Status: Ongoing.

Finding an Edge

TWO

FEBRUARY 18, 2010

VANCOUVER, BC

Olivia wakes up the next day tired, and with every intention of going to cheer Patrick (1) on in the Men’s Free Skate. (2) Only it doesn’t quite work out that way.

Instead of heading over to the Pacific Coliseum like she had planned after lunch, Olivia finds herself wandering around the Olympic Village, tucked into her Hudson’s Bay (3) coat and hat, athlete’s pass around her neck.

She walks up through the buildings denoting the different country’s temporary residences for their athletes and eventually finds herself on the edge of the settlement. The fresh air is heavenly, and while many people still wander about, the view of the water more than makes up for it. BC Place is easy to spot, decked out in the blue and green Vancouver 2010 logos. The smaller arena next to it, however, gives her pause.

It’s already 2:30 pm according to her phone. The game’s probably half over, she thinks. There’s no point in going. She’s not even sure why she’s so worried about it. Her dad would laugh if he could see her now, caring about a hockey game. But dad was back in Toronto, and would be until Sunday.

Shaking her head she turns away. If she runs, she can still make the 3:00 pm shuttle to Pacific for the Free Skate. Like she was supposed to be doing.

Catching the bus just in the nick of time, Olivia boards, showing her pass to the driver and grabbing a seat. She waves to another female athlete in maple leaf red across from her. Speed skater, maybe? She can’t remember, but the woman looks familiar. Olivia is rewarded with a small smile in return.

The Men’s Free Skate isn’t until 5:00, but it’ll take the shuttle several stops in order to get there. She is jerked out of her thoughts when the bus hits it’s first stop.

Like someone is playing a joke on her, the first stop after the village is Canada Hockey Place.

Should she?

No.

But maybe…?

No.

The driver pulls the lever, and the doors start to shut. Olivia jumps from her seat and bolts for the door impulsively.

“Sorry!” She tells the driver. The doors of the shuttle swing back open and the driver gives her a disgruntled look.

“Sorry. Thank you!” She shouts behind her, like it would make a difference.

Feeling the cooling breeze off the water she hurries towards the doors, once again flashing her pass to the Olympic security officers. Olivia gets a strange feeling as she moves further into the bowels of the arena. She’s not used to being at the rink as a spectator. It’s a bit surreal.

As she rounds the final turn towards the stands she notices that she’s mistaken. The teams on the ice are neither completely red and white, but rather both possess blue stripes. She’d gotten the times mixed up. This was the end of the USA vs. Norway game. And it was going as well as could be expected, with the U.S. leading 3-1.

She’s barely in her seat when the American fans are back on their feet hollering. Make that 4-1. Olivia manages to settle in quietly due to the distraction of the goal, and pretend like she’s not supposed to be somewhere else.

When the U.S. scores twice in two minutes a little bit later, she’s wincing for the Norwegian team. That was three goals in the last ten minutes alone. The two teams file off the ice shortly after the last buzzer, and it’s not long before the Zamboni follows. She sees many of the star-spangled banner carrying fans heading for the exits, but is reassured a few minutes later when several maple leaf barring ones replace them. She hadn’t missed any of the Canada v. Switzerland game.

But now, if she was going to stay and watch it, she would certainly miss the Free Skate.

The Zamboni finishes it’s final lap, and the stands become more filled. Photographers crowd the glass, and children with little red leaves painted on their face chatter excitedly to their parents.

Olivia had only been to a hockey game once before. She’d been eleven, and her dad had won Leafs tickets in a raffle at work. They’d been awful seats, way up high in the nosebleed section. But her dad had tried his best to educate his stubborn figure skating daughter on Canada’s favourite pastime. She’d been more interested in the food vendors going by.

But now Olivia wished she had listened a little closer. She had told Sid yesterday that she was fond of hockey. That wasn’t… completely true.

Most figure skaters she knew growing up had always complained about hockey players getting the priority ice time over them. Calling them big brutes and moaning about the smell they left behind in the dressing rooms.

Olivia had been mostly indifferent to their fellow ice dwellers. Ice time was ice time. She’d never cared when it was scheduled, as long as she got it. Getting mad at the hockey players at the rink had always seemed somewhat petty to her, like the other skaters were just looking for someone to blame. But it was so normal in the locker room after a session that she’d stopped questioning it.

She hadn’t lied to Sid. At least she didn’t think so. Maybe she didn’t understand the finer points of the game, but she’d never found it boring. It was too fast for that. And sure, the puck was hard to see sometimes, but you had to get used to it at some point, right?

As if hearing her thoughts, the Zamboni drives off and the Refs take the ice. The stands are packed at this point, a sea of red and white. The noise of the arena escalates, and Olivia marvels at it. The energy, despite this only being a preliminary round game, is circulating and infectious. She does see a few white crosses for the Swiss team, but the representation is not nearly as wide spread.

