The last horn in Milan didn’t cause a chaos.
Instead, it brought silence.
For sixty intense minutes, the rink shook with high-level competition.
Sticks banged together.
Skates made frantic marks on the ice.
The scoreboard added tension with each passing second.
When Canada won a close game 2-1, everyone expected a loud celebration.
Fans jumped up.
Flags fluttered excitedly.
The players rushed out to celebrate.
But something surprising happened.
Marie-Philip Poulin didn’t lead her teammates into a wild celebration at center ice.
She didn’t skate right to the tunnel.
Instead, she held up her glove and signaled for everyone to calm down.
One by one, the players came to a stop.
They gathered at the blue line.
They stood together, side by side, looking at the Maple Leaf flag high above the rink.
The arena lights shined on helmets still sweaty from the game.
Then, without any announcement or music, they began to sing.
There wasn’t an orchestra playing.
No recorded anthem blaring from big speakers.
Just their voices.
Clear.
Together.
Human.
“O Canada” started softly, almost shyly, as if feeling the moment.
But in just a few seconds, their voices strengthened.
The captain’s voice was strong and steady, keeping the beat not with drama but with quiet confidence.
Her teammates followed naturally, mixing their breaths and beliefs into something much more impactful than loud music.
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