When Canadian hockey player, Sidney Crosby, flipped the puck past Team USA’s stalwart goalie in overtime of the final contest in the 2010 Winter Olympic Games, an entire nation erupted in elation. Two hours later, in the closing ceremony, Canada officially celebrated two weeks full of resounding success and four years of steadfast preparation. For the host nation’s 34 million people, this became a veritable Golden Moment. A “peak experience” that, through a series of serendipitous acts of luck and will, I was privileged to share. I returned grateful that I had made the effort and eager to renew my quest to be part of as many golden moments as possible.
I had a speaking event in Vancouver the day after Olympic activities concluded. Rather than stick with my previously scheduled afternoon flight, I elected to get up at 4:00 AM and hitch an earlier ride. My goal was to arrive in time to crash the closing ceremony. My intuition was that there might be a few people electing to return early who might decide to unload a solo seat to the wrap up party. At least, I figured it was worth a try.
As it turns out, I was able to secure a ticket, albeit for a price a bit beyond my original budget. I had underestimated the epic nature of the event. I don’t know that there has ever been, or ever will be, an Olympic ceremony so full of joy. I was privileged to bathe in that energy with a jam packed stadium of 60,000 (mostly Canadians) on perhaps their proudest day in modern history.
Victory in men’s hockey was the tipping point for the entire Olympic experience for the host nation. Canada had already won the women’s gold medal for hockey, along with 12 more, tying an all-time record for first place finishes in a Winter Olympic contest. This mattered little, however, if they failed in their quest to top the podium in the men’s version of the sport that their country had invented.
As I drove down a completely traffic-less main thoroughfare heading to my hotel in North Vancouver, the hockey game was winding down. Estimates are that more than 80 percent of all Canadians were glued to their televisions. I listened on the radio as the adrenaline-fueled announcers began counting down the final seconds with Canada clinging to a tenuous one point lead. A deafening roar from the overcrowded pubs caused me to roll down my windows. With 24 seconds left in regulation, Team USA scored a tying goal. At that precise moment, the city of Vancouver, and the entire country along with them, went completely silent. I’m not sure a Canadian fully inhaled again until Crosby’s “golden goal” in overtime.
With that hockey victory, the enormity of the past few weeks, and more accurately, the past few years, came rushing into focus. Canada had created a very aggressive program they called “Own the Podium” that detailed their ambitious plans for the games they would host in 2010. On the final day, after the final goal in the final event it became clear they had realized their dream. While both the U.S. and Germany had eclipsed them in total medals, the Canadian team set a record for gold. They had competed brilliantly and hosted graciously. Despite technical and weather-related challenges, the clear consensus was that they had thrown a great party. Tens of thousands marched toward BC Place to savor and celebrate.
I arrived at the entrance gate to the closing ceremony with less than an hour to go. Because of the positive pandemonium created by the hockey victory, ticket scalpers were few and far between. Prices were high and firm. The single seat I needed seemed to be non-existent. No scalper would break up a pair. In order to have a shot at a last-second seat, I had to find a partner. Eventually I noticed another solo searcher struggling with the same futile quest. By combining our efforts (and increasing our bid price), we were able to secure a pair of tickets. My new friend, Karim, and I missed the opening fifteen minutes of the show, but were eventually able to navigate our way to floor-level seats, a mere nine rows from the stage. We sat down and were immediately immersed in activity.
A ceremony like this is not a passive experience. Audience members are required to participate. Each seat had a box attached to it. Inside the box was a white poncho, a colored poster, blinking light, glow in the dark snow globe and a pair of moose antlers. Those who arrived on time were taught to use the enclosed paraphernalia on cue so that viewing audiences around the world would be treated to a harmonious display of color and light. Karim and I did our best to fake it and follow the lead of our seat mates. Like everyone else in attendance, we didn’t just witness the event; we were part of the show.
There was not an empty seat in the jam-packed stadium. Nor was there a single face with a frown. The normally courteous and somewhat staid Canadians were passionately friendly and indescribably proud. They cheered for their athletes and their country. The world watched from a distance as Canada dutifully put a formal seal on the games and passed the torch to their Russian successors. In so doing, however, they made no effort to contain their overwhelming joy. This may have been a widely-watched world event, but it felt like a golden moment for an entire country.
Don’t get me wrong. The Canadians continued to be fabulous hosts, extraordinarily so. To give you a concrete example, my ticket partner Karim (moments earlier a total stranger) insisted on driving me back to my hotel following the event. He wouldn’t think of letting me navigate the crowded bus service or pay for an overpriced taxi. He took it as a point of civic pride to escort a foreign visitor back to his hotel and even insisted on buying me dinner in transit. I knew better than to decline his generous offer.
Abraham Maslow wrote that evolved people often define themselves by their unique collection of peak experiences. Roughly translated, it is as if at the end of our lives we each go to our personal highlight reel and play back our special golden moments. Some just have longer shows than others.
All I can say is that I am pleased I made the extra effort to be there for Canada’s golden moment. And with all due respect to our hard working hockey players, I’m kind of glad Mr. Crosby’s puck found the net in overtime. A silver moment is just not the same.
So what can we learn from Canada’s joyous success? Consider taking the following actions:
1. Create your own Golden Moments. The formula is: Bold Audacious Goal + Unrelenting Hard Work + Just a Bit of Luck = Golden Moment. You may not get many you aim for, but those very few you achieve will be worth countless failed attempts.
2. Share in Golden Moments with Others. Being physically present on someone else’s very best day allows you to soak up some of the same energy. It helps provide an emotional reference for what you are shooting for.
3. Be Here Now. Not all golden moments (or peak experiences) are sports-related. The birth of a child, a wedding, receipt of a diploma, publication of a book, or even death of a family member can create intense positive experiences that you will remember forever. A key for making these moments golden is to stop your mind from dredging up the past or worrying about what is next. Maslow calls living in the moment “Being Cognition.” For critical events, focus on the present.
4. Become a Student of Golden Moments. Study what others are doing when they achieve extraordinary results. Pay special attention to repeat achievers. It’s not lottery winners that you want to emulate. Pattern yourself after those who willed their way to golden moments and apply those strategies to your own situation.
