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Hockey isn鈥檛 what it used to be. In 1972 in Canada听鈥� the last time a hockey series carried with it the weight of a political adversary, in that case the former Soviet Union听鈥� we were a sporting monoculture. Hockey defined who we were to the world. Fifty plus years later, we now export famous writers, fine soccer midfielders, great basketball stars, global hip hop artists and Celine Dion. Our spirit isn鈥檛 only found in centres from Flin Flon, goalies from Humboldt听鈥� more so with female stars asserting themselves on the landscape听鈥� so the chances that a hockey tournament in 2025 would be as important as past events were, at first, low.

But with Donald Trump鈥檚 threat of invasion and his MAGA clan lathered in grandstanding anti-Canadian rhetoric听鈥� opinions sadly echoed by homegrown athletes like PK Subban听鈥� suddenly everyone in Canada was pulling in the same direction, an even more impressive phenomenon considering recent political divides and rural vs urban regional distrust. In a nation so large, disparate and fractured, it鈥檚 rare when people in Dartmouth, Nova Scotia cheer for players born in Mississauga, or fans of, say, the Calgary Flames root for arch-nemesis鈥� from Edmonton. But like notorious Hab fan and actor Jay Baruchel tweeted after Canada鈥檚 ecstatic opening game win over Sweden: 鈥淚 can鈥檛 believe I鈥檓 cheering for (Maple Leaf) Mitch Marner.鈥澨�

In today鈥檚 swim of change听鈥� governments, and their leaders, coming in and out; the shifting tides of global economies and regimes; Trump鈥檚 unpredictability听鈥� it鈥檚 okay to have a few things that we can count on to bring us together, dodging trends and the fickle nature of the world.

And while it鈥檚 hard to make too much of hockey鈥檚 cultural and societal glue without sounding like an apologist for a game troubled by abusive climates, an anti-LGBTQ agenda (in 2023, the NHL suspended any Pride imagery from its games), and a traditional, elite white athletic body, the game can still comfort us like an old cottage blanket.

Because we鈥檙e a winter nation, skating has always been one of the ways that we鈥檝e confronted,听 and embraced, the cold, and hockey, even NHL hockey, is an extension of that. It鈥檚 our sporting lingua franca, and even those who don鈥檛 play or don鈥檛 care have been drawn to this event partly because they see what it means to those who do, and partly because, at a time when Canada is threatened by Trump, these games are ways in which we can stand up for ourselves and be seen, united and defiant after playing in the world鈥檚 margins.

Crowds booed the 鈥淪tar Spangled Banner.鈥� Three American players dropped gloves and challenged three Canadians to fight in the first nine seconds of their round robin game. Viewership was unprecedented in both countries听鈥� particularly in the USA, which showed record-setting numbers听鈥� and even my friend Mohammed, from Empire Falafel, whose tv screen shows African and Middle Eastern soccer games, expressed excitement for the final game, telling me he鈥檇 be tuning in to see Canada 鈥済ive it to those bad guys down south.鈥�

Trudging around through the snow in my neighbourhood a few hours before the final, I nodded at people in Leaf and Team Canada toques and scarves, our gloves pushed deep into the pockets of our coats. It was past dinner hour and even the grey sky possessed a steely beauty. These games changed the way we looked, the way we felt.

And when Connor McDavid scored in overtime on a dish from Mitch Marner, no one felt better than us.听

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