What happened to Tavares?
On Thursday night, Leafs captain John Tavares suffered a concussion following a collision. Second by second, we look at how the hit played out,
Maple Leafs captain John Tavares took a pass from Jake Muzzin, a hit from Ben Chiarot and a knee to the head from Corey Perry in the first period of Thursday night’s Game 1 against the Montreal Canadiens. He lay motionless on the ice after the game-changing — perhaps life-altering — play that lasted no more than a few seconds. Tavares and concussion expert Charles Tator once collaborated on an instructional video for young hockey players. The message: Never hit from behind. But that’s not what happened here.
This was every bit a hockey play. Here’s how it played out,
The whistle blows
At the 9:31 mark, play stops. The referees often let play continue until the team of a downed player gets control of the puck. In this case, Montreal had the puck, but the on-ice officials saw Tavares in distress. The training and medical staff from both teams came to his aid.
Paul Ayotte, the Leafs’ head trainer, is the first to arrive, holding the player’s head still as he tries to readjust Tavares from the awkward way he is lying. Almost immediately, he calls for a stretcher. Paramedics are quick to the scene. Toronto’s medical director Dr. Noah Forman and Montreal’s Dr. David Mulder are escorted to the ice by players.
The Canadiens mostly retreat to their bench. Most Leafs were around the scene but at a respectful distance. Jason Spezza, however, was right in there with the medical folks, talking to Tavares.
“I was just trying to keep him calm,” said Spezza. “Scary moment. He wasn’t really responding to much that was going on, so I was just trying to keep him calm. I talked to him when I got home and he said that he picked up my voice and recognized it, so I think that’s why I just tried to keep talking him through it.”
The villain
Perry has played that role his entire career. His reputation precedes him as a player who walks the line between clean and dirty hits. Fans of some teams would convict him on sight, but there’s leeway on this play.
Even Nick Foligno, who fought Perry as payback on the ensuing faceoff to fulfil the NHL’s unwritten code of justice, didn’t think the hit was intentional.
Only Perry knows what his true intent was in the moment, though it happened so quickly it’s hard to imagine intent could even be formed. He looked aghast at what had transpired. He and Tavares are, after all, friends off the ice.
The gesture
When the stretcher carrying Tavares started to roll off the ice, Perry skated over to give Tavares a pat on the stomach, wishing him well.
“I felt sick to my stomach when I saw it and saw the way he was. It’s a scary situation,” Perry said. “He got hit, I was coming out of the zone, I was trying to jump over him and unfortunately I caught my knee on his head. I don’t know what else to do there. I tried to jump. It’s an unfortunate incident.
“I know Johnny pretty well. Just hope he’s OK.”
Before the stretcher is off the ice, Tavares is able to raise his hand and give a thumbs up, a message to teammates — plus family and friends watching on TV — that he is all right.
The messages
Tavares also called and texted teammates from the hospital, where he stayed overnight, to make sure they knew their captain was fine.
“John’s a good friend (and) everybody was very concerned,” Spezza said. “We’re happy to know that everything’s looking on the ups, but definitely it was a moment where your mind races a little bit. You think about his family. But just seeing your buddy on the ice like that is a scary moment.”
The recovery
The issue is the health of the brain. Protected by the cranium — and, in a hockey player’s case, a helmet — it’s still prone to violent jolts.
“The best way to think of it is, the consistency of the brain is like Jell-O,” said Dr. Charles Tator, Canada’s leading expert on concussions. “What happens is, it’s the jiggle of the brain that causes a concussion. With all the billions of nerve cells, and an even greater number of fibres that come off the nerve cells, those get jiggled.” And now they have to reset. Unlike a broken bone, with healing monitored by X-ray, or a heart attack, with the severity measured by a blood test, there is no medical measurement for a concussion’s severity or the patient’s recovery, said Tator.
“We only have the symptoms to go by, how John feels — if he has headaches, dizziness, nausea, sensitivity to light, sensitivity to sound. There are about 80 symptoms. We have to assess the symptoms to know whether he’s recovering, and to what extent recovery is happening.
“The good news is, recovery usually happens. That’s why we have to keep players out of action for a period of time to let the brain recover. If they go back too fast, and they get another blow before they fully recover, the damage is multiplied.
“We like people to wait out at least a week, but some people could take even a year to recover. He shouldn’t go back until he’s completely recovered, which means all the symptoms would have gone before he should play. He can start skating, but he should not be in game play until all the symptoms have gone away.”