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IIHF World Championship
- Thread starter C Darwin
- Start date
Realgeorge
Mentor
- Joined
- Nov 2, 2004
- Messages
- 675
Excellent post on a U.S. NHL team site. Tells the truth that Ice Hockey is a great White sport, worthy of American children:
"The World Championship is a criminally underrated tournament in North America, particularly in the United States. And you can find plenty of small-minded types here in the States who will say things like, "Who cares about a hockey tournament in Europe?" Let them watch football. Arena football.
See the tears of the Russians in attendance who have watched their dreams of a gold medal for the home team on home ice evaporate with a heart-breaking 2-1 overtime loss to the Finns. See those same Finns weep openly after their own gold medal dreams die at the hands of the Canadians a day later. Then ask "who cares." You can recover from a bad game or two (or more) and win the Stanley Cup championship. Team Russia played a nearly flawless tournament here and came away only with the bronze. Getting beat to one loose puck was the difference between bronze and a chance at the gold.
Hockey is a global sport. There were no children throwing a football on the streets or in the parks of Russia. No kids aspiring to be Terrell Owens or any of the other model citizens than populate the NFL. No baseball diamonds, either. We saw one basketball court in our time in Moscow, and it was in the process of being refurbished. Hockey is the game there.
Almost everywhere we went, people would see our IIHF badges and would try to engage us in conversations about the game, about Washington, about Alex Ovechkin. Hockey is the glue that binds us. Nobody asked us about the Redskins or the Nationals after they learned we were from Washington. I regret that my Russian was nowhere near good enough to talk to converse with these people, but passion is an international language. You could see it in their eyes, feel it in their handshakes, and hear it in their voices. And when Team Russia played at Arena Khodynka, you could feel it, see it, hear it and wonder if it might blow the lid off the place.
One night, after hopping off the Metro train, I was encountered by a young Russian who grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. I was startled briefly but it passed when he said, "Hockey," and pointed to the credential dangling from my neck.
"Yes, Hockey," I replied. "Alex Oveckhin."
"Ah, Ovechkin," he beamed. "Washington Capitals. Ovechkin very clever man."
"Yes he is," I replied.
At this point, he hugged me and said, "Friends forever."
Then he pointed to his female companion and said, "Now we will go to the club and have some dancing."
This was not an isolated incident."
Edited by: Realgeorge
"The World Championship is a criminally underrated tournament in North America, particularly in the United States. And you can find plenty of small-minded types here in the States who will say things like, "Who cares about a hockey tournament in Europe?" Let them watch football. Arena football.
See the tears of the Russians in attendance who have watched their dreams of a gold medal for the home team on home ice evaporate with a heart-breaking 2-1 overtime loss to the Finns. See those same Finns weep openly after their own gold medal dreams die at the hands of the Canadians a day later. Then ask "who cares." You can recover from a bad game or two (or more) and win the Stanley Cup championship. Team Russia played a nearly flawless tournament here and came away only with the bronze. Getting beat to one loose puck was the difference between bronze and a chance at the gold.
Hockey is a global sport. There were no children throwing a football on the streets or in the parks of Russia. No kids aspiring to be Terrell Owens or any of the other model citizens than populate the NFL. No baseball diamonds, either. We saw one basketball court in our time in Moscow, and it was in the process of being refurbished. Hockey is the game there.
Almost everywhere we went, people would see our IIHF badges and would try to engage us in conversations about the game, about Washington, about Alex Ovechkin. Hockey is the glue that binds us. Nobody asked us about the Redskins or the Nationals after they learned we were from Washington. I regret that my Russian was nowhere near good enough to talk to converse with these people, but passion is an international language. You could see it in their eyes, feel it in their handshakes, and hear it in their voices. And when Team Russia played at Arena Khodynka, you could feel it, see it, hear it and wonder if it might blow the lid off the place.
One night, after hopping off the Metro train, I was encountered by a young Russian who grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me in the eye. I was startled briefly but it passed when he said, "Hockey," and pointed to the credential dangling from my neck.
"Yes, Hockey," I replied. "Alex Oveckhin."
"Ah, Ovechkin," he beamed. "Washington Capitals. Ovechkin very clever man."
"Yes he is," I replied.
At this point, he hugged me and said, "Friends forever."
Then he pointed to his female companion and said, "Now we will go to the club and have some dancing."
This was not an isolated incident."
Edited by: Realgeorge