There is now, as there was then, a political context that seemed to inform every hard hit, every ringing chant for Canada or for the U.S.A. Donald Trump, after all, has made no secret of his contempt for Canadians or his disregard of their sovereignty. And the Canadians have made hockey, the country’s national sport, a kind of referendum on their strong identity. “You can’t take our country—and you can’t take our game,” wrote the Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau after the Canadians’ overtime win over the U.S. for the 4 Nations Face-Off trophy last year—one of the wildest, most highly charged sporting events I’ve ever seen. But the thrilling reality is that these U.S. and Canada teams were well matched in most measures, and together put on a display of unbelievable speed and skill. The competitive intensity between them had less to do with some narrative of freedom versus tyranny based on the two nations’ differences and more to do with their familiarity. The U.S. and Canadian players face each other all year long, crisscrossing the border. Some of them are teammates, and might even refer to one another as family. They know each other’s weaknesses and tendencies. They respect each other, sometimes grudgingly. But it was obvious from the determination on both sides that they understood friendships don’t define rivalries. “There’s hatred there,” the quick-to-brawl American forward Brady Tkachuk said before the game. “I mean, they’ve been the top dog. They’ve been the best for the last bunch of years, and, for us, we want to be in that position, be the best. So it’s going to be a game where I think a lot of guys could say, This is the biggest game that they’ve ever played in.”