Now that we’ve all had a chance to catch our breath, that was the most entertaining hockey game I’ve seen in the better part of a decade. It was everything you could ask for in a “winner-takes-all,” “do-or-die” showdown- lead changes, physical but controlled play, near-perfect officiating, spectacular goaltending, and, of course, overtime. It felt as if every moment of the nine years without international hockey had been building toward this. Not even in Gary Bettman’s wildest dreams could he have imagined the Four Nations tournament would be this enthralling- and boy, did it deliver.
In times like these, being proud of our Canadian heritage matters more than ever. The year began with the resignation of our nation’s leader, while our neighbour to the south imposed major tariffs and even floated the ridiculous idea of making Canada the 51st state. As absurd- almost laughable- as it sounded coming from Donald Trump, the sheer disrespect of our sovereignty stung. It ignited something in all of us, a deep, collective pride. And what better way to remind the world- especially the States- that not only is this our country, but it’s our game. It’s something that is uniquely special about hockey in Canada: it’s the only sport that can unite us to this extent.
I grew up in an era when international hockey was a norm- Crosby’s golden goal in 2010, another gold in 2014, and the World Cup of Hockey were defining moments in my hockey journey, as they were for so many Canadians. But as Joni Mitchell said, “You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.” Nine years without best-on-best, international hockey was a harsh reality for both fans and players. But after last night, I think we can all agree- it was worth the wait.
Before puck drop last night, as I trudged through the thick coat of snow covering Toronto’s Front Street East, the energy in the city was unlike anything I had ever experienced. Peeking through the windows of pubs, restaurants, and bars, I saw red jerseys filling every corner. I passed by people deep in conversation about the game, debating lineup adjustments, questioning Jordan Binnington’s role. Everyone knew the drill- find a television, grab a beer, and don’t change the channel, because we had a game to win.
It was the culmination of nine years of passion, angst, and anticipation, all leading to this one moment. It wasn’t about winning the Four Nations Trophy or watching our players receive their medals- it was about beating our fiercest rival and making a statement as a nation. Out of the tension between these two nations emerged a spectacular game that exceeded everyone’s already sky-high expectations, and what better way to end it than with a Connor McDavid overtime winner? It was a symbolic goal, a passing of the torch from Sidney Crosby to this generation’s superstar.
As I watched Canada lift the trophy, played Rockin in the Free World on vinyl, and looked out my apartment window to see this beautiful city painted with a layer of snow, I was struck with an overwhelming sense of pride- what a privilege it is to be Canadian, especially tonight.
