PORTLAND – The way the job of penalty box attendant had been explained to me, it seemed almost like a glorified doorman.

You open the door when a player gets a penalty and is sent to the box. Then you open it again when it’s time for him to leave.

Additional Photos

Ray Routhier opens the door for Portland Pirate Jacob Lagace after he served a penalty during Wednesday's game against the Manchester Monarchs. Derek Davis/Staff Photographer

But not being a big hockey fan, I had overlooked the fact that hockey is a fearsomely physical, aggressive and emotional game played by extremely athletic young men. On skates.

This occurred to me only after Portland Pirates center Luke Adam came flying into the penalty box during last Wednesday’s game after being called for a hooking penalty. He jumped into the 5-foot-wide box with such force that I found myself pressed against the Plexiglas, trying desperately to stay out of his way.

Suddenly, the glass and everything in the box began to shake, because Adam was pounding the glass with his stick — a couple of feet from my head — and yelling at the officials. Needless to say, he was not happy with the call against him.

And he expressed his anger by repeatedly using certain words we can’t print here.

But before I could gather enough composure to run out of the box (which crossed my mind), Ted Aceto put a gentle arm on Adam and said calmly, “Easy, Luke — easy.”

Aceto, who has been the Pirates’ penalty box attendant for 10 years, said later he knew that Adam is “a good kid” who was simply upset by what he saw as an injustice.

Adam then sat in the box, though he continued to curse at no one in particular for a while before Aceto engaged him in conversation.

“That was a tough one, tough call out there,” said Aceto.

“The guy grabbed my stick,” Adam replied.

Within a few seconds, the Manchester Monarchs scored a power-play goal, so Adam was free.

“It’s such a physical, emotional game that sometimes it’s just hard to control the emotions,” said Aceto, 55, who has worked for the Pirates for 17 years. “But they’re all good kids.”

OFFICIALLY, ‘OFF-ICE OFFICIALS’

Aceto is one of the crew members known officially as “off-ice officials” employed by the Pirates on behalf of the American Hockey League.

Besides penalty box attendants, the off-ice jobs include goal judge, penalty timekeeper, timekeeper, statistician and official scorer. The penalty box attendants and goal judges often rotate jobs with each other.

Hockey is a fast-paced game, and I found that a lot of Aceto’s job hinges on his ability to help keep things moving. So he had me open the door as soon as a penalty on a Pirate was called. (There is another box for opponents.)

It was a good thing he did, because I tried pulling the door open before lifting the latch, and it took me a few seconds to get it open for our first visitor of the night, Pirates winger Jacob Lagace. Lagace was not as upset as Adam had been. He spent much of this time spitting onto the penalty box floor in front of him.

Aceto had warned me that things might not be exactly squeaky clean in the box. There was also a bloody towel that had to be disposed of at some point (not sure which player was bleeding), and Aceto picked it up gingerly with his finger and thumb.

Once we had a player in the box with us, Aceto had me write down some crucial information on a sheet of paper: the player’s number, penalty, time he came off the ice, and the time he was scheduled to be back on the ice.

This is important, because players can come back onto the ice during play, bringing their teams back up to full strength. So they and their coaches want them let out as soon as possible.

In the third period, we had new Pirates forward Kyle Ostrow serving four minutes for high sticking. (He drew blood, so his penalty was longer.)

Aceto told me to watch the clock when it got down toward the end of his time, so I began watching it so intensely I forgot to watch for pucks that were hit into the stands. Part of Aceto’s job is to watch for pucks out of play, fish a new one out of the cooler full of ice where they are kept, and flip one over the glass to the official as he skates by.

So while I was watching the clock, Aceto called to me, “new puck.” By the time I had grabbed one and turned toward the ice, linesman Joe Ross had already skated over. I flipped the puck over the glass a little short, but Ross stretched out and caught it.

Earlier in the game, I was afraid to flip the pucks, and I actually opened the door and handed them to Ross. At one point, he said, “It’s not that hard. It’s all in the arc.” So I took his advice and tried soft-tossing the pucks over the glass with a gentle arc.

My first attempt hit the glass and clanked back on my foot. My second attempt was overhand; I sort of shot-putted it over the glass.

But by the third period, I was getting pretty good. In fact, at one point, one official dropped a nearly perfect toss from me, which caused the other off-ice officials nearby to chime in with “his bad” and “not your fault.”

So there.

A NUMBERS GAME

While Ostrow was in the box, Aceto began chatting with him, asking him how he liked Portland so far. Ostrow said he joined the team on the road, so tonight was really his first night in Portland. But he liked it so far — penalty aside.

Aceto told me that when there were only 15 seconds left on Ostrow’s penalty, I should look at him and announce loudly, “15 seconds.” Then, at 10 seconds, I began a NASA-like countdown — 10, 9, 8, etc.

Before the game, Aceto had given me very explicit instructions to open the door a crack at 2 seconds, with my hand in front of it and my foot in back of it, to prevent a speeding player from knocking the door into my face. Then I was to open the door wide at the crack of zero.

I followed his orders to the best of my ability, but my nerves got the best of me and I fear I opened up about half a second early.

Another tricky situation came up when Pirates center Paul Byron came into the box on a five-minute penalty for fighting. His fighting partner was Manchester’s Justin Johnson, known in the game as an “enforcer” — or, in layman’s terms, a guy who is there mostly to fight.

Johnson looks like a pro wrestler, while Byron could pass for a high school freshman, and the two sat in penalty boxes just feet away from each other. Johnson continued to goad Byron, who responded with, “You think you’re so (expletive) tough!” And a few other choice words that, again, we can’t print here.

The tricky part came when it was time to let Byron out. At 2:46 left in the period, he was supposed to come out at the next whistle or stop in play. But that whistle didn’t come until Johnson’s penalty had expired as well. So they were due out at the same time.

“We can’t let them out at the same time, or they might go right back at it,” Aceto said.

So he motioned Ray Doherty, the attendant in the other box, to hold Johnson for a short time after Bryon came out.

He did. Conflict averted.

Until next time.

Which could be soon: The playoffs start at 7 p.m. Thursday at the civic center.

Staff Writer Ray Routhier can be contacted at 791-6454 or at:

rrouthier@pressherald.com

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