The curtain falls on the Winter Olympics today in a style that is the thing of legend. Not since Lake Placid in 1980 has a men's hockey game been more significant. At least for the winners. It might be difficult for the average American (that is United Statesian) to fathom what it means to be a Canadian; sharing the majority of a continent with the world's only Super Power. And yet, tonight, in a powerfully played and intense match, they met us on the ice and walked away the victors. Congratulations, Canada. No sour grapes here, but we both know that it (like the battle between the US and the USSR in Lake Placid in 1980) could have so easily gone either way. Dame Fortuna has smiled upon Canada and turned Sidney Crosby into an instant super star. Watching it all happen on TV, I was a wreck of emotions. Everyone played so hard. To see the despair in the face of Ryan Miller, the US goalie, was as profoundly hurtful as the abject joy in the eyes of Crosby was equally elative. And isn't that the essence of sport? An emotional catharsis played out through others. In the end the grace of both teams in victory and lesser victory really summed up the power of the Olympics to speak to our humanity while still imagining a world where nationalism means anything. After all, the coach of the Canadians is the coach of the Detroit Red Wings, and Monsieur Crosby is captain of the Chicago Black Hawks. The American team member, Ryan Kesler, plays for the Vancouver Canucks.
We must appreciate this thing we call the Olympics while it still holds any relevancy. And today we were given a wonderful event to conclude a wonderful games. I wonder how many more like it will occur.
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