Full disclosure: I can't skate.
On the few occasions that I've tried it, I wobble around the ice like a newborn giraffe and generally make a fool of myself.
I've never played in a hockey game and I don't imagine I ever will. I enjoy making fun of my country's obsession with the game and silently curse when my favourite sport, basketball, is consumed under a never-ending avalanche of hockey news.
Full disclosure: I don't really like hockey.
Why, then, did I wake up at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, bleary-eyed and groggy, to watch Canada take on Sweden in the Olympic gold medal hockey game? Why did I sacrifice my precious sleep to watch three hours of a sport I don't care much about? Was it patriotism, a surrender to peer pressure, or just stupidity?
I'm not sure, but I know I wasn't the only one. The broadcast was filled with pictures of packed bars from coast to coast, full of early risers who couldn't resist the call of hockey and the novelty of getting drunk before the sun came up. At one point the screen was divided into four quadrants, showing bars in Halifax, Toronto, Winnipeg, and Vancouver. These people were separated by thousands of miles and several hours, yet there they were, clad in red-and-white and cheering like mad as our boys cruised to a dominant 3-0 win.
Even I'll admit to a little extra excitement when Sidney Crosby, like me a Nova Scotia boy, scored on a breakaway to put the Canadians up 2-0. Beyond the fact that we're close in age and from the same place, he and I have absolutely nothing in common. His life is fundamentally different in every way from mine, yet I had woken up at a ridiculous hour to cheer him on. Sports make people do weird things, don't they?
Full disclosure: I think over-the-top acts of patriotism can be a little weird.
I love Canada as much as anyone, but I've always been a bit uncomfortable with the draped-in-the-flag extremism that sports can engender. I mean, Swedes are nice people, right? Don Cherry doesn't need to dress like the world's most Canadian clown to convince us he loves Canada and we aren't necessarily superior to anybody else because we're awesome at shooting a puck into a net and make great maple syrup.
One of my favourite parts of the Olympics is always the opening ceremony; I'm endlessly transfixed by the parade of humanity that's on display. In Sochi, there were huge teams from Canada and Russia and tiny teams from Lebanon and Hong Kong. I found myself rooting for Jamaican bobsledders and Dutch speed skaters and French skiers- anyone with a good story, talent, or even a little bit of both.
Still, I have to admit I got swept up in the Canadiana of it all when they showed everyone in those bars during the hockey game. It's a strange and wonderful feeling to know that there are literally millions of people doing exactly the same thing you're doing. In a world too often defined by division and discord, it's nice to know that every once in a while there's something we can all agree on. At the risk of sounding like a publicist, that's what the Olympics are all about.
Full disclosure: I got up early, and it was worth it.
BC
