Where's Muk Muk?

So today was International Hockey Day in Vancouver, as the big tourney kicked off. I started the day at the tavern and watched the US square off against the Swiss and after the first frame, initial Maniwaki scouting is confirmed. The Yanks mean business.

How do I know this? Not because the opening jitters were quelled quickly as by the second period the young guns gelled. Not from two highlight reel goals from the US to open the tourney. Not from the Americans' physical play that became more evident as the game wore on.

No, the reason the Yanks mean business, is because Ryan Miller has got spray painted on his mask, Uncle Freakin' Sam rolling up his sleeves. These kids are here to play. Final score: 3-1. Some thought it should be more, but let's remember. These lower ranked European squads, while not boasting a ton of NHL players, play together so often they have their chemistry in place. Not to mention the Swiss program which triumphed our ours in round robin play in Turino. The Young Gun Yanks did more than just ok. Just wait.

Finished my time at the tavern. Drove directly to the station to pick up sister, Pajakistan, as she emerged from the brand new Canada Line. Pretended to be a dignitary, stopping in the Olympic lane no stopping zone, only to get waved back by a traffic cop and swarmed by a sea of pedestrians. It was like a scene out of the Bourne Identity. The foot traffic cleared and sped off in our small import hatchback.

Took right off of the main Olympic drag right at the corner where I witnessed the race to end all races yesterday, and then inched along the incredibly packed streets.

"Congratulations Maelle Ricker on winning gold." Another one. Awesome.

As far as representation is concerned, it seems the Russian contingent is in the fullest of forces. Team Russia unis are everywhere and Russian is the most common foreign accent you hear. If I don't run into Putin, at some point I will be very disappointed. For the last few months, Brother Carn has been diligently researching the Motherland, as a future family trip is inevitably to be made. Hearing all of the mother tongue around town lately, I can say that I'll be checking the flightcentre periodically for Transsiberian passes.

Got home. Chilled. Flipped on the TSN feed. Canada was just about up against Norway in the opener and everyone was making a big deal about it. Look. I understand. But I'm not going to add to the excessive hype. Yes, I want us to win Gold as much as the next guy, but we're putting too much pressure put on our lads. Let's just chill out, crack a Kokanee, and let them play.

I wish there was an actual instrument in existence named, "National Hockey Barometer." I'd love to see what it read at the end of the first when it was still 0-0. The dial must've somewhere between "legitimately concerned" and "light panic."

I could break this game down, but you watched it as well as the highlights thirty times as well. I mean please...

Even Bob had a good game. However, it's not group play that has the Maniwaki barometer at only "slightly concerned." It's the elimination games. No matter how stacked we seem to be, we are one bad Brodeur or Bob outing away from an Olympic exit. If Miller or Nabokov or even Halak get hot in addition to a rolling Kessel, Kesler, or Gaborik, we could be out the Garage doors quicker than you can say Jonathon Quick.

And I haven't even mentioned the names, "Malkin" and "Ovechkin" yet.

We ate a huge family din din, and the Pajakistan and I departed for the Olympic Barn. We were to attend the big Russia/Latvia showdown tonight. I swear that one of VANOC's security strategies is to get you running like a mouse in a maze to get anywhere, as entering GM Place was not as easy as it usually is, crossing the street from the Skytrain.

But the stroll up was great. We walked over a concourse over Expo boulevard, approaching the Dome. It was a very "Gladiator" moment as we approached the Great Colosseum where Alexander The Great would soon set foot in.

Great seats. Lower bowls, right where Russia attacked twice. The scene was so surreal. I don't know where to begin. How about the line up? That boasts Ovechkin, Malkin, Semin, Nabokov, Gonchar and Markov? And that's just for starters? When the teams filed onto the ice, everyone was losing it. Olympic hockey with the rock star dream team. Right here.

I expected anthems, but there were none. Both squads circled around, and eventually squared off.

Then the puck dropped. And it was on.

I expected complete annihilation.

Which looked to be the case as the Russians swarmed the Latvian zone early and refused to relent. The Latvian goalie, Edgars Masalskis, really earned his lats as he turned away an absolute barrage of shots early. Eventually it was overwhelmed as Danis Zaripov punched through with the first goal two minutes in. The inevitable rout was coming.

