I haven’t been following the World Juniors much due to its awkward time in relation to Seoul, but I’ve been able to catch bits of it, especially key moments like when the Canadians first lost to the Russians with an embarrassing 6:0 right before the New Year. It was much to my sleepy delight two days ago at around 5:00 am in Seoul when the Canadians faced off against the Russians for the gold and managed to beat even after an early lead. The manner at which the Russians were beaten at the end was something else as well. At the very last minutes of the third period, the Russians were desperate to catch up to Canada that they were making crucial errors, leading to them being two men down at the end. It was our 18th gold at the World Juniors and the fifth time we bested Russia at the finals.
Overseas, when I see the Canadian hockey team beating the Russians or the Americans, it always brings me home. It’s like a magical moment that transports me back to some unknown time and place in Canada, because God knows I didn’t watch hockey with my family. The sport was just something I absorbed via osmosis and I was made aware of just like other Canadiana like ice skating, the Guess Who, and ketchup chips. They were all there. I didn’t sought them out, but living in Canada, I just happen to absorb them. Of course I watched important games back then, but I don’t particularly have any memories of family with it… just hazy memories of old furniture, cold outdoors, and Canada.
Seeing Canadian hockey is like a rush of nostalgia and patriotism all at once. There is a Canadian love affair with the sport. So much so that the Tragically Hip, one of the most important unknown Canadian musicians of all time, had two popular songs about it. And speaking of music, watching it is much like listening to a familiar tune. It’s like listening to Radiohead’s ‘The Bends’ or ‘OK Computer’ and being immediately transported back to younger days along with the old angst and insecurities I used to feel.
There is glee at the prospect of victory while watching the players battle it out on the ice. It’s like being in an unfamiliar airport outside of the United States and feeling a rush of possibilities. “This could be good. This could be good.” The air smells and feels a little bit different. Things (ALL THINGS) could be better if I, or in this case, the players, play their cards right.
And sometimes the emotions turn to misplaced emotions, hate against the other team, great disappointment against the goalie who keeps letting the other team score. “C’mon! We must win, dammit!” And I get caught up in all of it. But for what? To brag against who? To win against who? No one in particular. I’m not here and I’m not now. I’m somewhere in an odd undefined Canadian space along with most people in a country I happen to not be in at the moment.
After all of that. After all of the players got their medals and skated around the ice with the tiny silver cup hoisted above their heads. After all of the commentators finish their final analyses and my online stream is cut off, it takes a few minutes to get over the rush of victory and get ready for work. Congratulations, boys!