A Tale of Two Medals

“Hockey is not a sport in Canada – it’s a cult. It’s a religion”

– Brian Burke, General Manager of The Toronto Maple Leafs and the 2010 United States Olympic Team

One of the most vivid memories I have is watching a hockey game on TV.  I remember exactly where I sat, I remember the emotions I felt, I remember what I was eating, I remember what I was drinking, I remember the smell of the room I sat in.

Sad?  Maybe.  But not to me.  This was back in 2002, when Canada won the Gold Medal in Salt Lake City.  Earlier in the week, the same thing happened, but I was in a very, very different place.  Instead of being in a room with a bunch of my friends in the afternoon, I woke up at 4am on March 1 (February 28 in Canada) and I watched the game alone. It was one of the strangest experiences I’ve had as an expat, and left me feeling more alone than ever.

February 24, 2002: A heavily favoured Team Canada is set to go up against a Cinderella US Team cast as too old from the start of the tournament, but surprised everyone by going undefeated up to the final.

I sat in the lounge of my University residence building with some of my friends in the early afternoon. I could hear people get excited on the floor above me and below me.. It was going to be a moment for the ages.

March 1, 2010: A heavily favoured Team Canada is set to go up against a Cinderella US Team cast as too young from the start of the tournament, but surprised everyone by going undefeated up to the final.

I sat in the living room of my girlfriend’s alone in the very early morning. I could hear nobody around me so I quietly made my breakfast. It was going to be a moment for the ages.

February 24, 2002: I turn on CBC and hear the legendary voices of Bob Cole and Harry Neal start the game. I watched in anticipation as the game started. I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. I screamed with friends and started messaging my friends back home over every little thing.

March 1, 2010: I turn on CCTV-5 and hear the Chinese commentary start the game. I watched in anticipation as the game started. I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm. I kept quiet alone and started messaging my friends back home over every little thing.

February 24, 2002: The puck dropped. Canada was trying to win Gold for the first time in over 50 years. It was over two of my lifetimes. We had come so close in recent years; I knew we could do it this time.

March 1, 2010: The puck dropped. Canada was trying to win Gold for the first time in 8 years. It felt like two lifetimes ago. We had come so close in recent years; I knew we could do it this time.

February 24, 2002: The action goes back and forth, the rhythms of my heart match. With 20 minutes left of play, Canada leads by 1 goal. I set my ICQ Away Message to “20 minutes to glory”.

March 1, 2010: The action goes back and forth, the rhythms of my heart match. With 20 minutes left of play, Canada leads by 1 goal. I set my Twitter status to “20 minutes to glory”.

February 24, 2002: I can’t contain my energy, screaming at every little thing.

March 1, 2010: I start to crash and make another cup of coffee, as quietly as possible.

February 24, 2002: Late in the game, with Canada leading by one, 24 year old Jarome Iginla breaks in all alone. He shoots, he scores!!! Canada lets out a collective scream of joy!

March 1, 2010: Late in the game, with Canada leading by one, 22 year old Sidney Crosby breaks in all alone. He shoots, and fails to score!!! Canada lets out a collective sigh.

February 24, 2002: In the dying moments, Canada scores another goal making the score 5-2. Supposedly Bob Cole makes his legendary call “Now after 50 years, it’s time for Canada to stand up and cheer. Stand up and cheer everybody! The Olympics Salt Lake City 2002, men’s ice hockey, gold medal: Canada!” but I’m too excited to hear it.

As the time runs out I message several of my friends about how great of a moment it is.

March 1, 2010: In the dying moments, the United States scores a goal making the score 2-2. The Chinese commentator goes crazy with excitement, but I don’t understand a word.

As the time runs out I message my sister and say “I feel dead inside”. She responds “Me too”.

February 24, 2002: The Canadian players rush the ice. Gold medals are awarded, “Oh, Canada!” is sang.

March 1, 2010: My phone rings: one of my fellow Canadians in China calling in udder shock. We both say that we may be late for work.

February 24, 2002: I am overcome with joy. We did it Canada! I experience patriotism that I never thought possible.

March 1, 2010: Overtime starts. I am overcome with worry. Can we do it Canada? I experience anxiety that I never thought possible.

February 24, 2002: I call my family to celebrate. I go and see some other friends to celebrate. I celebrate with all of Canada as the moment sinks in.

March 1, 2010: I watch in agony as seven of the longest overtime minutes go by and I dread the two words that I hoped I would never say again: “Shoot out” or “Silver Medal”.

February 24, 2002: I can only say two words “Gold Medal”.

March 1, 2010: 32 year old Jarome Iginla passes to Sidney Crosby. Crosby scores.

I do something that I had avoided doing for hours: I cheered. So did 35 million of my countrymen.

I am overcome with joy. We did it Canada! I experience patriotism that I never thought possible. I call my family to celebrate. I go and see some other friends to celebrate. I celebrate with all of Canada as the moment sinks in. I look at the time. I realize how little I have left and run to get my clothes for work. I change in the living room while the medals are being presented.

I cry as the flags are raised, and I quietly sing “Oh Canada!” with the 20, 000 people in attendance. I cry out of joy for the moment. I cry because I’m not there to experience it.

February 24, 2002: We celebrate together.

March 1, 2010: They celebrate together.  I celebrate alone.

March 5, 2010: I sit here a few days later, still pretty excited. I have watched “THE goal” multiple times and I still can’t believe that it happened. I still can’t believe it.

This is a story that can’t be any better for Canadians, the best player of our generation scores the biggest goal of our generation.  To make it better, it was in Canada.  To make it even better than that, it gave us our 14th Gold Medal, which is the most that any country has ever won at the Winter Olympics.

But as my exuberance has started to fade, it’s been replaced by something else. Loneliness. The truth is, shortly after that goal, I have never been more homesick in all of my life. After all 80% of the people in Canada watched the gold medal game, and me, one of the most devout hockey fans that I know, was not one of them.

What would the 19 year old Glen say to me now?  How could I do that?  How could I not be where the action is?

Living abroad has been a challenge, I have missed births, deaths, weddings, and funerals, and of course those are all challenging, but this was somehow different.  Those were all personal experiences, things that I was missing out of my life.   This time though, I am missing the most collective experience that Canada has ever had, and it’s hard. This was something that was a part of everyone’s life.

Every Canadian I know will forever have a story of the place they were when Crosby scored THE goal. For me though, I wasn’t the one place that I needed to be. I wasn’t home.