The Mouse and the Elephant.

I wanted to write something in response to a book review that E did over at A Theory Of Ice the other day. Now, I’m pretty sure I’ve told her in the past how much I like her writing, and how unique and welcome I think her perspective is, possibly to the point that any more effusive praise will make me sound a little creepy, so she shouldn’t take this as a criticism of her own review.

The book in question is, (surprise!) The Tropic of Hockey. I can’t argue with her own conclusions at the end of the book; I’ve read it a couple times and never really thought about the points she brought up. I may have the odd quibble, but it was still very well done. There’s one little bit that got me thinking though, about a slightly different topic, and it is as follows:

At times, as an American who is chronically upset by her nation’s disregard for hockey, I thought I saw some glimmers of encouragement in the text. It is marvelous to see hockey growing in the deserts of the Arabian Peninsula. Maybe there is something marvelous in its growth in those of Arizona too. I have no great love for my country, but I do have a great love for hockey, and am often saddened by what I perceive as a certain provincialism (pardon the term) among Canadian hockey fans that wishes to deny the sport to the rest of the world, or at least those parts of it where it isn’t ‘traditional’.

I’m not sure that E is entirely accurate in saying that some Canadian hockey fans wish to deny the sport to the rest of the world, not even the non-traditional parts of it. I’ve never heard anyone crack jokes about hockey attendance in Japan, for example. For the most part, such sentiments are directed at the US. It’s an attitude I’ve seen before though, put a little less eloquently, for example, here. I find it more interesting when it’s brought up in the context of this book though, because the book is, as it says, about hockey in “unlikely places”. Bidini goes on about how unique and refreshing it is to play hockey in these places, while at this same time taking potshots at other unique places that happen to be in the lower 48.

Now, I’m as guilty of this as he is, for the most part. Believe me, I love the idea of hockey in strange places around the world. If it were a more popular worldwide sport, maybe there’d be an ice rink in my city, and I wouldn’t have to travel 350km to get to the only ice on the island to play once a month. But more (perhaps) on that another time. I’ve made a couple good Taiwanese friends here through hockey, it’s a great social connector for me, and I’m very grateful I get to play at all. But yes, I don’t have quite the same warm and fuzzy feelings about it when it comes to the US, and I’ve had to think about why that is. I’d like to think I’m above the knee-jerk anti-Americanism that is admittedly far too prevalent in Canada.

The answer that I came up with however, to the question of differing attitudes towards each region, goes back to that anti-Americanism. It’s a question of Canada’s relationship towards with (or towards, one-way as it usually is) the US in comparison to other countries, like Dubai or Romania or Mongolia.

There’s a part in Tropic, and I lent out my copy the other day, so I can’t quote it properly, but it’s the part where he’s talking about Esposito and the Summit Series, and Bidini says something to the effect of “That’s all we had, you understand? We aren’t a nation of great wars or revolutions or discoveries, hockey was ‘it’ ”. I think most every Canadian knows Pierre Trudeau’s famous line about Canada being the mouse sleeping next to the American elephant, and how one is always aware of every twitch and grunt. It’s accurate not just population wise or economically speaking, but culturally relevant as well, it’s why the CRTC has CanCon laws for the TV and radio. Hockey, in some ways, isn’t just our thing, it’s our only thing. It’s quite possibly the only thing we have that truly separates us from the rest of the world, and in the eyes of the world, from the US. Other countries have food, books, music, entertainers, handicrafts, dances, histories and all those other things considered “cultural” that are truly theirs, things that everyone can at least use as a stereotype when thinking of when their eyes wander across a map. Canada… we’re just that slightly different version of the US.

The difference then, between hockey becoming all the rage in Dubai as opposed to the US, is that Canada isn’t the mouse to Dubai’s elephant. Dubai isn’t the biggest, strongest, most culturally dominant country in the world, it’s not ten times our size, and it’s not right next door. If hockey becomes the national pastime of the US, even if it’s just as popular in Canada, then it won’t really be our thing anymore. Call it being petty, or small minded, or selfish or an example of little-brother syndrome, it’s probably true in a way, but it’s there, and I hate to use an overused, tired line, but it is what it is. If the NHL replaces the NFL, NBA and MLB (and for good measure, NASCAR and NCAA sports) in American culture, then it won’t be Canada’s game anymore. It won’t be Canada that defines it, that shapes its customs and norms, that tells its stories and says what hockey is. I know, I know, Canada doesn’t even do that now, not if you’re coming from a Russian or Finnish perspective, (or anywhere else hockey has a modicum of popularity) just like Russian or Finnish hockey customs don’t define Canadian hockey. But Canadian hockey at least defines hockey in Canada. Up against the American cultural elephant though, the mouse doesn’t stand much chance. Russia may be another elephant, or hippo or something (I guess a bear is the right animal, huh?), but they’re not sharing a bed with us.

I’m really not a fan of petty anti-Americanism in Canada, and I hope this doesn’t come off as another example of it. I’m just trying to come up with an explanation as to why Canada doesn’t really seem to care too much about hockey in other places, but why there’s so much scorn for it in the southern US, something that goes beyond laser pucks and the loss of the Jets and Nordiques. Throw in those obvious grievances though, add them to the underlying sentiments and concerns that I’m proposing, and I’d like to think that the reasons for the differing attitudes towards hockey in new places is at least at little more understandable.