There are two types of overtime losses, and only two. The first would best be described as a steel-toed boot to the groin that seemingly comes out of nowhere and leaves the receiver in a pain-filled stupor for hours, and possibly days, afterwards. The other is somewhat similar, but at least you knew where it was coming from and can have a bit of admiration for the kicker’s form and follow-through. I’ve been through both and I’m here to say that Sunday’s gold medal game between Canada and the U.S. falls, without a doubt, into the second category. The reason? I saw what the first category was like live and in person.

Nineteen ninety eight nine. Anaheim, California. The NCAA Frozen Four Championship Game between the University of New Hampshire Wildcats and the UMaine Black Bears. UNH has Hobey Baker Award winner Jason Krog, a phenom goalie named Ty Conklin, and an array of goal scorers that swept over opponents that year like locusts. UMaine had a tough goalie with the nickname “Alfie”, and yet another Kariya (back when they seemed to crank them off an assembly line every four or five years). I was there and watched two goalies absorb an ungodly amount of shots through three periods before heading into overtime. I knew we were going to win this game – there was no way that UMaine geek could continue to stand on his head and get lucky at that level, it just wasn’t possible. Overtime hits, UMaine gets a breakaway and launches a tough shot… and it slide by Conklin high. Game over. I stood there staring at the ice for a good ten minutes without doing much except swearing occasionally and wondering what the hell just happened. That’s a pain you don’t forget any time soon.

Canada beating the U.S. doesn’t really register in the same way, mostly because they were acknowledged to have the better roster from the get-go. The Americans were hanging around, playing tough, and leaning on a goalie who was doing everything right. That’s a great formula for a Disney movie, but it doesn’t always work so well in real life. Sure, Sidney Crosby skating in for that overtime goal was enough to give me flashbacks, but it wasn’t nearly the same ballshot as that game twelve years ago. Maybe it’s because I’d spent four years watching UNH hockey and bleeding blue and white, while Olympic hockey shows up every four years for a couple weeks.

What makes sudden death overtime so painful is also what makes it so entertaining – you never know what will happen. Everything is on the table. It could come down to a skillful play that has been practiced a thousand times, or it could be nothing more than dumb luck. The losers will always gripe about not having a fair chance and the winners will always celebrate and possibly know they escaped by nothing more than the faintest hint of fate. It’s all or nothing with the stakes elevating the emotions of everyone involved. It’s a catharsis of a kind – better for some than others.

So a delayed congratulations to the Canadian team for bringing home the gold, and congratulations to the U.S. for making them sweat a bit more than anyone thought possible. Now, is there any way we can get the NHL to play 20 minutes of hockey straight, without commercial interruption?

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