Radulov scored next. The funny thing is is that this guy rapidly became my one of my new favourite Olympic antagonists. It's great. He's the guy that basically told the NHL to take a hike, and then gets placed on the Team Russia national squad. And he's really good. Every time he was on the ice, he was up to something. Making plays, getting in the face of the Latvians. He's like a grizzly Russian bear foraging for whatever he can kill. Always patrolling defending his territory. And his disdain for the west is even better. He's the closest thing to a true Soviet era player. Only tougher, meaner and with a badder beard.

Ovechkin was next to do his thing. With less than a minute in the first he chipped one in. The place went crazy. I felt like I was at a huge rock fest and the buzz band just took the main stage. The guy not only lives up to the hype. The guy is the hype.

Departed during the intermission for booze. Man... even the GM Place concourse feels like the international village. Team Russia and Team Latvia gear was abound. Russian was spoken amongst men standing in the long line for the bathroom facilities. At times, I honestly thought I was watching a KHL klub game at Trade Union Sports Palace in Nizhny Novgorod.

Let's also not forget about the Latvians. Unbelievably, the loudest cheers and most lunatic fan behaviour came not from the Russians but from the Latvians. Cheers of "LAT-VI-A" echoed throughout the rink and the stands lit up every time the Latvians got the puck. When they actually managed to squeeze off a shot (maybe one or two in the first) you'd think they just won the gold medal. There is no way these Latvians will finish dead last in the tournament.

Which was proven during the second when they held the Russians to only one goal. (A power play goal by Malkin assisted by Afinogenov and Kovalchuk. The lines were ludicrous.) The scoreboard entertainment had also been adjusted for the Olympics as a video "wack a mole" type game came up, with one of the Olympic mascots jumping from tree to tree attempting to fool everyone as to his whereabouts.

Yup. "Where's Muk Muk?" was quite the hit, as that l'il bugger managed to evade the collective detection of GM Place.

And the second intermission interview? None other than Russian legend and acting GM for the Russian Squad in Vancouver, Vladislav Aleksandrovich Tretiak. I explained to Pajikastan that this was the guy that backstopped the mighty Soviet Union for years. The guy that could routinely rob the likes of Phil Esposito, Wayne, and Mario. The great goalie that even Ma and Vlad The Dad had watched live in Moscow during the '72 Series. Talk about a true statesman. Leading a contemporary hockey Super Power into battle while bridging generational gaps as an afterthought. I had to stand and applaud.

The Latvians finally put some buckshot in the Russian Bear, early in the third. as Herberts Vasiljevs snuck one past Nabokov. The Latvians went crazy. Life in the stands had gotten positively jubilant for the Latvians. It was 4-1, with the Latvians all lit up. Perhaps we'd get a competitive game?

Absolutely nyet. As less than a minute later, and in true Jordan-esque domination, Ovechkin stormed right back to the other end of the ice and put one in the Latvian net. This probably was the biggest show of Goliath crushing David that GM Place had seen since MJ single handedly destroyed the Grizzlies in '96.

The Latvians seemed deflated. But only for a moment, as they rallied behind their squad again. After seeing this game, I would love to go boozing in Latvia. It seems like it would be a blast. You could drink Zelta and watch your hockey team lose for a week straight and have a blast the entire time.

The Russians didn't let up. Zaripov and Kovulchuk added to the lead. The rout was on. We sat back and just watched this squad warm up in the opener.

But those pesky Latvians didn't go quietly as Girts Ankipans managed to put another one past Nabokov. The place lost it. Pajikstan and I jumped for joy as well. These Latvians, despite being a small nation, sure are loud and proud. Even in the face of vastly superior skill and inevitable defeat. To say they wear their hearts on their jersey's is an understatement. I truly hope they make a case for themselves in this tourney.

Morozov put one in for good measure. Which was fitting as that's also the surname of relatives of ours. Way to go to Alexei for scoring one for the fam. This made it 8-2 with a minute left. We all cheered and counted down the final seconds. Cheers erupted. Flags waived. Cameras flashed. In true Olympic spirit, the two squads lined up and shook hands. They all raised their sticks and saluted the crowd. Pajikistan and I hung around and watched them exit the ice. Then did so ourselves.

Never mind, "Where's Muk Muk?"

Where fuk fuk were we?

A what had we just witnessed? We wound our way around of the concourse and stumbled like sailors down Granville St, still drunk on the fumes of international hockey, elite sportsmanship, unwavering national support, and a standout page written in the history and heritage of our fam's squad.