The Peak

Most entertaining hockey, ever!

By Justin Isaacs

The men’s ice hockey tournament was an amazing spectacle to witness over the last few weeks; the story was so perfect that George Orwell couldn’t have written it better.

Amidst all the public intoxication I experienced in the two-week span, here is what was going through my head during Canada’s rollercoaster ride:

In the opening game, Canada had to take on the great hockey powerhouse of Norway, who, despite not winning a single game in this tournament, were impressive. The 8-0 blowout was as predictable as gravity, and the Canadians appeared to be building chemistry. So far so good, right?

The next game was a revenge match from 2006, when the Swiss handed Canada a crushing 2-0 defeat. This time around, it would be unfathomable that the Canadians take the Swiss lightly.

Apparently, most of the players didn’t get the memo because instead of delivering a heavy right to the Swiss, we threw a left-handed muffin, reminiscent of an Italian soccer fight I saw once on YouTube.

Despite all that, the 3-2 shootout win over Switzerland turned out to be a blessing in disguise. The result, in combination with Martin Brodeur’s Ken Griffey Jr. impersonation, which cost Canada the game against the USA, paved the way for a quarterfinal matchup between the biggest rivals in hockey, Canada and Russia.

Before this dream matchup could happen, Canada had to first earn their spot. They went on to destroy a German team who were about as demoralized as the crew from Das Boot and just wanted to get to the German house for a typically German oversized pint of Löwenbräu. And then Canada steamrolled Russia. Folks, I get sadistic when it comes to the Russian hockey team: I love bathing in their misfortune. What a god-awful performance by the Russians. The only performance at the games that was worse than this one was John Furlong’s feeble attempt to speak a few words of French at the opening and closing ceremonies. And after all the hype about how good Russia was supposed to be coming into this tournament, it was nice to see their team exposed for what it actually was; great one dimensional forwards with sub-par KHL’ers sprinkled throughout the line-up like Parmesan cheese. If one thing is certain, don’t expect the Russians to make the same mistake in 2014 on home soil. See you in Sochi, Russia. Next up, Slovakia.

The Slovaks turned out to be the team of destiny in this tournament, and their destiny was to make it to the semi-finals and lose to Canada. They tried to play the rope-a-dope on Canada but went down 3-0. However, a late surge by the Slovaks turned the game on its head. Fans could hardly watch and I cowered like Kyle Wellwood does in post-whistle scrums. Wave after wave, the Slovaks attacked the goal late and brought the game to within a goal. But as I alluded to earlier, Slovakia’s destiny was to lose to Canada, and Roberto Luongo ensured that by stopping Pavol Demitra right on the doorstep in the final seconds of the game. More beer? I think so.

And just like that, the match-up that everyone wanted was official. Canada would play the USA in a rematch for the gold medal, a rematch which needed no buildup or hype.

The game did not disappoint as it had a frantic pace and end-to-end action. However, in the dying seconds of the game with Canada trying to hold onto a one-goal lead, Zach Parise slid one past Luongo to force overtime.

All I could think about was how much faster the USA was going to be in a 4-on-4 situation. Visions of Ryan Kesler banging in some garbage goal around the crease kept replaying through my head.

The game plan was clear: score in overtime, and score early. Booze later. Well, could you imagine a better ending for the Canadian Winter Olympics than the golden boy being the overtime hero? Sidney Crosby, the pride of Timbits hockey and a complete no-show for much of the tournament, took a pass from Iginla and scored the golden goal right through Miller’s wickets.

In the end, losing to the USA and narrowly edging the Swiss was worth it. Fans had the pleasure of seeing Canada play against more hockey powers than had been anticipated. Even the game against the Swiss was entertaining. The match-ups were as good as anyone could have hoped for and the way the tournament ended, with Crosby scoring in overtime to beat the Americans, was perfect. No, Orwell could not have written a better story then the one we witnessed in Vancouver.