For One Day, We Cared About Hockey. Well, One Afternoon, Really.

U.S.A! U.S.A! The Game Goes to Overtime

My friend David and I often plan gatherings around sporting events. Sometimes--as was the case for our Poinsettia Bowl party--no one shows. Sunday afternoon was different. The USA v. Canada Gold Medal hockey game proved a big draw, as our ten-person group spilled across two different tables at Ballard's best Upper-Midwest-themed bar, Zayda Buddy's.

And all of us got to experience one of the most thrilling moments in Olympic history--U.S. winger Zach Parise's game-tying goal with just 24 seconds left in regulation. Much of the credit goes to Parise, but let us not forget the contributions of my friend Jason, who chugged a Miller High Life just before the goal was scored in honor of U.S. goalie Ryan Miller. 

I'd arrived at noon, wearing a blue sweater and "Git 'er Done" cap, in order to secure a table. Wise move, as all tables were gone shortly after the 12:30 p.m. face-off. David arrived shortly before the game in a cowboy hat. Beers were ordered, the mysteries of the "blue line" and the "power play" explained, and general shouting at the T.V. commenced. My friend Saira was particularly into the game, having engaged in a shouting match with some anti-U.S. Canadians the night before in Vancouver. "They were jerks," she asserted more than once.

You know how the game turned out, so let's talk about those last thrilling seconds of regulation. I am not a hockey fan; in fact, yesterday's game is probably the first hockey game I've watched in its entirely in ten years. Having said that: There is nothing in sports as exciting as the last minute of a hockey game in which one team is leading by a single goal. The tension is unbearable as the trailing team assumes an offensive advantage by pulling their goalie. Shot after dangerous shot heads toward the net, which each deflection holding the promise of a breakout by the defense for an empty net goal that would seal the game. Fantastic stuff.

And when your team manages to score that tying goal--well, at Zayda Buddy, it was pandemonium. Jumping, hugging, spontaneous chants of U-S-A! U-S-A! A friend walking though Fremont knew the goal was scored when she heard a huge eruption from Dad Watson's.

The sudden-death overtime period was no less tense, but Canada put together a better attack and won with a simple little give-and-go play to young star Sidney Crosby. The bar fell completely silent. Checks were asked for, beers downed, sympathy attempted. "It's okay because Canada was the better team," said friend Mark. "We put up a good fight."

We all piled out into the sunny afternoon, some to engage in "drunk gardening," others to complete much-needed chores. I headed to Gasworks with a friend to throw a football around. Too bad there's not an Olympics for that.

Team USA hockey can get their revenge at the Black Sea resort town of Sochi, Russia, four years from now at the 2014 Olympics. Until then, we don't hold out much hope for good attendance at one of our hockey parties.