence.
Violence apologists cite two additional arguments. First, they say, sports always have been violent; today things are no different. But arguments in America’s Old West were settled on Main Street with six-guns, and early cave-dwellers chose their women with a club. Civilizing influences ended those practices; yet we are told sports violence should be tolerated. The second argument is that athletes accept risk as part of the , and, in the case of professionals, are paid handsomely to do so. But can anyone seriously argue that being an athlete should require the acceptance of unnecessary physical abuse And, exaggerated as it may seem, the pay of professional athletes presumably reflects their abilities, not a payment against injuries.
"Clearly we are in deep trouble," says confused former football player A1 De Rogatis. "But how and why has it gotten so bade\
What about the distinction between violent acts and non-violent ones in sports