There is a photo in Pique’s archives that has found its way to print repeatedly over the years.
It depicts Pique’s art director Jon Parris during the 2010 Olympic Winter Games in Whistler, wearing hockey gloves, a helmet and a full red track suit, arms raised high in triumph as a crowd of thousands celebrates Team Canada’s hockey gold in Whistler’s Village Square.
Taken by longtime local photographer Brad Kasselman, the image is nothing short of iconic here at Pique, both for its main subject and the transcendent moment in Canadian history it represents.
Those who were in Whistler for the Games will likely remember JP. His “Captain Canada” persona—red track suit, faux medals, massive Canadian flag, enthusiastic high kicks—was a fixture at local events during the 2010 Olympics and made headlines near and far.
But where did the enthusiasm for Canada stem from?
“It has to do with love,” JP said in a 2010 interview with Pique.
“I think Canadians are some of the most understanding and compassionate people in the world. We have a reputation for acceptance and multiculturalism. The world would be such a better place if we all just had a little more respect, understanding and love for each other—something I think Canada is a world leader in.”
Well said, JP.
If you can remember it, Canadian pride was at fever pitch during the 2010 Games, and specifically immediately following Sidney Crosby’s gold-medal-winning OT goal—the moment immortalized in Kasselman’s photo.
But in recent years, the very concept has taken a bit of a hit.
Case in point: Feeling the latent national pride of 2010 surging from somewhere deep in his (presumably loose given all those high kicks) loins, JP once again donned the red track suit during the 2022 Olympic Winter Games, held this time in Beijing, China, for a rip around the Whistler Valley on his e-bike.
But he found the cheers and love that followed him through the 2010 Games was replaced by something different: jeers, dirty looks, and the occasional honking horn or middle finger.
As it happened, the 2022 Games occurred at roughly the same time as the notorious “Freedom Convoy” set up in Ottawa in protest of COVID-19 restrictions.
Suddenly, showing outward pride for Canada meant something very different than it did just 12 years earlier.
Two and a half years later, the matter of Canadian pride is still murky.
Another case in point: Pique’s office manager Heidi Rode has proudly flown a Canadian flag outside her home in Whistler for 15 years—only recently has it attracted sideways glances from passersby and comments from neighbours.
It is true we live in complicated, nuanced times. But we are complex beings capable of feeling and doing many things at once. Being proud of Canada need not come saddled with confusion and shame. Yet that’s where we stand on Canada Day 2024.
It’s a difficult topic to write about, partially for the very fact JP references above. Canada is as diverse a nation as they come, so how can one perspective possibly hope to understand or represent all the lived experiences making up the fabric of our country?
How do you define being Canadian in 2024? Was there ever an easy definition?
If ever there were some close approximation, it was likely on display June 24 in Sunrise, Fla.
If you watched Game 7 between the Oilers and Panthers, you must have felt it, too—when the visiting Canadian fans drowned out Alanis Morisette’s rendition of O’ Canada (and finished well ahead of her); when generational Canadian talent Connor McDavid broke a literal Wayne Gretzky record en route to earning playoff MVP, despite losing the Stanley Cup; or when Panthers coach Paul Maurice (another Canadian) gave one of the most impactful on-ice victory interviews ever.
“Hey dad, your name’s going up with all your heroes—Beliveau, Richard, Howe, Lindsay… Maurice,” he said, speaking to the camera and holding back the emotions clearly on the verge of overtaking him (the Habs fan in me might be showing on this last example, but hot damn that’s a nice quote).
It only got better—Maurice ended the interview with this all-timer about his former team:
“If I could have one thing more, it would be for the Winnipeg Jets to win the next Stanley Cup.”
What a Canadian thing to say (and how the hell can you not be romantic about hockey?).
Some argue you shouldn’t bandwagon Canadian hockey teams solely for the sake they’re Canadian, but I’ve never bought into that. I fanned the Flames on their miracle run in ’04, backed the Oil in ’06 and the Sens in ’07. I was extra devastated when the Canucks lost in ’11, because that was the year Zdeno Chara broke Max Pacioretty’s neck, escalating the Habs/Bruins rivalry to bloody proportions.
I was of course sweating bullets for the entirety of the Canadiens’ Cinderella run to the Finals in 2021, and was pulling strongly for the Oilers to finally end Canada’s cup curse this year.
As we now know, it was not meant to be. But watching your hockey team lose the big game in heartbreaking fashion is surely about as Canadian as it gets at this point.
But then they’re awarding the cup, and you see the pure elation of these guys, and something about it just makes you feel like a kid again. Suddenly you feel an odd source of pride for these sweaty men you’ve never met; get subtly emotional watching a bunch of loud, cursing louts pass a big silver bowl amongst themselves while cheesy inspirational music plays over the arena loudspeakers.
It’s easy to be cynical about this stuff—call it phony, or pointless propaganda fodder—but it’s just as easy to relate to the underlying humanity (the Canadianness) if you’re open to it.
Strip away all the BS gambling ads and over-commercialization, and it’s still the same game it always was—the one that united us coast to coast every Saturday night, or every four years at the Olympics; gave a fledgling country some foundation on which to build an identity.
The foundation may be challenged these days, but it’s still there, as long as we say it is; still feel it underneath our feet.
So don’t let anyone tell you different. Fly the red and white proudly this Canada Day. Wear your red track suit and high kick for Canada. We’re all in this together, whether we like it or not.
Maybe Canada’s favourite hockey philosopher, the great Ron MacLean, said it best himself prior to Game 7: “When are we most Canadian? When we drop the puck.”
