Monday, March 1, 2010

Good Old Hockey Ode

Of course, the largest collection of good looking men at these winter games belong on the ice and most have missing teeth.

But that's okay.


The cutest is Golden Boy, Sidney Crosby for that amazing shot.

It's going to be one of those things we remember our entire lives.  Like how my parents remember where they were when Canada beat the Soviet Union in 1972.

Forever I am going to know that I was among old friends who I hadn't seen in years, drinking beer and eating Tim Bits.  

When we went into overtime, I couldn't handle the pressure.  My heart rate shot up as if I just ran a mile. I went to the bathroom and did a bit of Buddhist chanting and then told the room to 'Secret' the gold.  I still couldn't calm down so I had to listen to my special Nam Myoho Renge Kyo on my iPod and do lunges in the corner.

Clearly it worked because we won!!

I love how we say 'we'.  I personally did not win.  I haven't even skated in two years and haven't played hockey since 1996.  But even then I suspect I was playing bandy.

Anyhoo, I love that WE won 14 Gold medals.  What is it about sport that unites us?  It's not as if we go to an Opera and jump up when the Sopprano hits her note.  Why is it that 8 minutes into overtime, Canadians all over the country (and world) jumped up at the same time?  We don't ordinarily celebrate achievements of others in such a crazy way.  The Oscars are next week.  And except for people like me, no one really cares. Robson won't be flooded with thousands of people chanting 'George Clooney'.

Why sport?  

Whatever the answer, I am glad for it.  There is nothing like the energy of a city and country that has just won gold in hockey.  At the closing ceremonies, Jon Furlong had to pause when he mentioned the latest medal because the entire stadium burst to their feet, screaming.  It was amazing.

I loved watching the feeds from across the country.  That moment of anticipation and then the united arms in the air mimicking Crosby.  From Nova Scotia and Toronto to the sea of red in Yaletown.  Or how about the soldiers in Kandahar?  The Engineer was in Covent Garden where hundreds of Canadians hit the streets after watching the game at the pub, and walking to Trafalgar Square.

I loved walking through Yaletown, high-fiving everyone we met, hugging cops, screaming in joyous unison.  It lasted well into the night.  After the closing ceremonies, I trekked by myself to Robson, afraid to miss out on the action.  Unfortunately the action was thousands of very drunk 20-year-old men screaming.  Granville smelled like a bar and my shoes stuck to the pavement.  Gross.

What was cool, about these inebriated youths, was when I saw a group of Punjab-Canadians.  They had full beards, turbans and were dressed head to toe in red.  They had the Punjab drum with them and would spontaneously burst into dance.  I saw this THREE times. Three separate groups of men.  Only in Canada right?

I also saw someone throw up.

We'll be telling our kids about where we were.  Where were you?

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