Most Canadians have grown up only being told of the glory of the Summit Series.
Sure, we’ve seen the highlights and we know the stories. Bobby Clarke breaking Valeri Kharlamov’s leg with a slash. Paul Henderson — “HENDERSON!” — scoring the winning goal for Canada.
But unless you were of a certain age at the time, the 1972 meeting between a Canadian team of NHL stars and the Soviet Big Red Machine is a little hard to grasp. Why did everyone care quite so much about an eight-game exhibition?
It is easier to understand now.
This isn’t the Cold War, and a symbolic clash between Western democracy and Eastern authoritarianism, but the 4 Nations Face-Off has, completely unexpectedly, landed in a moment of heightened geopolitical tensions.
When the tournament was drawn up, a Canada-USA final was widely anticipated, and it was supposed to have great hockey storylines. Connor McDavid versus Auston Matthews. Brad Marchand versus Matthew Tkachuk. Connor Hellebuyck versus whoever the Canadians could find to play in goal.
Thursday night’s final still has all that, but it also feels like so much more. Canadian fans have been lustily booing “The Star Spangled Banner.” Some Americans have been sniping that it is disrespectful. Others have reasonably pointed out that, given the actions of the American president in recent months, what exactly do you expect Canadians to do? Clap politely as Donald Trump breaks trade agreements he signed, tries to wreck the economy of his closest ally, and repeatedly threatens to make Canada a 51st state?
Trump has been at turns arrogant toward, obnoxious about, and dismissive of his neighbour. For weeks he has been kicking sand in Canada’s face. And for one night at least, the country’s best hockey players have a chance to metaphorically hoof the schoolyard bully right in the nuggets.
A proud nation is quite excited at the possibility.
That this should be happening at the 4 Nations Face-Off is kind of hilarious. It’s a goofy mini-tournament that was created to address the fact that no one cares about the NHL All-Star Game anymore. It has only four teams, Sweden and Finland joining Canada and the United States, because the NHL didn’t want to invite Russia, the pariah state to which Trump seemingly aspires. The teams are playing for an unnamed trophy that didn’t exist until a week ago, and it’s unlikely to be ever handed out again, because the NHL plans to hold a real World Cup in 2028, which if nothing else seems to be an optimistic read of the political landscape in four years’ time.
It was supposed to be a little dollop of real best-on-best hockey for the first time since the NHL skipped the Olympics after Sochi 2014, a chance for guys like McDavid and Matthews to fire pucks in anger for their countries for the first time since they were kids, and a chance for veterans to showcase themselves for possible inclusion when NHL players return to the Winter Games next year. (Sidney Crosby: Yes.)
It was, in other words, not really supposed to matter.
But tell that to the players, and especially the Canadian fans, now. Whatever happens in Boston on Thursday night, the lasting image of this tournament will be the raucous Canadian anthem in Montreal on Saturday night. A Quebec crowd singing “O Canada” with all the passion and heart of, well, anywhere else in Canada. Donald Trump, unifier?
Those of us who weren’t alive in 1972 have still had our moments with Team Canada when the result felt like everything. I watched the 1987 Canada Cup, and the Gretzky-to-Lemieux goal, on a cottage TV with grainy reception. I watched the 1992 Olympic final on the edge of a hotel bed in Georgia, and accidentally woke my sleeping, pregnant wife when Paul Kariya scored the opener after Mario Lemieux let the puck pass between his legs. Years later, I frightened a child who was sitting on me when I leapt from the couch after Jerome Iginla found Crosby in the slot for the golden goal at Vancouver 2010.
But those were all hockey moments. Sometimes in those instances it has felt like Canada’s identity was on the line because Canada’s identity is being good at hockey.
But Donald Trump has awoken something else. There is the empirical data, polls and such, that suggest Canadian patriotism is having a moment. But there is also just the vibes. You can feel it in the speeches and rallies, and in the Buy Canadian stickers and, yes, the commercials in which the quick-thinking businesses are trying to capitalize on said vibes. But you can also feel it in talking to family and friends, everyday people who never expected they would have to consider, in 2025, what it means to be Canadian. Those wars were fought, and won.
But America is shoving us around. The neighbour to whom we are always quickest to send help, where we visit, and spend winters, and our money, has decided, thanks to its leader, that Canadians are just a people to be absorbed into a new state of the union. A big Delaware.
Canadians are rightly angry. And for a moment, some hockey players can punch back.
It’s just a game, of course. But you will excuse us if we feel like it is something more.