Runaway Pussy - A Matter of Honor (Part 1)

So. It is the last jam. The REAL last jam, the period clock has expired.
You take a look at the old Carolina and see the following: Jam time remaining: 15 seconds Score, you: 191 Score, them: 187 Let's assume for giggles that the math is all right and the scoreboard has been updated with each pass (your bench coach should have a general impression of this), which is assuming a lot. I have kept score exactly once, it was in a bout (yikes), it followed a bout where I got an eval and was focused being the BEST NSO EVER. Look at me, sprinting across the track to verify penalty minutes because someone looked puzzled in the box. I'm....SUPER NSO. I was tired. And, yep, crazy close game with sharp bench coaches who were making decisions based on my math being correct. At the end of the game the jam ref sprinted over saying "please no math errors, please no math errors". There were none because...it's me yo.
But still. And I digress.
SO it is a pow-pow-powerjam NOT in your favor. Two of your blockers are in the box. Your butt is worth 4 points. The jammer is coming. You are about to lose. (And, holy heck, I just realized a GIANT duh about an earlier post, will update). You can take it like a woman.
OR YOU CAN GRAB YOUR BUDDY AND RUN. No butt, no point. No pack. Run like the wind little buddy. If the opposing blockers are smart they will chase you because they have done the math to. If not they will let you go and the pack will break. Their goes your buddy. Your butt is worth 5 points now. You skate past the box, see your teammate standing, yell DO NOT COME BACK TO THE TRACK and she is all "but I wanna HIT someone, wah".
You get an out of play major (failure to return, HA, now I get it, THAT is another reason why this is a penalty, to restrict this "strategy" to the last jam) but you can't leave the track because no butt, no point. But you are still running. You get a sustained failure to return.  Maybe you get kicked out of the game on paper but whoa can't touch this. The game ends. The math checks. You win. The crowd, the refs, the opponents HATE you. What a smug bitch. What about the spirit of the game? Who do you think you are, missy, Shock Exchange in the 2012 Spring Roll? Well, no.
This is a tale as old as time. Once upon a time, this was a matter of honor. Then it all changed and the rules committee has been trying to keep up. The story of runaway pussy. This will take a while.