A Good Day With Mixed Results

Today we knew that Canada was playing the U.S. in hockey. We had no event tickets, so we planned to leave early enough to get a seat at Live City downtown to watch. The game didn't start until 4:40 p.m. but we knew that competition for tables at Live City would be almost as fierce as competition on the ice.

We got in at about 12:30 and the place was packed. Kim had a sharp eye and noticed that, while most of the tables were clearly occupied by other people there early for the game, one table had a family with small children. She rightly reasoned that they would not stay long, and, after helping them with directions to the Olympic torch, we got the table. It was the last table to come available before the game ended.

It was a large table, though, and others joined us. Here we again had the luck that has followed us most of these games. We were joined by a foursome of three ladies and one gentleman. They were our age and older, without being old; they were drinkers without being foolish; They were, of course, hockey fans. They were, in short, perfectly suited to be our company for the day. And delightful companions they were.

While waiting for the game, we watched speed skating (a silver for Canada) and curling (Canada won another round robin match), and we talked. The three ladies were all in education and the fellow was a city councilor and had worked in security and catering, we think. He was one of those guys who seemed to know everyone and was constantly introducing us to people like the the security staff and the guy in charge of catering the pavillion.

How can we describe watching the game? Canadians across the country must have gathered to watch, but watching with hundreds of Canadians (and four or five Americans who were good naturedly reviled), in Vancouver, was a whole other thing. It was as close to being at the game as you could get without actually being at the game. At one point, the crowd started taunting Ryan Miller as though he could hear them. Never has the magic of television been more clear. We were completely caught up. We knew that it was not just those in that pavillion watching together, but it was the whole country - but we knew we were at the centre of that audience. If the people at the game were the heart of Canada for the time the game lasted, we felt the aorta and other main blood vessels, carrying the pulse of the game outwards from the arena to the country. If you weren't there, that metaphore seems enormously overblown. We were there; and it isn't.

Of course, the result was not what Canada wanted. But leaving the pavilion and walking out into Vancouver, there was none of the resigned sad sack feeling that accompanies so many, for instance, Maple Leaf games. The patriotic fervor of the crowds on Robson St. and throughout the city, was undiminished. The enthusiasm seems now, genuinely to be for Canada, and not for any success of failure of our team in this or that game or event.

As an aside, after days of essentially non-stop crowd partying on Robson street, the street itself is ... clean. Yes, clean. There is no litter to be seen and no sign that this isn't day 1 of celebration, rather than day 11. We don't know how this is possible, but it is.

Now, a couple of days ago we mistakenly obtained two tickets to the 5th/6th place game for women's hockey tomorrow with Switzerland and Russia. We can't use them, because we will, somewhere, be watching the semi with the Canadian women's team. So, we went to Swiss house, which is set up essentially as a restaurant, and Kim found a couple of Swiss who were delighted to go. We hope they will enjoy the game and then go home and tell everyone how nice Canadians are. We enjoyed fondue and B.C. wine made by a Swiss and then went home to bed.

With true patriot love,

The Entity
Paul McCulloch Alexander
Kimberly Boara Alexander