And so we come to the end of a hockey-filled week in Mexico City. Five days, fifteen games, all for the low, low price of $C33. Walking into the Pista de Hielo Lomas Verdes, with its refrigerated air, was like stepping back into Canada. After eight months in Mexico, it was the perfect antidote to homesickness. For a week I had the good fortune to lose myself in the poetry of the game, sometimes played well, sometimes played frustratingly poorly, but always with a passion that any Canadian would recognize.
At times, the stands were nearly empty (I’m pretty sure I was the non-employee who attended every game; make of that what you will). All the better to focus on the game itself, stripped of any imagined patriotic, ethnic or nationalist significance. The teams all represented different countries, but I had no horse in this race. I just wanted to see some good hockey.
Canadians, it will surprise no one, take their hockey way too seriously, to the point that it sometimes stands in for our national character. If Team Canada had lost at the Olympics, as it easily could have, you can be sure that the usual suspects would have weighed in about what this meant for the country (hint: nothing good). As it happens, “we” won, and instead Canadians across the country basked in the reflected glory of “our” Olympians.
Of course, we regular Canadians have no right to even this indirect glory. The triumph belongs to the players alone, and perhaps their families and friends. It has nothing to do with “Canada.”
What’s good about the game is in the game itself. This basic truth is a bit clearer in an empty arena, surrounded only by the friends and family members of the players giving it their all for the 60 minutes it takes to win or lose a game. The victories and defeats are theirs, and theirs alone. As spectators, we can only watch and admire. Claiming victory for “our” team is presumptuous.
This is even clear during Mexico’s matches, when the arena was packed with cheering fans. The arena, though, is small – capacity of maybe a thousand or so – and I’m told that everyone in that arena had some connection with the minuscule world of Mexican hockey. The cheers were for Mexico, but they were also underpinned by personal relationships.
Too often, sport is hijacked by opportunists in support of ideologies and agendas that have nothing to do with either the people playing the game or the game itself. Nationalism. Beer. Support for the military and wars. Civic pride. Sometimes this is harmless fun: sports are always more fun when you’re cheering for or against a team, and you have to choose a side somehow.
But it can also go too far, such as when a city ponies up tax money to help pay for a private arena, or when Don Cherry disgracefully uses his Coach’s Corner pulpit to push the idiotic “support our troops” bludgeon to shout down those of us who believe that Canada’s military involvement in Afghanistan is a tragic mistake that is wasting Canadian lives and money in support of foolish, unworkable policies. Players may be motivated by historic grudges, but we as spectators have no right to bring our own to the match and should be wary of doing so.
Hockey, like any sport played well, is culture; it’s art in motion. It possesses an intrinsic value too often obscured by whether “our” side wins or loses. To watch hockey, as a Canadian, in Mexico, away from the jingoism, commercialism and nationalism of the Olympics and Hockey Night in Canada, is to appreciate anew the game for what it is: fast, sometimes brutal, exciting, elegant, and filled with passion.
It was worth every penny.
Bah. Enough already with the mushiness. On to the recaps!
Day Five: Saturday, April 17, 2010
Australia 5, Belgium 2
I’ve been trying to figure out how to describe Australia’s style of play. They don’t have Spain’s explosive speed, though they’re not slow. They lack Belgium’s fluidity, but they can skate and they certainly play like a cohesive unit. They’re not built like tanks like the Bulgarians, but they’re a strong, physical team. Rather, they possess a superior complete game: if no one factor stands out, neither does one notice many systemic flaws.
Oh, and they’re lucky enough to have a great goalie. He stood tall for the Aussies in the first and second periods especially, stopping some quality Belgian chances. And when he was finished holding the fort, frustrating Belgium, Australia’s offence grabbed the puck and took care of business at the other end of the ice. In the end, it looks like this game was a tale of two goaltenders, and today at least, Australia came out on top.
Great goaltending, good defence and good offence. Yeah, I guess that’ll win you some games.
