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Getting off the underground, and also in the Rogoredo area, I meet spectators from the previous match, many more Swiss than French. There is practically no queue for the shuttle bus: I get on straight away and even find a seat. The queue for security checks is also quick: I see that they have confiscated several long umbrellas. I usually carry a folding one in my rucksack and have never had any problems, but this time I didn't have my rucksack with me.
You see
many more Czechs than Canadians, but also Finns, Slovaks, Americans and
Germans. Or better: people wearing the jerseys of their respective teams—some
of whom, I later heard, were actually Italian. The most common jersey is
Cosby’s, but there are also classic ones, from Gretsky to (especially) Jagr. In
the stands, there are a few more Canadians than it seemed from outside, but the
Czechs clearly outnumber them. You can tell by the cheering: as the Canadian
team enters, they receive more boos than applause, and at least for the first
two periods, whenever the Canadians try to start a chant, they are overwhelmed by the Czechs.
I’m on the
same side as yesterday, just in the opposite corner and two rows higher. Around
me, there are a few more Canadians than Czechs. Behind me, there’s an American
and a Finn, who will talk almost the whole time, even about Italy-Sweden:
they’ll say that Italy’s strength is in the coach. The match starts, and in the
first period, Czechs attack from my side. The play is very, very physical (really hard hits), definitely more so than yesterday. In the 8th minute,
Canada scores on a fastbreak, but the goal is disallowed for an earlier
foul, which results in a penalty. The Czechs gain confidence and, after an
initial Canadian dominance, the match becomes more balanced. However, with five
seconds left in the period, Canada takes the lead with a shot from outside,
angled into the net.
During the
first intermission, I think I’ll only be out for a short while, but I step outside
into the courtyard (where I even see Qatari police officers—who knows what
they’re doing at the Olympics) and make the ill-fated decision to get myself a
coffee, which turns out not even to be that good: the wait is long, so I return
to my seat when the second period has already been going for 53 seconds (but at
least there haven’t been any goals yet). Canada attacks a bit more, even though
the shots on goal will remain even, and after six minutes they score a scrappy
goal, which I don’t see clearly because I’m busy following the speed skating
results, where just seconds later Lollobrigida would win gold. With 2 minutes
30 seconds to go in the period, the Canadian Horvat picks up the puck in his
own half, goes the length of the ice and scores, yet two assists are awarded:
for a layman like me, that seems odd, even though I know that in hockey, the
concept of an assist is broader than in soccer or basketball.
In the
second intermission, I visit the section where I’ll be watching the women’s final
(and later I’ll also see a men’s semi-final, exactly one row above my seat
today): I discover that it’s exactly on the opposite side. This time, though, I
manage to get back well before play resumes. In the third period, Canada runs
away with it: they score twice more (and I can’t even tell where the last goal
went in, not even on the replay), while the Czechs are never dangerous. From
4-0 onwards, you can only hear the Canadian supporters; only in the last few
minutes do the Czechs try to rally, but there are only a few of them left. With
three or four minutes to go, the arena starts to empty.
It ends
5-0, but unlike the other matches I’d seen so far, the count of shots on goal
is more balanced than the scoreline: 36-26, and for much of the third period it
was almost even. As soon as I leave, I connect to Discovery to catch the end of
the luge relay, where we win bronze. The queue for the shuttles is shorter than
usual. I already have to head for Livigno for tomorrow’s snowboard cross.
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