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It was never going to be easy. Canada’s 3-2 win over Finland in the Olympic semi-finals couldn't have ended any other way. The Finns, who had only 17 shots, employed the same defensive structure that nearly brought Canada to its knees against Czechia. Two world class goals by Mikko Rantanen and Erik Haula gave Finland the lead until late in the third period, when after tying the score on a Shea Theodore slapshot, an exhausted Nathan MacKinnon one-timed the puck past Juuse Saros with only 35 seconds to play. The Avalanche superstar, already not at full strength prior to a huge, earlier collision, could barely raise his hands in celebration. His tank, finally emptied, will need refuelling prior to Sunday’s final versus the United States.
There is a fallacy when it comes to predicting Canadian Olympic success. Canada’s ecosystem of stars, always impressive, is unusually so this year, only because for perhaps the first time it contains three all-time greats in their physical primes. After this murderer’s row of McDavid, MacKinnon and Makar, there is a slew of other, secondary stars whose names, when clustered together on a lineup screen, leave hockey fans slavering. A perception takes place that an arsenal this potent will be unstoppable for all teams except, perhaps, the United States: “how can you lose with that roster?” is the sort of rhetorical question you might overhear at a bar.
But international hockey does not always reward individual star power. Most of the European teams are second-tier in their depth of talent (this is not an insult, as Finland has a smaller population than the Greater Toronto Area but still reliably produces world class hockey players), but long on experience. They compete with a rabid commitment to team play and come with a defensive template for neutralizing more powerful opponents. And just as Czechia did, the Finns gave no easy opportunities. They blocked the ice’s middle, ceded no shooting lanes, fought their way to loose pucks along the boards and matched Canada’s physicality. However skilled Canada’s best are, their best efforts to get loose were thwarted for most of the game.
Changing one’s style between whistles, particularly when it has been so successful at the NHL level, is a difficult task. Canada’s best players are used to exploiting open ice: snapping the puck through sticks and limbs over long distances, making intricate plates at the offensive blue line and mostly doing whatever they want. This becomes vastly more difficult when your space to create has been removed. Further, as Olympic teams create a structure where, by necessity, primary offensive responsibilities, like power play time, are given to a select few, depth forwards otherwise relied upon to lead their NHL teams take on reduced roles -- both in the amount of ice they get and what is expected of them. This is why it's wrong to assume that a team loaded with scorers will be an offensive juggernaut each game: at the Olympic level, most are playing with a shorter leash.
But despite being down for most of yesterday’s match, Canada never wavered. The game-tying goal was not arrived at through fancy play, but a more pressurized, simple style of hockey from its third line, where Shea Theodore’s point shot found its way through a glut of bodies at the net. We can’t overlook that just prior to the goal Brad Marchand was sent tumbling through the crease and over Saros. I say this not to introduce controversy, as Marchand was pushed by the Finnish defenseman, but it was the sort of agitation he has made a hall of fame career of, and exactly what Canada needed in that moment. Simplified pressure from a skilled, physical team is nearly impossible to stop over three periods. In that sense, playing like a prick can be the best strategy for breaking through a defensive wall.
Canada won’t see the same style of play tomorrow. The Americans will have a more assertive posture than Czechia or Finland – teams overmatched in talent but sharp in tactics. They have the tournament’s most mobile defense, perhaps its best goalie, a wealth of talented forwards and no native insecurity about having to start from a defensive back foot. Rather, the US will look to play the game on its own terms – to dictate, rather than react. We should not expect a free-wheeling, open game, however, as it should start tightly, with each team wary of making a mistake until a hole opens. When this finally happens, fans will be treated to the exceptionally thrilling, skilled and physical North American style we saw at 4 Nations but have been deprived of on the Olympic level since 2010, when Sidney Crosby yelled ‘Iggy’ and then slipped one past Ryan Miller.
To impose itself, the US will rely on those who got it here: most notably, Quinn Hughes, who is Makar’s closest equal and someone capable of changing the game on his own (or end it, as he did against Sweden). Like Canada’s top defenseman, Hughes controls the play through brilliant, shifty skating and decision-making. He is the best player on an American team whose championship meeting with Canada has seemed both inevitable and necessary.
Hughes will see huge amounts of ice. So will Makar. So, too, will McDavid, Celebrini and Mackinnon. Each played nearly half of the final two periods on Friday, maintaining superhuman levels of energy until the end. In tomorrow’s final there will be nothing to save themselves for (beyond the rest of the NHL season, but who cares about that), and fans can expect these three to repeatedly come over the boards, particularly for offensive faceoffs. Canada will need their production, but its last two games have made necessary the importance of getting offense from the lower lines. In a matchup versus an American team that believes itself Canada’s physical equal, players like Tom Wilson, Sam Bennett and Brad Marchand may find a more favourable setting for their styles. (Though it is a subplot, Canadian hockey fans have been relishing for Wilson to offset whatever the Tkachuks have planned.)
We still don’t know yet whether Crosby will be back tomorrow. His involvement would change the complexion of Canada’s forward lines and provide its dressing room with an incomparable presence. But it’s likely that Canada will have to manage without Sid, leaving John Cooper, whose situational line-juggling is nonstop, with matchup decisions that will be interesting to track as the game unfolds. But however creative Cooper gets, we know which horses he’ll ride.
This US team, which Canadian hockey fans loathe but whose talents they respect, believes its time has come. While American hockey supremacy didn’t arrive at the 4 Nations, now, on an even greater stage, USA Hockey sees its moment to take over. In an era fixated with annexation, men’s hockey is the one activity where America’s northern gaze can dream only of succession. Tomorrow, Canada will deplete itself to prove this plan should have never left the boardroom.
