Justin Schmidt and Joe Pace turned their matchups into a regular feature in the Federal Prospects Hockey League, fighting not once, not twice, but three times within a month—and all with the energy of a buddy comedy mixed with rock ’em sock ’em robots. In each game between the Columbus River Dragons and the Carolina Thunderbirds, these two dropped the gloves, locked arms, and exchanged a flurry of punches that looked more like a choreographed routine than a bitter brawl. At one point, fans could count nearly 30 punches traded in a single scrap, though it was hard to tell if any of them landed or really hurt.
Despite the violence, the tone remained oddly affectionate. After each fight, they hugged it out, shared laughs, and even made post-game drink plans. These weren’t angry rivals—they were longtime sparring partners putting on a show. The referees mostly stood by and let it happen, clearly understanding the mutual respect and entertainment factor at play.
By the third fight, it seemed more like a tradition than a confrontation. They met at center ice, nodded in agreement, and went at it again with the same goofy rhythm. Whether the punches landed or not didn’t matter. Schmidt and Pace weren’t just enforcers—they were throwback showmen keeping an old-school, bizarre piece of hockey culture alive.