Den glider in!

Could nearly promise a pint (well, a half at least) to anyone who knows all the multiple meanings of my title.

It is actually quite cool to write about subjects not many (if any of you ...) know about. For example, i can't be blamed of the not-up-to-this-very-second nature of what i am writing about now.

Actually, i have not been able to write about this earlier. It is SOO painfullll.

We lost. Den glidde in i mål igen och igen. En gång får många (i'm sorry teacher if you read this (and are still alive), i know, i used to be very good at Swedish but at least this kinda rhymes).

Sweden 3 Finland 2.

It started so well. Sweden 0 Finland 1. A small eruption of sudden energy found its outlet through the bodies of normally so stoic Finns in West Norwood. Beers and cheers!

We were on the way to the impossible. To win the eight consecutive match of the Olympic ice-hockey tournament, model 2006. This would have been an Olympic record (and the first gold for us in these games and first gold in ice-hockey eveeeeer.

But in this world of swedes and turnips (Cheers, Graham!), bad taste in the mouth was what remained.

We tend to call swedes by the name of Donald Duck's cousin, that goose the name of whom i can't now recall in English and am not bothered to look up for you (sorry and yes, interactivity is the name of the game these days, go find yourselves if you don't know!).

And of course. 2-2, final set. First second into the play. What you might call a ridiculous wooden stick that for some reasons lacks the broom-part at the bottom (ok, it was of NASA quality carbon fibre or whatever the manufacturer wanted to call this £150 piece of shit) went into pieces at the face-off that opened the third period.

The stick belonged to Saku Koivu and in the end him and Teemu Selänne, the Finnish Flash (no, not like that, you dirty-minded individual) could only cry as the Swedes were smiling like Hanko-biscuits (i know, another obscure reference) as if calling to have some of their teeth knocked out.

Why? Because after the ice-hockey stick broke down the Swedes scored 10 seconds into the period. Period.

Ps. Ok, they played some decent ice-hockey as well, the Swedes. But it was our turn this time , really. And why could we not have similar luck (or any luck at all) 30 seconds from the end of the third period when our player was one on one against the sprawling Swedish goalie but could not lift this thing made of volcanic rubber and weighing a massive 170 grams over this not-so high-flying goose who somewhat mysteriously is called by the name of ... eh, never mind.

Pps. The title of this entry? In 1995 it was a beautiful spring day in Stockholm, the capital of Sweden. And the Swedes were so sure they would win the ice-hockey world championsips that they made a specific song for it. They were prepared, Absolutely, for the celebrations. What happened? Well, we Finns tend to sing that song a lot these days. in fact, it is the only Swedish song we really, really like.

Pps. The other meanings? Let them be ...