“I have commented before on the abnormal hockey mania. [..] But in Latvia, it (hockey – Ed.) has been adopted by women, the elderly, and children, who absolutely do not understand the essence of the game. This can only be explained by some kind of longing for artificial happiness.”

Ainars Mielavs in conversation with Romāns Koļeda, “Rīgas Balss”

Spring in Latvia arrives with hockey madness. Everyone is talking about it – both those who understand the game and those who have never watched a single match to the end. I do not think this is some kind of phenomenon. There are many countries in the world where sport is placed alongside religion. Take, for example, football in Italy and South America, or basketball in Lithuania. I once happened to be in the Lithuanian countryside, where at a large feast table sat small children, the elderly, women, and men, all watching a match of the Lithuanian men's basketball team in the European Championship. Everyone was rooting for them like crazy, and everyone had their own expert opinion on the game, tactics, and the players' mistakes on the court. We can only envy the Lithuanians for their success in basketball on a global scale. Sport is rewarding in that you, as an outsider, can offer commentary. No one is going to send you out onto the court, and whether your opinion is right or not can never really be proven. I have observed similar situations in business, where everyone is an expert and has an opinion during meetings about marketing or advertising, but when there are discussions about accounting, finance, or legal issues, only a few speak up, and the rest remain silent. Sport is so seemingly simple. However, those who have tried playing a sport themselves are the only ones who can truly appreciate the performance of athletes and understand that sometimes even shooting a puck into a seemingly empty goal is not all that easy. Hockey gives fans a unique opportunity to taste a wide range of emotions. You cannot stop people from rooting for their team and being happy. My mother also supports our national hockey team, even though she and sports are like oil and water. She supports them with all her heart and soul. That is a much more genuine and honest form of fandom than that of the occasional supposed hockey fan who puts on a crumpled Latvia hockey jersey and yells while under the influence of several pro mille of alcohol. I cannot understand those who associate watching hockey with getting drunk. Hockey is a fast, dynamic game that you have to follow very carefully to enjoy every moment on the ice. Perhaps in the daily rush, we are unable to receive emotional stimuli in sufficient quantities, which is why people are such fanatics and supporters. Sport is unpredictable. It gives you even more emotion because, as a sports fan, you are involved in the event; you are present. You can shout loudly, whistle, applaud. There is a feeling that you are somehow influencing what is happening on the court. It gives a greater sense of involvement than watching a film or a theatre play. The phenomenon of Latvian hockey fandom can also be explained in connection with the desire to be publicly exposed on a global scale. To show, look, we are here too. There is a country called Latvia where they play hockey. Sometimes we can even fray the nerves of the world's great powers. Are there many situations in everyday life where Latvia can compete on equal terms with Germany, the USA, France, or Russia? Sport can create and strengthen feelings of patriotism. Last year, a surge of patriotic feelings was observed in Germany, where the German national football team performed successfully in the World Cup. Mass media wrote that for the first time in modern German history, Germans felt like one great nation; there was singing in the streets and general jubilation. I was present at the historic match of the Latvian national team in Saint Petersburg when, on 4 May 2000, the star-studded Russian team was defeated. I was proud to be Latvian! I sang the Latvian national anthem with all my heart. People all around were crying tears of joy. It was something unique. Since that moment, I have not experienced such a surge of patriotic feeling. It is a pity.
Article first published in the June 2007 issue of the magazine Rīgas Laiks