Wayne Gretzky's Ghost Read Online Free PDF Page A

enthusiasm, our urge to jump into the world’s deep water—we had changed.”
    This lack of confidence, so often buried under bravado, would rise and fall for decades following the 1972 series. The 3–3 tie between the Soviet Red Army and the Montreal Canadiens on New Year’s Eve, 1975, would be spoken of as “the greatest game ever played,” yet if that were true—and many still believe it was—then it meant that the Russian robots had risen to a level equal with the very best of Canadian hockey. And if the Russians were coming, how soon the Americans?
    Outsiders could still be beaten by Canadian players in Canada Cups or in NHL exhibitions, but too often the difference maker would be brawn (as when the Philadelphia Flyers pummelled the Red Army back into the dressing room in early 1976) or, as it was so often said, heart—despite medical proof that Russians, Swedes, Finns and Czechs all got their blood from a similar pump.
    Canada had entered an uneasy time with its own game. Every loss, no matter how close it might be—the 1981 Canada Cup, Rendez-Vous ’87, various world championships and junior championships—seemed to cause another jolt of identity angst. Having wished for a century or more that the world would appreciate the game that Canada had given it, many Canadians seemed unable to accept that the game had indeed been taken up by others and that others could play it.
    This anxiety came to a crisis point as the game entered its second century. Canadians had always believed that if only NHLers were allowed to participate in the Olympics, world dominance wouldbe automatic. When it happened in 1998, and the Canadian men’s team failed even to win a medal, the blow to national pride was devastating. That year also saw the beginning of seven consecutive world junior championships in which the best hockey country in the world could not prove itself best.
    By 2002, in Salt Lake City, this growing national anguish was expressed perfectly by the country’s greatest player, Wayne Gretzky, when he told a startled media gathering that “the whole world wants us to lose.”
    A few days later, however, the whole world (at least the small world that gives a damn about hockey) saw Canada win, and not only the men’s gold medal but the women’s as well.
    In retrospect, the self-doubt and anxiety played an important role. Canada began questioning its own sense of superiority in the 1990s—never so much as at the 1999 Open Ice Summit, which could basically be summed up in three words: What went wrong?
    To the great credit of those who have a say in shaping the way the game is played as well as those who play the game—from Hockey Canada down to the smallest local minor hockey organization—everything from coaching to skill level was re-examined and, often, reconsidered. You would have to be naive and foolish to call it perfect, but there can be no doubt that the game is in better shape in Canada today than it has been for decades. The 2010 hockey summit held in Toronto this last summer seemed oddly unpressing, almost unnecessary.
    Canada is once again comfortable in its hockey skin.
    The men and women won gold in Vancouver. If the juniors don’t win gold, they at least play for it. Young Canadians such as Sidney Crosby (captain of the 2009 Stanley Cup champion Pittsburgh Penguins), Jonathan Toews (captain of the 2010 Stanley Cup–winning Chicago Blackhawks) and the two top draft picks of the 2010 draft, Taylor Hall of the Edmonton Oilers and Tyler Seguin of the Boston Bruins, are all … Canadian.
    There remains, however, one itch still to be scratched. Onethat has grown increasingly irritating since 1993, when the Montreal Canadiens last accomplished the feat.
    And that is to bring the Stanley Cup home. Where it began—and where a great many Canadians believe it belongs.
THE HEART OF HOCKEY
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Legion
Magazine, January/February