On the videotape, Jeff Worlton is beating the crud out of a guy. The two are hockey players. They're doing that peculiar punch-dance that comes with men sliding on ice, trying to arrange some leverage for the haymakers they're throwing at each other.

Trying to box on ice is like trying to skate in the ring. Lots of grabbing, holding and ...

"Whoa!" Worlton says. "That was a good one!"

Worlton watches himself break free from the grab of Mike Cirillo, a member of the opposing Arkansas Riverblades, long enough to slam a Tyson-esque right hand straight into the left side of Cirillo's head.

Says Worlton's coach now, the Cyclones' Chris Cichocki, "Jeff hates tying up. A guy who's grabbing you is in fear of you. Guys who sit back and throw 'em, those are the title contenders."

"I like my right a lot," Worlton says.

The tape he's watching is a copy of one he sent to every team in the East Coast Hockey League last offseason.. His old team, the Louisiana IceGators (the more obscure the league, the more ridiculous the name) made a team fight tape. Worlton's parents got a copy of it and spliced a tape of their own. It was all Jeff's fights. His Greatest Hits. So to speak. It runs eight minutes.

"My number one thing I can bring to a team is my fighting skill," Worlton, 24, says. "Anything else is a plus."

This might not be an image hockey would like to project. NASCAR doesn't want to be known for wrecks, either. On the other hand, a man's gotta know his limitations. Clint Eastwood - well-known cowboy goon - said that. And, as Cichocki says, "Part of me thinks" it's over the top. "But another side of me says, this is entertaining. It's like a car accident. Nobody wants to look. But they look."

At 6-3, 224 pounds, Worlton isn't a hockey defenseman because he skates like Kristi Yamaguchi. He rearranges jawlines, and he's good at it. He fought twice in the Cyclones' first three games. The last line on the resume Worlton sent to Cichocki sums it up: "Latest Stats: 58 Games, 0 goals, 1 assist, 302 penalty minutes, 26 fighting majors."

When your player pops his player, he finds you and makes dental history. It can be a hard life. But it isn't a hard concept. "If the guy doesn't want to fight, Jeff will agitate until he does," Cichocki explains.

"I'm a police officer, basically," Worlton says. "I've got a big, hard head."

Does it hurt?

"At the time, you really don't feel it," Worlton says. "You're really into your work. Afterward, you rub your head."

Hockey? There is hockey going on out there, somewhere in the distance. It's not Worlton's concern.

Against Peoria Friday night, Worlton knew his opposite number was a Golden Gloves boxer as a kid. While his mates asked questions about Peoria's goalie - where is he weak, high or low? - Worlton asked about the erstwhile Golden Glover: "What does he throw? Is he a lefty or righty? Will he come right in after we drop the gloves?"

Worlton fought the guy. We might have guessed. Cichocki was impressed. "He did good. He cut the guy over his eyebrow. Jeff didn't have a mark on him."

E-mail pdaugherty@enquirer.com