The following is an excerpt from an article that the Dojo wrote for Cigar Advisor Magazine…
What is it about a competitive sport that earns the distinction of being a “man’s game”? One that requires skill? Determination? Defiance in the face of pain? Certainly when a player pushes through a game on a broken foot, or refuses to miss a single shift with a freshly stitched face – this would be considered tough. But it isn’t just about the pain a man can endure; hockey is a game of fierce intensity, aggression, and respect. It’s the fastest game on earth, and its uniqueness is defined by the men that grind through every grueling shift, selfless men who play for the legacy of the sport. This is a man’s game.
As I watched the NFL playoffs this past season, I couldn’t help but notice a theme building, something that hadn’t seemed as obvious before. Flag after yellow flag, whistle after whistle, reviews, waiting, and more waiting. Eventually a successful play would formulate – a quick pass, a bone-crushing hit and, wait for it… more flags on the field. The ref announces to the roaring stadium that there had been “helmet to helmet contact” or that the receiver was “defenseless” and the defending team is charged 15 yards. Wait, seriously!? I thought I was watching a tough, even brutal, game. The announcers begin scrutinizing the play to the tiniest detail, explaining “These rules help keep the game safe,” obviously pandering to the league, sounding much more like, “I want to keep my job.” I couldn’t help but think, “This sport has been wimpified.”
As a man, I believe I feel an inherent desire for competition. And when I watch a manly sport, I want to see speed, aggression, big hits, intensity, and forgive me if I sound like a Neanderthal, but I may even want to see a little blood! (continue)