I had a good time watching the Vancouver Winter Olympics. A lot of exciting competitions, many inspiring athletes, a thousand and one stories.

Often during the competitions, in the early morning hours when CTV was repeating the events of the day before, I would switch over to NBC’s American coverage. It was good to get another view of things, and I was frequently amazed with the attention being paid there to Canadian athletes. As was happening on Canadian television, the US reporters often related the human interest side of our athletes, such as the story of Moguls Gold winning Alex Bilodeau’s brother Frederic. Frederic is Alex’s strongest supporter and his inspiration, while living with a severe handicap of cerebral palsy. US reporters were enthralled with the story of Joannie Rochette, competing in figure skating and winning the Bronze Medal despite her mother’s unexpected death only days before. Despite NBC’s understandable desire for the American team to win the men’s hockey gold, they often spoke with great respect about the Canadian team and about the unbelievable way Canadians were behind them.

Canada set a record with the fourteen gold medals, and although they failed to “own” the whole podium, toward the end of the games there were often comments that we had somehow won something even more important. Certainly more difficult to count and measure than fourteen medals, there seemed to be a feeling that, almost like Vimy Ridge, Canada had for the first time in decades made a historic step as a nation. I have little doubt that the world regards us as a nation, albeit a sometimes overly self-effacing one, but we have been terribly slow to realize that ourselves. We have far less pride than we should.

I don’t know if it will last or not. Already the Federal Government has fooled with the great flavor in the pot by stirring in a quickly withdrawn proposal to change the words of the national anthem– what a time to bring that up! As well as trying to polarize us on the issue of gender equality, it gives us glimpses of the anticipated next government steps of getting “God” out of it, then the references to “native” land.

Probably this seemingly newfound national pride was ready and waiting. Many say the Olympic Torch Run lit far more than the fuel mix. The Torch Run across Canada was unique for distance both in our history and in Olympic history. “Too much,” some early detractors offered. People would be bored with it; it would make a tedious trip in Steve Fonyo style over many months getting back to Vancouver.

Not so. Not since Terry Fox crossed into Ontario has their been so much attention to a Canadian trek. Somehow, the torch surpassed the dreams of the organizers. Time after time, torch bearers confessed to emotions beyond their expectations: trembling in the shuttle bus as they awaited their turn, hearing nothing of the crowds, being almost trance-like as they ran their short distance, being overcome with tears at its completion. While many of the bearers were media personalities and people connected to past Games, there were many inspiring stories along the way. People running as a kind of Olympic dream fulfillment that had escaped them in the past, people running with their minds on others, like the BC woman who ran for her sister– accepted as a torch bearer the year before and felled by cancer only months before the run. The torch run had thousands of stories, each unique, each meaningful, some to the bearer alone, some to the entire nation. No doubt a chronicle of torch run highlights would be an interesting read.

That seemed to ignite things, no pun intended, and it went from there. While the weather was problem through much of the games, they managed– the crazy trucking and helicoptering of snow did the job, and the events went on. The death of the Georgian luger just hours before the opening ceremony set everyone back on their heels, but after due respect they moved on. If nothing else, it indicated to everyone that this was not Ping-Pong. In many of the events, as athletes fought for hundredths of a second, or did amazing twisting double, triple flips and rolls high in the air, as they pushed themselves to physical limits that one speed skater described as “tasting blood in your mouth over the entire last lap” (and that not imagery), there was danger shadowing many of their runs.

But the crowds. Even the NBC commented that they had never seen crowds behaving like these at Olympic Games. We heard little in the news of significant troubles in the streets, although partying and celebrating apparently went on through the nights. The multi-million dollar security efforts that took place did so completely behind the scenes. Fans were largely left to “behave themselves”, and for the most part they did so, and they did far more, particularly as Canadians. “O Canada”, despite its apparently politically incorrect lyrics, could be heard breaking out at any time, whether at an event, in a club, or just in the streets of Vancouver or Whistler. Curlers scratched their heads when the thousands in the stands failed to behave like curing fans were supposed to: sit quietly and whisper among themselves when shots were being made, like good golf spectators at the Masters. Instead, they cheered, they waved Canadian flags (and many others), they did The Wave, and, most unexpectedly, they broke out into O Canada at a moment’s notice, leaving curlers waiting on the ice, sometimes unable to hear the instructions of the Skip, sometimes uncertain if they should be playing on, or standing to attention.

And it wasn’t just the fans on-site. In arenas, in theatres, in homes, Canadians gathered to watch the Games. When the puck dropped for the men’s Gold Medal Hockey game, almost 17 million watched in Canada, making it the most watched television event in Canadian history.

Was it just sports? Just a slow winter with a welcome break? Or something larger? We may only know when the next step comes. Many feel it was a coming of age, a realization by Canadians that we had much to be proud of, that we were as good as the best, and, more importantly, that we had the right to say so. Famous for being apologetic, reserved, timid– whatever!– games fans seemed to break that mold, at least for the moment, and waved, shouted, cheered, and sang with no restraint. It’s still going on as athletes return to their towns and cities and are heralded by friends and families.

I wonder if politicians sometimes sat back, scratched their heads, and wondered, “What if they turn on us?” What indeed?

“With Glowing Hearts” was right on!

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