Canadians in exile rejoice over hockey win. Sounds about right.
A full hour before the game, the place was full. Or so I thought. Armies of Canucks kept marching in, somehow squeezing themselves a place. The bar across the street, Arctica, was used for spillover. The crowd was a sea of red and white, to the point where the casually clothed felt awkward and underdressed. The crowd was decked out not just in hockey sweaters (or “jerseys” to boorish Americans), but also in toques, kangols, capes, scarves, mittens. It was a bit surreal: people came inside, got settled, and donned winter apparel.