1972 Summit Series
Sports are not my writing “niche.”
I know enough about hockey, football, baseball, soccer, tennis and golf to get by, and that’s good enough for me.
In my second semester of first year journalism, one of our instructors taught us about covering beats, like music, entertainment, business and yes, sports.
As a class we watched the Canada vs. USSR 1972 Summit Series hockey game, and were told to write about what the game meant.
I’m quite proud of the piece I wrote, and decided to post it on my blog.
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They weren’t just playing hockey.
With 34 seconds left in the third period of the eighth game, the Soviets played for acceptance and validation while the Canadians played for freedom, patriotism and identity in the USSR vs. Canada 1972 Summit Series hockey game.
It was a mental, athletic and historic battle fought with sticks instead of guns that pitted democracy and communism against one another in an epitomic ideological war.
And that is why it mattered.
Canada’s win was reclamation of Canadian identity and a confirmation that Canadian life was a successful way of life, a sense of validation that lingers to this day.
“It was a war, our society vs. theirs,” said Phil Esposito, Team Canada’s undisputed leader throughout the series, according to www.1972summitseries.com.
In fact, it mattered so much, that on Sept. 28, Canadian society essentially shut down to watch Game 8, the tiebreaker game being played in Moscow, the final game.
Each side had won three games respectively and had tied one: the game itself and everything it stood for relied on Game 8.
The Summit On Ice 30th Anniversary DVD released in 2002 documented the series.
“[But] it wasn’t just another series. It was the series,” said Canadian Frank Mahovlich on the DVD that captures the events now entrenched as an iconic part of Canadian history.
“It turned out to be more than just a hockey series. A lot of pride came into play — pride in yourself, pride in your team, pride in your country,” said Ed Johnston, one of Canada’s goal tenders, according to www.1972summitseries.com.
And pride for your identity.
Teamwork, determination and independence were what Canada stood for, elements accentuated by the game and thus components of a lifestyle that were put on the line, a solid red line.
Canada’s struggle over the decades for victory in the Olympics and the failure to reclaim her world title made the game a game of redemption.
Because only amateurs were allowed to play in the Olympics and professional Soviet players were considered amateurs, Canadian players were constantly put at a disadvantage.
But that didn’t matter this time.
With 34 seconds left in the third period of the eighth game, what commentator Foster Hewitt described as “the goal heard around the world” put an end to the Summit Series.
What may have been a conclusion was a rebirth to others and, as Canadian player Guy Lapointe put it, an unforgettable moment.
“Who says nothing lasts forever? This series will.”
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@HayleyWoodin
Lake Cowichan
When the weather gets warmer and the days get longer, it means that pageant season has finally arrived.
This weekend I travelled to Vancouver Island to take part in the Lake Cowichan Lady of the Lake pageant with my fellow B.C. Ambassadors.
We caught an afternoon ferry on Friday so we would have time to get ready for the gala that evening. The dress was formal as usual, and the ball was held in the Lake Cowichan community hall. The dinner was catered, and the hall was beautifully decorated.
Because it was an island pageant and most of the ambassador programs are in the Interior, only royalty from Nanaimo, Lower Nicola Indian Band, Ladysmith and Lytton got to enjoy the candidates’ fashion show, speeches and evening gown walk.
The retiring royalty said their goodbyes, the visiting royalty gave their speeches and program coordinators took countless photographs.
After the 5 hour event, we went back to the Nanaimo house we were staying at to get some sleep.
Saturday morning was the parade, and the three of us rode in style: a red covertible Mercedes thank you very much.
My girls and I unfortunately suffered some sunburns. Ever heard of a farmer’s tan? Well we each had a much dreaded sash-tan…
Lunch was next, and then the Lady of the Lake crowning. We then toodled around the town for a bit, checking out the Lake Days’ festivities and snapping photos.
After an off-duty barbecue and a relaxing night of pageantry talk, we took a morning ferry back to the mainland.
Luckily, I live about 40 minutes from the mainland ferry terminal. My two ambassadors had a bit of a longer drive home: Miranda lives in Vernon and Anna in Williams Lake, both in B.C.’s Interior.
The Cranbrook and Castlegar pageants are next in line, but my next trip will be to Osoyoos on June 30.
Pictures and info on the British Columbia Ambassador Program can be found at www.bcambassador.com.
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@HayleyWoodin
Strange Encounters of the Eight-Legged Kind
Arachnophobia is an irrational fear of spiders, and that is exactly what I have.
Friends and family can vouch for the intensity of my phobia: my encounters with the creepy creatures are always met with hyperventilation, shrill shrieks or hysteric sobs. No matter the size, spiders scare the heck out of me.
But why?
After all, like my parents always tell me, they are just spiders, harmless little eight-legged insects that are at best 0.01% of my size.
I can distinctly remember my first encounter with the culprits…
I was quite young at the time, and we were having a family barbecue at my house with my dad’s relatives. I was quietly swinging on my swing in our backyard, eating a snack, when from up above came a spider, slipping down a single silky thread and stopping right in front of my face. (The nursery rhyme Little Miss Muffet actually happened to me!)
Ever since that day, I have always been spooked by spiders, and have always carefully inspected any swing set before swinging.
Fast forward several years to today and here I was, standing in my room, petrified as a laid eyes upon a loonie-sized spider on my wall.
