The lights are turned off. The curtains are closed. The only light in the room comes from the television, centered in our cramped living room and blasting updates on the game as the announcers broadcast every single play in explicit detail. We could of course see it on screen, but the announcers made the plays so much for enthralling and made us lean forward, eyes glued to the action on the screen. For this match, my eyes wander to Sidney Crosby, my favourite player and Canada’s up and coming hockey star.
Thirteen minutes of suspense and Jonathan Toews, sporting number 16,shoots the puck past USA goalie Ryan Miller and nets Team Canada their first goal! We leap up, cheering as the buzzer goes off, announcing the game's first goal, and for our country nonetheless. My brother and I laugh, high fiving in victory.
The next goal isn't scored till the second period. At this point, players on the ice are already beginning to look tired, from the US and Canada both. Corey Perry manages to sneak in another solid goal for Team Canada, past Miller’s iron defense that our players have been trying to break all game.
My family’s response is slightly less enthusiastic this time, it’s second period and while we’re up two nothing, there’s still far too much time of game left to call victory this early. Nonetheless, we cheer and bump fists, praising Perry for his skill. The Olympics are no parlor game after all, and whilst these guys are pro NHL players, the Olympics are on a whole other level of professionalism.
And of course, we were right not to celebrate too early. Roberto Luongo, star goalie and player for our very own Vancouver Canucks can’t keep up his goal saving all game. It
begins with one shot in the second period. There’s only one more period left though, and praying for no more US goals, I lean forward, my hands clenched at my sides. For the most part, our defense is solid and if we can keep the puck from the Canadian half of the ice, we can save Luongo his stamina and maybe, just maybe, secure a win.
It’s too much to ask for. While Luongo’s defenses are strong, thirty seconds before the third period ends, Team USA shoots past him, puck hitting the back of the net. The Canadian players look dejected. It may not be over, but with a 2-2 score, this is now anyone's game.
The game goes into overtime. It comes as no surprise. Scoring another goal in the remaining thirty seconds would have been next to impossible anyways.
The overtime drags on. The players fight harder, both teams know that whoever makes a goal wins the round, the gold, and the world spotlight. Neither one is willing to settle for silver.
In a last ditch effort,Team Canada pins their hopes on one player. Number 87. Sidney Crosby. Team Captain.
It was a bet well placed. Twelve minutes and twenty seconds into overtime, Crosby aims. The puck rests on his stick for mere seconds before it is launched into the net. The final goal of the game. The one that would be known for years to come as “Crosby’s golden goal.”
Celebration comes easily and suddenly we’re all up, standing and screaming in joy, much like the players on screen. Noise filters through the thin walls of our townhouse complex and the prideful, ecstatic yells of our neighbors can be heard.
It’s with happy tears streaming down our faces and excited screams that we cheer. The pride and joy that comes from this moment, says one thing about us. We are Canadian. And on this day, as the crowd roars, we have won.