If you missed the final game of the Women’s Beach Volleyball at the Olympics the other day, you should find a recording of it because it was a great finale.
Canada against Brasil (Portuguese is spoken in that Amazonian country), or as we used to spell it in geography class seventy-five years ago, Brazil (English). One must be as careful with spellings of countries and cities as one is with pronouns. In fact, you no longer can order Chicken Kiev, you must now order Chicken Kyiv. But I digress.
Four very athletic women, nicely clad, put on a thrilling display of hitting a ball over a net in the sand. Beneath the Eiffel Tower. In Paris. France. They were blocking, spiking, dinking (tipping the volleyball), and serving aces. A great exhibition of the game.
That is until the near brouhaha in the third set. Brandi Wilkerson, Canadian (born in Switzerland), was verbally challenging the Brazilian Ana Patricia, and it was working – working to the point that fisticuffs were seconds away! In each other’s face, the two tall women were eye to eye with the male linesman who was just a little confused about what to do. This was going to go further than the infamous spitting episode of a previous event.
Melissa was trying to smooth the waters, er, sand, and the first referee seemed stunned. Then the music for the court area began to play over the loudspeakers – a quiet lullaby – Brahms, I think. That failed to calm the players, and now the Canadian crowd of supporters, who may have had a little hockey blood running hot in their veins, were cheering, so the audio crew began to play the Beatles’ “All We Need is Love”. Chuckles and then laughter from the crowd ensued, and the tension eased.
The women apologized and the match continued.
Apparently, it is bad form to trash-talk your opponents at the Olympics although I am sure the Athenians and Spartans threw a few verbal barbs and pointed comments at each other 2,000 years ago when they performed their events in the nude. Of course, it was just naked men back then. Binary equity at the Olympics was not in place until this year – and already the governing committee is being challenged over non-binary athletes sitting in the wrong pew.
One of my big takeaways from that event was how the music settled and calmed things down to the point where everyone was laughing at the foolishness of players almost getting into physically striking each other over a few words and maybe a little sand kicked at you. Kudos to the audio crew.
And yet we know how music can stir the emotions. Men have been led into the slaughter of war by bugles and drums, bagpipes wailing, fifes and whistles, cymbals crashing, and even the banging of tin pots. At indoor sports venues, organ and electronic music try to rile the blood of the players and reward any success with deafening audio and blinding visual displays.
And now, here’s an idea that is really going to rankle Gary Bettman and the money people in the NHL, and even some of the players, right down from the senior leagues to the juniors: What if every time a fight broke out on the ice, the ‘organist’ played “All you Need is Love” and as at the Olympics, people started laughing at the whole situation? How long do you think the entertainers/players would be throwing punches if people were laughing at them? Maybe they would just go back to playing the game.
Yeah, yeah, some of you old diehards will say fighting is part of the game, but really? I hardly ever got into fisticuffs when I played. Well, maybe a few times, but. . .
Here’s the challenge to the Battalion team management: if a couple of players start mixing it up on the ice, and I don’t care if they are from Sudbury, have the ‘organist’ play “All We Need is Love”. Let’s see if they will get back to hockey and set a standard for the whole league. Maybe even the NHL.
I’d buy a ticket to see that! Just saying.