The Canadians are the first to take the ice, closely followed by the Swiss. Olivia tries to take stock of the numbers and match them with names. She recognizes none of them, unlike in the previous game, when she’d been pleasantly surprised to see Kessel, one of her father’s Maple Leafs on the U.S. squad.

And then she spots him. Number 87. She remembers faintly hearing her dad talk about how the reigning Stanley Cup Champion had chosen it because it was his birthday. Not once, but twice. 8/7/87.

He glides easily alongside his teammates, a practiced and relaxed ease on the frozen surface they both spend their lives on. She finds it hard to look away from him after that.

Her pocket buzzes, and Olivia pulls out her phone to check it. It’s Tess, asking her if she was on her way to Pacific. She winces, but puts the device back in her coat and zips the pocket shut.

She is drawn back to the game when the music gets louder, and the players, save those that are playing first, leave for the bench. It doesn’t escape her notice that #87 lines up at centre ice for the puck drop.

Within seconds of the play starting, the fans have begun a chant. But Olivia is quiet, untrained eyes trying desperately to keep up with the men moving at breakneck speeds across the ice. A couple minutes in the Swiss get a penalty, though she has no idea what for.

The first goal happens so fast she almost misses it. The arena is pounding loudly in its aftermath, and she also misses who scored. She feels her pocket buzz again, but continues to ignore it. Her seat is close enough to the glass that sometimes she thinks she’s hearing the yells from the players, she sees the tremors in the boards from the hits. Olivia lets the familiar sounds of blades scraping away at the ice comfort her.

The rest of the period passes without anyone else scoring, though there is a close call when Team Canada’s goalie (4) makes an impressive save with his glove. After a short break they move into the second period. Again, there is a Swiss penalty that’s lost on her, but it doesn’t seem to matter because within seconds of the puck being dropped the buzzer is going off signifying another goal. The arena explodes once more.

It doesn’t last, however. About 10 minutes later the Swiss finally get one past the Canadian goalie, which is joined by a second goal as the period begins to wind down once more. They start the 3rd period at a draw, 2-2.

And it stays that way for the next two periods. Which confuses her, there’s only supposed to three of them, right? But the game is still tied, even after the extended play. She hears the men next to her throwing names around, and tunes in when she hears them speak a familiar player’s name.

“That’s it. They’ll send it to a shootout now.” The first one says.

“Yup. No doubt. I say Toews. Probably Crosby.” The second one chimes in.

“Toews for sure. Crosby for sure. Babs might go with Heatley. He scored that opening goal.”

The word ‘shootout’ rang a few bells in her mind. Olivia could faintly recall the rule about when a game was trapped in deadlock like this, they would have the players shoot one on one with the opposing goaltender.

“Scored in the first game too. Twice, along with Iginla’s hat trick, but Iginla got hit so that’s him out.” The second man continued.

The Swiss are up first and Olivia almost feels bad for the guy as he’s greeted with nothing but boos from the crowd. He’s easily stopped by the Canadian goaltender.

Her heart jumps into her throat, however, when she spots number 87 making his way to centre ice once more for the first run for Team Canada. Only to release a harsh breath when he’s swatted away by the Swiss goalie and denied the shot.

The next Swiss player is also denied, and the crowd once again lets loose. The player up for Canada is #16, the one the two men are referring to as ‘Taves’, though she can’t be sure. The name on the back of his jersey is spelt with a ‘W’ and looks more like ‘Toes’. He’s blocked as well, however.

Olivia wonders how long shootouts normally last, because the back and forth begins to get to her. She wants to chew at her nails, hold her breath. The 3rd Swiss player misses. And then so does #51 for Canada.

From what she’d gleaned from the two men chattering next to her, the shootouts work in sets of three. Now that no one had scored after 6 attempts, the first try would go to Canada. And sure enough, the next skater returning to the ice is once again 87. Olivia can’t help but cross her fingers.

Sid takes it slower this time, and just when Olivia thinks he’s going to skate closer, he fires one off at the little red lines (5) and the buzzer blares.

For the first time since the game began she’s up on her feet and screaming with the crowd.

The Swiss are allowed to send another player out to try and tie it up, but to no avail. Her phone vibrates in her pocket. The game is Canada’s.
♠ ♠ ♠
(1) - Patrick Chan, a male figure skater who placed 5th overall in Vancouver. He has since gone on to win silver in Sochi 2014.
(2) A Free Skate, is the second of two skating 'programs' or routines, that a figure skater does in competition. They must be approximately 4 mins. long.
(3) The Hudson's Bay, or just 'the Bay', is a popular retailer with its origins in Canadian fur trade. It is one of the oldest retailers in North America, if not the oldest. While it is no longer a Canadian company, it's history and identity remains closely tied to Canada. It was also the retailer that supplied Team Canada's outfits during the 2010 Olympics.
(4) Marty Brodeur, not that Olivia knows that lol.
(5) Olivia is referring to the hash marks.