Don't worry. We weren't killed, kidnapped, or kicked off the bandwagon

We got to watch the last couple of games on swanky big-screen tvs with decent sound-systems this week. Of course, this is due to the fact that we're babysitting our aunt's cat. Who who does his business in a Red Wings-themed bonus room I could only dream of having. Underneath a picture of Sergei Fedorov, which I mention only because I don't think I could use the bathroom while I was looking at Sergei Fedorov. That just seems awkward.

But as awful as this sounds, I don't really want to talk about the Red Wings right now. And here's why:

It's not really a secret to the people who know me that I have a hard time relating to the United States as an institution. It has to do with the fact that, being such a huge and hugely diverse country, there's room in the definition of 'American' for everything and everything's exact opposite, and it always seems to be the people opposite of me who try to speak for me on behalf of the entire country. It means that for most of my life, there's been a disconnect between me and my native land, with nothing for me to really hold onto. That, and the fact that I only live about twenty minutes from the border and spent a solid quarter of my childhood across it, meant that I would have been pretty happy with the Canadians winning World Juniors tonight.

But it was the US in overtime, after a spectacular, fast-paced game of amazingness, and when the team sang the Star Spangled Banner (horribly, but it was awesome), I had something in this country to connect to, and I felt more like an American than I probably ever had. I'd hardly heard of any of those guys before New Year's eve, but they felt like my team. I was a bundle of emotions.

And then I had to turn back to the Wings game, which after that sort of felt like a regular season game played on California ice against one of my least favorite teams where I don't even get to make fun of Chris Pronger and half my team was injured and we weren't in the playoffs if they started today and the Wings were down two goals half-way through the second and I could scream "WELL IF TODD BERTUZZI AND TOMAS HOLMSTROM CAN'T SCORE ON HILLER TONIGHT THEN THIS GAME IS ALREADY OVER" at the television and not be sarcastic at all.

Because... that's what it was.

And given my choice between the two, I'd much rather be thinking about the badassery that is the World Juniors Battle Cry. (No, seriously, you should watch that.)



(ETA: Apparently this victory was just important enough to be featured on ESPN's website until the next blurb of football news came up, when it disappeared forever. So nevermind, I hate America again.)