Spain 9, Turkey 1
This game felt like the last day of school: everyone knows how it’s going to end and everyone’s already received their report cards, but you still have to show up. Spain, well, Spain played like a team that had already won the tournament, which means they won without running up the score. After a six-goal first period, they let up considerably, contenting themselves with containing Turkey’s weak counter-attack. And in keeping with the anti-climatic nature of the game, Spain’s postgame on-ice celebration was much more subdued than the elation they expressed after the narrowly beat the upstart Mexican team the previous night.
That’s not to say that Turkey didn’t have their moments, even in such a lopsided game. Their goalie made a spectacular diving glove save in the second period, maybe one of the best of the tournament. After the save, his teammates celebrated with him: a small victory in a tough game.
Bulgaria 5, Mexico 2
After Mexico’s last hard-fought loss against Spain, I had thought that Mexico had a short at winning this game. However, there would be no miracle on ice tonight. Even though Mexico was first on the board with a nice passing play (Mexico doesn’t pass much, but seem to score every time they do) about five minutes into the game, Bulgaria quickly tied it. By the end of the first period, Bulgaria had staked an insurmountable 4-1 lead.
For the rest of the game, Bulgaria contented themselves with protecting their lead against a Mexican team that continued to exhibit the same strengths (speed, an aggressive forecheck, good defence, bursts of individual flair and talent) and weaknesses (inability to set up plays quickly, passing, inability to capitalize on scoring chances) they had throughout the tournament. Bulgaria, meanwhile, managed to salvage a second win in what has to have been a disappointing tournament for a team whose talent didn’t seem to match their 2-3 record.
Final Thoughts and Stray Observations
So that’s how it ends: undefeated Spain moving up to Division I, Australia finishing second, Belgium third, Bulgaria fourth, Mexico fifth, and Turkey relegated to Division III.
Congrats to Spain on a fantastic tournament. But, if the catcalls from the Mexican puck bunnies during the awards ceremony are anything to go by, the Australian team won where it counts.
****
The PA system could have been better. The sound was muddy and it completely cut out randomly throughout the tournament. During the awards presentation that followed the Mexico-Bulgaria game, I couldn’t understand what the individual awards were for. And the announcer was speaking in English.
The erratic PA system led to a disturbing moment at the beginning of the Mexico-Bulgaria game, in which the announcer called for a moment of silence for someone who had died. I can’t tell you more than that because all I could make out was something along the lines of (said in English) “please stand to pay respects for… brutally murdered … young girl … be sorely missed,” followed by a song in Spanish. Very uncomfortable, at least for me.
****
I don’t watch enough international hockey to know if this is common, but I really enjoyed how the teams saluted the crowd and their fans at the end of each game, raising their sticks in the air. Even nicer that the crowds unanimously returned the favour to all the teams. Nice display of sportsmanship.
****
On the third day of the tournament, a bus wrangler guy with a raspy voice helped me get the right bus from the metro station to the arena. We talked a bit about the tournament. This morning (Day Five), he asked me for the score in the Mexico-Spain game, and I told him Mexico lost 4-2, but played really well.
“No me mientes!” he exclaimed – don’t lie to me! “Mexico is terrible at hockey!”
Dude, just for the record, and on the extremely remote chance that you ever read this, I wasn’t kidding. Mexico has potential. If they play the way they played against Spain, that is.
****
I wrote part of this article at an American-themed restaurant next to the arena. Signs that it’s an American-themed restaurant? Wings and burgers on the menu, which also included Duff beer and Krusty Burgers for the kids (the burgers, not the beer). And a life-size Sgt. Rock-style toy soldier army statue out front, leaning forward, growling, gun at the ready. Give that soldier a cigar and the image would be complete.
****
Did you know that one can access the engines of Mexico City’s microbuses, those mainly green VW-sized minivans that provide an important part of the city’s public transit, from inside the bus? I found this out on the way home after Day Four’s games. Bus started to stall, or rev too much, or something, during a rainstorm, and they opened her up, took a look, and then drove her for about another kilometer – with the cover off – before giving up and flagging us down another bus. Sure, it was a bit odd hearing, seeing and smelling a broken engine from the inside of the bus, but the transit system here is still more efficient than Ottawa’s.
****
After watching three live games a day for five of the last seven days, I can now turn my attention to the first round of the NHL playoffs. Truly an embarrassment of hockey riches.
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