M A C V A Y S I A

I was pleasantly surprised recently to find out Malaysia was sending a hockey team to the Asian Winter Games in Changchun, China (home of my brother from a Chinese mother, Ice). Of course, when I say hockey I’m referring to ice hockey, which to just about any Canadian is the only hockey (Malaysians call the one played on a field hockey, but we reserve that simple name for ice hockey, calling the other one field hockey).

I was even more pleasantly surprised, upon my daily perusal of the local news, to learn that the Malaysian hockey team had creamed Hong Kong 7-3. Tonight they’re playing South Korea, a country which—unlike Malaysia and Hong Kong—has an annual winter and comparatively more experience with hockey. But you know, Malaysia doesn’t need to beat South Korea. They’re winners already. Good for them!

I’m not much of a hockey fan, despite my nationality. A dislike of the cold dreariness of hockey rinks has something to do with that. However, that nationality of mine has ensured that hockey was able to get into my memories somehow. Like when my brother and I tried out for the school team, using borrowed gear and skates that didn’t fit, even though we really didn’t know how to play hockey at all and in fact could barely even skate. (Update: I can indeed skate quite well; the only two moves I haven’t quite mastered are turning and stopping) Then there were all the times my father took me to see the now-defunct Cape Breton Oilers play at Centre 200. I didn’t care much for hockey at the time but enjoyed the opportunity to bond with Dad, eat popcorn, and see some good fights. Thanks to goons like Dennis Bonvie, every game featured several boxing matches. Kind of brings to mind the old joke: ‘I went to a fight and a hockey game broke out.’

Then there was the Canadian victory—victories (men’s and women’s)—at the winter olympics in Salt Lake City. Both finals were amazing. I’ll never forget the way people spilled out into the streets afterwards, the maple leaf waving from car windows, and all that. And the legend of the loonie under centre ice (look it up). That was my last winter in Canada.

So yeah, I was never really a fan. But I’m Canadian, eh?

Anyway, Malaysia plays South Korea in Changchun tonight, and to my horror I don’t think the game will be televised, at least not on the three or four channels I get.

On a language note, an article in the Star today described the team’s diminutive female manager as ‘pine-sized’, which made me chuckle. What, she was the size of a pine? Can I assume Malaysians are not familiar with the unit of measurement known as a pint? Anyway, Malaysians shouldn’t feel bad: Cape Bretoners often call it a point (as in ‘How’s about pickin’ me up a point of rum at the grog shop there, b’y?’).

But I digress. Good luck, Malaysia!