Monday 1 March 2010

Canadian Gold

So the Olympics happened. And, like most Canadians, mostly what I cared about was the hockey. In fact, I probably cared MORE about the hockey this year since I now live, most of the time anyway, in America.

So some of my Canadian friends and I joined five hundred other Canadians at a mid-town bar at an event organized by some Facebook group called Canadians in NYC. We got there at around noon for the 3:15 game. There were no tables left. "Well," said the waitress, pointing to the one table at the very front, "those guys over there are here for brunch, and if they're not staying for the game then we can reserve that table for you. We don't usually do that but there's ten of you so it would be ok for today." So we checked it out, and they didn't even know there was a game, and said sure we could have their table. So we grabbed some drinks from the bar and stood around. And stood around some more. Finally, at 2pm their food came out. Because their food had taken so long, they were drinking up loads and loads of the free champagne that was coming with their all-inclusive brunch. By 3pm, only half of them left and there was barely standing room in the bar. So we went over to get our table. "OH, we're not leaving," one guy slurred. Excuse me? "Well... this lookslikefun. And I like fun." So our waitress had to go over and bully them. (As a waitress, I know how incredibly satisfying that sort of thing can be, esp when those customers have been assholes, which these guys were. Still, I could have kissed her.)

By the time the actual game started, you couldn't move. After the first period, I had to go ACROSS THE STREET to go to the bathroom. And then plead and con my way back in. ("But I have a table, and food getting cold!") Drunken Canadians pushed at me from almost all sides, though at one point I was in the corner, with no one jostling me, and a great view of the bar: a sea of red and white, Canadian flags and hockey jerseys. Honestly, Canadians don't get patriotic about much, but holy shit do we get patriotic about hockey. Which is something that some American friends learned that day. They were great sports, but they sat there the entire time with bewildered looks on their faces, like they had encountered a strange alien species. When Canada finally won in overtime, the bar ROARED. And the Americans looked bewildered. And then we all got gift certificates to Porter Airlines.

Hockey: more than just a game.