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Viewpoint: Canada found at the rink

The lack of uniquely Canadian traditional experiences is one of this country's greatest strengths and one of its core weaknesses.
Rink

The lack of uniquely Canadian traditional experiences is one of this country's greatest strengths and one of its core weaknesses.

In a nation where the indigenous population is a small minority, where both the English and the French shared the European settlement of the land and then opened the country to immigrants from across the world, the people and the culture are hopelessly diversified. On one hand, that makes Canadians global citizens but on the other, it denies us unique traditions of songs and experiences common from coast to coast to coast but nowhere else in the world.

Our vast geography also separates us from one another. Surveys have found a majority of adult Canadians can't name every province and territory or locate them on a map. Few people are fortunate enough to visit Nunavut or even know someone who lives there.

Even the maple leaf on the flag comes from a tree mostly found in Ontario and Quebec. Maple syrup drawn directly from a tree is a Canadian tradition impossible to experience in much of Canada. Farewell to Nova Scotia is perhaps Canada's best known folk song outside of the national anthem. Everyone in the Maritimes can sing it but no one else knows it.

Maybe Canada's best known song outside of the national anthem is actually Stompin' Tom Connors's The Hockey Song or perhaps Neil Diamond's Sweet Caroline. Both enjoyed significant audience participation on Sunday night at Rolling Mix Concrete Arena during the thrilling Game 7 victory by the Prince George Spruce Kings over the Surrey Eagles.

Sports bring many countries together and hockey certainly has done its part to unite (and divide) Canadians over the decades but that hold is not what it once was. Canada's team was once a title both shared and contested by the Montreal Canadiens and the Toronto Maple Leafs. Without a Stanley Cup win in Canada since 1993 (Canadian teams are 0-5 in Stanley Cup finals since then, two of those by the Canucks, and four out of the five - again two by the Canucks - in a heartbreaking Game 7), any team north of the border that gets to play in June would be adopted as Canada's team.

Yet there was something special and Canadian about Sunday's game at the old Coliseum.

Virtually every Canadian community, even the ones in the high Arctic, with more than 2,000 people in them has one or more old hockey barns in them. They're all the same, with their wooden bench seats, the overhead heaters, the Zamboni, the vintage scoreboards, the crappy sound systems where no one can understand a word the announcer says except for the name of the team, the vintage banners in the rafters, the historic team photos on the concourse, the tar-like coffee and greasy burgers from the concession, the rubber mats on the floors leading to the ice and the aroma of sweaty equipment drifting out from the dressing rooms.

Whether they can seat 2,000 or just 200, these rinks hold one of the few truly Canadian experiences. Sure, there are little, old arenas across the northern U.S. and in northern Europe and Russia but they aren't spread far and wide throughout those nations.

Most importantly, rinks aren't large, modern arenas, like Roger's Arena in Vancouver or even CN Centre in Prince George. Their size makes the rink experience intimate, both for players and fans.

With only a handful of spectators, a hockey rink makes sounds only heard in those places - the scrape of metal blades on the ice, the shouts for a pass, the thunk of pucks hitting the boards, the clang of shots off the post, the thud of hard checks, the clatter of a puck off the glass, the complaining from the bench to the referees, the encouragement from coaches and parents.

When the rink is full, those sounds endure, even over a boisterous crowd, along with the collective ohs of a near goal, the boos towards the refs, the shouts of joy when the home team scores.

On Sunday night, that crammed and noisy downtown Prince George rink could just as easily have been in Yellowknife or Whitehorse or Swift Current or Medicine Hat or Flin Flon or Sault Ste. Marie or Rimouski or Oromocto or Goose Bay, their names, their rinks and their experiences all uniquely Canadian.

Local residents don't need to know a single player on the Spruce Kings when they take to the ice Friday and Saturday night (although it would be nice if they did) and they don't even need to know who they're playing (the Powell River Kings) or what's on the line (the winner of this series will play either Wenatchee or Trail for the B.C. Hockey League championship and the Fred Page Cup).

Heck, they don't even need to give a hoot about hockey (Gord Downie had something to say about those people).

Come out Friday and Saturday for one of those rare moments to feel Canadian, to be Canadian and be with Canadians. That's a feeling that never gets old and is always special.

-- Editor-in-chief Neil Godbout, Prince George Citizen

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