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The Soul Can't See the Color of the Medal Around Its Neck

A little after 3 p.m. Pacific Standard Time yesterday, Ryan Miller was the most miserable man in North America. He was the latest victim of the iron law of hockey overtime -- that while anybody can be the hero, only the two goalies have a chance to be goats.

Not that Miller was a goat of the Olympics. He was the MVP of the hockey tournament, after all. But the Sidney Crosby goal that gave Canada a 3-2 win over the U.S. in the gold-medal game was, if not exactly a soft goal, certainly a save that Miller makes more often than not. In the immediate aftermath of sudden defeat, Miller was disconsolate, his face and posture a study in sorrow.

Sometime around 5:30 p.m. PST, Miller entered the stadium for the closing ceremonies of the 2010 Olympic Winter Games with the rest of his U.S. Olympic teammates who had chosen to participate in what is consciously supposed to be a celebration of the Games, the athletes, and life in general.

Miller wasn't exactly celebrating. But he wasn't a wet blanket either He was a man willing to observe (and photograph), the celebration staged by his peers.

And for that, I have about a billion times more respect and admiration for Miller as an athlete than he earned with any of his superb performance in the U.S. goal. Nobody would have blamed or even noticed Miller if he'd left the hockey venue post haste for Vancouver's airport and the first flight back to Buffalo (where's playing tomorrow night). That, happily, wasn't the way Miller chose to end his Olympic experience.

This highly paid professional athlete signed on to be a member not just of the U.S. hockey team, but the country's whole Olympic team. And by golly, Miller was going to be part of the team all the way, from start to finish. If he couldn't be happy with the other U.S Olympians, Miller felt it important to be with them while they were happy. Hockey players, pro or otherwise, have a rigorous if idiosyncratic code of honor, but Miller's appearance at the festival of over-the-hill Canadian rock acts was something better than a duty. It was a choice.

Walking into that arena, here's what Miller said about himself. "Here I am, in my last moments as a 2010 U.S. Olympian. We won some, we lost some. But being a member of that team means more to me than my personal loss."

Sports is not life. I have no idea what Miller is like as a person. All I know is that it would be a fine thing, a privilege really, to be his teammate.

posted by Michael Gee @ 4:41 PM