Could I be more Canadian than this? I just turned on the hockey game, the gold medal game between the U.S. and Canada – five minutes to play and the Canadians one up. Most of the nation is glued to the screen. It had occurred to me that this would be a great time to go to the art gallery or the museum, because both will be deserted. No, here I am, Canuck that I am. But, I confess, I just turned it on for the last five minutes, which means 15 or more. Too much speed and tension. I can smell the testosterone and machismo from here.
It’s so silly – most of the American players are undoubtedly Canadian, and the U.S. team is being coached by the Toronto Maple Leafs coach – but it has become the match of a lifetime. Crosby just missed getting one in. Lord, it IS exciting. The sound from Vancouver is deafening.
Please don’t let them pan to a picture of our unctuous prime minister giving his wife a high five. At the Y yesterday, they were showing the Olympics in the snack bar, and there he was with his dead, frozen smile; CTV kept panning to him. I booed out loud, very loud, right there in the Y snack bar. That’s his majority government, him fake smiling as Canadians win gold. It makes me physically ill.
I was at the Epicure Deli on Parliament Street this afternoon when a local man came in, a man without many teeth … excuse me, it’s one minute 30 seconds, I have to watch … holy @#%^, it’s quite something. One minute seventeen seconds. Does this matter, in the scope of things? Not for a second. Are the homeless still homeless? Have the arts been cut by 70% in B.C., partly to pay for these games? Yes. Ye Gods, I have never seen so many maple leaf flags in my life. And I confess this too – it is moving, it is thrilling, my heart is racing.
Time for a glass of wine. 54 seconds remaining, the crowd is hysterical. I should be in a bar. My son is working right now – it must be crazy in the pub. 40 seconds. 32 sseconds. 25 seconds. Score!!!!!!! Game tied!!!!! Oh my God, that means it goes on. I can’t stand it.
There are more important things in life. A Canadian kid – sounds like Zack Parisé – scored for the U.S. I can’t stand it. I’m turning it off.
As I was saying, I was in the Epicure and a man came in carrying something strange, a long white and silver twisty thing, and showed it to us – it was one of the Olympic torches. He carried it for a bit when the torch came through Toronto, and was allowed to buy one afterwards. He was told that this is what he should do – carry it around and allow others to hold it. So we all held it, I buying whole grain sourdough bread, a neighbour buying coffee and cheese, we held the unlit torch and admired it – it was really heavy – and handed it back. Not bread but circuses, that’s what the Olympics is, but marvellous too.
The TV stays off. My mother is going to call me when it’s over.
P.S. I couldn’t not watch. Too exciting! So glad it was Crosby, one of the nicest guys ever. Loved the shots of Cole Harbour, the very small Nova Scotia town Crosby is from, screaming with joy. Glad we won even though it’s meaningless, even though the guys we beat were mostly Canadians, even though it’s good news for Harper.
My daughter called, euphoric, and when I started to moan about these things, she said, “Tomorrow, Mum, okay? For today, let’s just celebrate.” Not only this gold medal, but the fact that Canada has won more gold medals than any country ever has in a winter Olympics.
Okay. Just for tonight. Because tomorrow, reality dawns. But tonight – great going, boys. We’re very proud of you.
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