Generally, I yell for someone to come and help me, but my mom and sister were out and my dad was in the basement. Of course, killing it myself wasn’t an option, but leaving the room wasn’t either: I wouldn’t want to come back and not be able to find it.
So after 20 long minutes of panicking, I decided I had to swallow my fear and squash the ugly thing by myself.
But how?
My first plan was to grab a bath towel and smother it, but that involved getting too close to the enemy, and would result in the loss of a towel.
I then thought of stomping it to death with a gumboot, but I wasn’t sure I could kick that high.
I considered paralysing it with hairspray, killing it with Raid, smacking it with a spatula, poking it with a broom handle and swatting it with my B.C. Lions’ foam bear paw.
And as I continued to contemplate my various options, the spider began to scurry away towards my dresser, where I wouldn’t be able to reach it. So I acted fast.
I squished it with my towel, screaming the whole time and pressing firmly. I let the towel drop to the floor, where the spider made a break for under my bed. I repeatedly stomped on it with the gumboot, and then “shouted it out” with some Shout spray for good measure.
The adrenaline rush was too much to handle, so I fled the scene leaving my three weapons of choice strewn across my bedroom floor.
This was the first time in a very long time that I have actually had the guts to kill a spider. And in a way, I am quite proud of myself.
But next time, I think I’ll leave the whole confronting-your-fears thing to someone else.
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@HayleyWoodin
Licensed to Drive
The number “two” has always been my favourite number, so it makes sense that it would take me two tries to successfully pass my N road test.
My first attempt was about a month ago, where I did a fairly acceptable job of both driving and parking. It wasn’t until I drove on the wrong side of the road that I began to think that maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t quite prepared to operate a motor vehicle all by myself.
In my defence, it wasn’t as though I swerved over into oncoming traffic: I know I’m supposed to keep to the right. The situation was much more complex than that. Basically, I turned into the wrong lane because the right and left lanes were separated by a forested median, and I simply could not see the other lane.
I was also quite nervous, hadn’t had much driving practice and I merely turned up the road I thought my examiner had told me to take.
The exam didn’t last much longer after my potentially fatal mistake, (luckily there weren’t any cars in the lane): the man grading me was more than a little bit shaken up.
But now, a month later and a month wiser, I have successfully passed my N test, and can legally drive solo.
I am now officially licensed to drive, which for me, considering my previous misshap, could mean I’m licensed to kill…
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@HayleyWoodin
Community Leader Awards
I booked Tuesday night off work so I could attend the 8th Annual Community Leader Awards held at the Surrey Arts Centre.
Two very important women in my life, Debbie and Donna, were being honoured at the reception for all of their hard work in running the White Rock Youth Ambassador Program, also known as the Miss White Rock Pageant.
They have helped dozens of youth over the years find their strengths, improve their self-esteem, acquire public speaking skills, and hone their etiquette and social skills. Having gone through the program, (Miss White Rock 2008), I can’t even begin to describe the impact they have both had on my life.
So I went to the reception, flowers in hand, to show my gratitude.
Now, both Debbie and Donna are full-grown women with kids in their 20s. Needless to say, it was a bit surprising to all of us when they received an honourable mention in the youth category.
But with all of the poise, dignity and grace they’d taught me and my fellow ambassadors back when I was a part of the WRYA, they accepted their award on stage, along with a six-year-old, and two high school students.
Ah, to be young.
Congratulations Debbie and Donna!
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@HayleyWoodin
Tourist in your own Town
I’ve lived all of my life a mere 40 minutes away from Vancouver, and yet I’ve hardly spent any time there.
Sure when I was younger I did the typical tourist-y Vancouver things like biking the Stanley Park seawall, exploring Science World and visiting the Vancouver Aquarium. But for the most part, these were all attractions experienced through elementary school fieldtrips.
This fact has spawned two important realizations.
First, it dawned on me the importance of educational fieldtrips, especially for children and youth. For the average young family, it may not be financially or logistically convenient to spend weekends and evenings at places like the Space Center or the Vancouver Art Gallery.
But Vancouver’s wide array of exhibitions not only provide information sometimes not covered in public school curriculums, young minds also get to learn about and experience their city and province.
Fieldtrips are also a different learning style, offering a more hands-on immersive learning environment than the typical textbook method. And honestly, they are just tons of fun.
My second realization, was that we really ought to spend time getting to know where we live more intimately; that is to say, culturally and historically.
I spent yesterday being a tourist in my own town of Vancouver, something I really haven’t done before, barring the Winter Olympics.
A friend and I went to the Space Center and Planetarium, the Burnaby Museum, the Museum of Vancouver, the Vancouver Art Gallery, Stanley Park and the Dr. Sun Yat-Sen Gardens.
I learned a lot about the history of Vancouver, and realized how culturally rich this city is. No wonder it was named “Top City of the Americas” in the 2009 Readers’ Choice Awards in the Condé Nast Traveler magazine, or the world’s “Most Liveable City” in 2005 according to the Economist Intelligence Unit, or was a Top 100 World Destination pick in Trip Advisor’s 2008 Traveller’s Choice Awards.
My yesterday was spent learning and experiencing and simply living. It was like being a little kid again (especially when I rode the Burnaby Museum’s carousel). And for that, I am thankful.
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@HayleyWoodin