A perfect Sunday

This afternoon I was awoken from a glorious slumber by a phone call I barely remember, and then I called back my friend David, who had also called during my nap. He told me he was heading home to watch the gold-medal Olympic hockey game and the Nuggets-Lakers game. Holy crap, how did I not know? So I switched on the TV and this is what I saw.

I picked up the hockey match early in the third period, with the U.S. down 2-1 and not really charging. I was alternately shocked how many names I did and didn’t recognize. Scott Niedermayer’s still playing? Whenever Jack Johnson’s name was called, I started to sing, “it seems to me that maybe…”, and likewise when Mike Richards was on the ice I began to reminisce out loud about what I would have done to him with a fork fifty years ago. This is particularly charming when you realize I was watching the game alone.

Meanwhile the Nuggets were taking care of business in L.A., up by eight or so.

The U.S. was getting occasional chances on goal, slightly better than Canada was, but it became clear that Canada was just playing not to give up another score. I was just hoping for a U.S. goal, or a really good U.S. chance, so the game could be worthy of its billing. Kept waiting, and waiting, and it didn’t come. Minutes were ticking off the clock very slowly, and I was wondering if anything was going to happen. The Nuggets were slowly losing their lead. I began to wonder where Team U.S.A. hockey ranks on my list of favorite teams…top 50, maybe? I of course would rather have one of my teams win gold than have another win some regular season game, but it began to appear I’d get neither.

Then the U.S. pulled their goalie. I don’t care how many hockey games you’ve seen, that never stops being fun, even if it often ends with the opponent scoring on an empty net. The Americans started pressing, forcing the issue, but we didn’t seem to know quite what to do. Come on, stop controlling the puck, get a shot! And then, holy crap, we tied it up.

There were, what, 24 seconds left at this point. The crowd seemed a little out of it, and the Canadian team in general felt shaky. I don’t know if they really were, or if they were just trying to play defense, but it felt good. Nonetheless, I thought, it would suck, but how awesome would it be for Canada to score in the closing seconds and win the gold? They didn’t, naturally, and the game went to overtime.

I switched back to the Nuggets and saw the Lakers take a lead, which later we tied, but the game started to feel over. I switch back to the hockey and IM a Canadian friend to say that they’re about to lose, but I honestly started to feel bad about it. It’s like if someone from Jacksonville had talked trash to me when they knocked out the aging Elway. I just would have cared too much to find any humor or charm in it whatsoever.

Our goalie, Ryan Miller, was playing his butt off, but Sidney Crosby broke free up the left side. I started to relax slightly, thanks to a Sports Guy tweet that he wasn’t worried about Crosby. And next thing I know, Crosby’s scoring on a point-blank, easy goal and the Canadians win the gold medal.

I’m bummed that the U.S. lost, but honestly, if you have to lose to any country in the world in anything, I’ll take to Canada in hockey. And I felt good for my friend, which I hope isn’t some sign of growing maturity or something. Seriously, though, the silver medal in hockey is great. It’s like I told a friend on the phone: if American football was an Olympic sport, we all know the most impressive country would be the one that won silver.

I switch back to the Nuggets, who were just clearly going to lose, and see Carmelo foul out while trying to establish position on Ron Artest. As Mark Jackson said, that wasn’t a sixth foul. But he was sent to the bench and well, that’s the ball game.

But I still had a great day today, since on the way to church I drove past my ex-girlfriend getting pulled over. Police, you’re okay by me. If you ever need voters to support some budget increase or something, you just let me know.