Player's Own Voice

NASCAR drivers generally have a lot in common.  For starters, they are overwhelmingly American, male, and coming from seriously wealthy backgrounds.    Winnipeg's own Amber Balcaen has got her 'outsider' bases covered.  As the only Canadian racing full time on the NASCAR circuit, she's overcoming challenges left, right and centre.  Luckily, Balcaen is used to fighting for what she wants.Her background in Canadian dirt track racing only allowed her to drive a few months a year, while her competition in the southern USA  enjoyed tracks that were open year-round. Sponsorship, the keys to the castle in this incredibly expensive sport, doesn't come easy for a Canadian either. Why would a Canadian company get behind a sport that is overwhelmingly popular in the USA, but hit and miss north of the 49th?  And why would Americans put money behind a Canadian racer?   That's where Balcaen's business background,  and limitless hustle, made the difference.  She noticed that race tracks were always ringed with RVs full of fans, so she started building a business case around that, then courted a Canadian-based, North American firm making RV parts. A winning partnership was formed, and she's racing in a custom red and white rocket to prove it. As a woman among Good Ole Boys,  nothing came easy for Balcaen. She had to win respect the only way you can in racing: weekend after weekend of high finishes, quality performances, and fearless competition.  Everybody loves an underdog story. The only trouble there is she's so fast on the track that the 'underdog' label doesn't fit the bill anymore. Despite focusing on her race this Saturday at the super speedway in Talledega,  Balcaen found time with Anastasia to talk about her unlikely journey from Maniitoba dirt tracks to the heartland of American racing.

The more public the troubles at Bobsleigh Canada Skeleton become, the less easy they are to nail down. More than seventy athletes are calling for a leadership overhaul, amid complaints of ‘toxic culture’ and a serious breakdown in trust and respect between the people who actually do the high speed, high danger sports, and the people who coach, train, manage, repair, and organize on their behalf. There may be more issues than any one athlete can fairly decode, but Canadian Monobob and two-woman pilot, Cynthia Appiah, does her level best. Safety and concussion protocols are part of the contention. Many internal management decisions are stirring resent. Resources appear to be allocated based on criteria that athletes find opaque. Appiah is often asked to comment on these disputes, and she is vocal about doing so, but at the same time, she worries that speaking out might limit her career. With the Beijing Olympics in fresh hindsight, Appiah is certain about a few things. She is much happier with her two woman Olympic performance than her monobob runs, even though she finished a very respectable sixth in both events. She is all-in for the next four years of intense work towards the 2026 Olympics. She is refreshingly open-minded about her strengths and areas needing improvement as a team leader. And she is as balanced as anyone could possibly be in recognizing her role as a BIPOC leader in winter sport. The challenge that Appiah sees is not just about attracting new, diverse people into the sliding sports, but in making sure that once athletes do commit, they don’t bump against glass ceilings. As Appiah says to Anastasia – she’s not just there to represent, she’s there to win.

Antoine Gélinas-Beaulieu has one heck of a backstory. He was a teen prodigy. A top-ranked world junior speed skater in both long and short track, which is extremely rare. He simply loved skating- and he had his own, happy, idiosyncratic ways that served him well. He was the kind of kid who'd warm up on a unicycle, instead of the usual stationary bike. But a new coaching regime stole all the joy from his sport, and his workouts strayed far into abusive territory. Physical injury from overtraining met mental breakdown in a perfect- but not perfectly understood- storm. At twenty he was broken and beaten and done with racing. Four years away from the sport- travelling, tending bar, anything but skating- began to recharge the batteries, and then a coincidental meeting with another 'outsider' talent, Steve Robillard, lit the comeback fuse. Robillard encouraged Gélinas-Beaulieu to get into coaching, and that slowly rekindled his own love of the game. As he tells Anastasia, it's all about the joy of skating again. Gélinas-Beaulieu determines his own workout regime for the most part, and he revels in helping encourage young skaters, and he is already rubbing his hands in anticipation of the next winter Olympics -Milano Cortina 2026.

After years of working on communications for high performance sports, Dina Bell-Laroche has witnessed many extremes of emotion. But the moment that altered her career forever was the death of her sister, nearly twenty years ago. The grief and her experience in sport combined for Bell-Laroche and led her to coaching and councelling athletes who are dealing with loss in its many forms. With national athletes enduring the Post Olympic Blues right now, the time is fitting for some clear thinking about how we process setbacks and loss in sports. Part of the goal is to get rid of myths. Grief is not the exclusive privilege of people who have had a death in the family. For athletes, bereavement can flow from a big loss, naturally, but it can also accumulate slowly and creep up on competitors. After a career devoted to sport- retirement can churn up many underexamined disappointments and losses, too. The trouble starts when sports rewards a stoic approach. Shake it off. There’ll be another game. Focus on getting that next win. These attitudes mean well, but they can push athletes into traumatizing silence. Bell -Laroche’s discipline is Thanatology. The study of grief and death. The ancient Greeks, who knew a thing or two about tragedy, said there are only two themes: Eros and Thanatos. Love and Death. Bell- Laroche would argue they are inextricably linked. We only mourn losing what we love. And that can include a dashed dream of Olympic glory.

Brad Gushue held 40 pounds of granite in one hand, and in the other, the distinct possibility that Canada would leave Beijing without a single curling medal for the first time since the sport was introduced to the Olympic games in 1998. As it happens, the granite hung lighter in the balance. The skip of the Canadian team delivered a shot that locked up a Bronze medal,  exactly 16 years after his golden performance in Turin. For Gushue,  this Bronze is almost more a source of pride than the 2006 Championship.  He tells Anastasia that there are some weeks you have it and some weeks you don't. Everything clicked in Turin, and very little was working for the team here in Beijing.  "That's why it can't always be about just winning.  It has to be about the experience, about the journey, about the challenges you overcome. And we overcame a lot this week to get to where we are right now." Gushue is a thoughtful athlete- and with the deliberate tempo of curling, that is not always a good thing. Some sports, your fast reactions will carry the day. On the curling sheets, there's plenty of time for an active mind to worry its way into jams. But students of the game could see it happening in Beijing:  Gushue harnessed his years of mindfulness work, parked the unhelpful considerations, and made the most difficult situations look manageable.

Charles Hamelin knows how to conduct an Olympic Career. Medal at your first games. Keep medaling and staying strong for sixteen more years. Somewhere in the middle of all that, give Canadians a warm fuzzy moment by celebrating a win with a rinkside kiss. Save the best win for the last appearance. In his final skate, the short track G.O.A.T. bagged one last Olympic gold medal. There are only three other Canadians with four gold medals. There is only one other Canadian Winter Olympian, long track legend Cindy Klassen, tied with Hamelin at six medals. If anybody’s counting, at 37 years old, Hamelin is also the oldest man to medal in short track. On that matter, career longevity, Hamelin credits his dad Yves, with building the base of the pyramid on which a sturdy long career rested. Charles and his brother Francois benefitted from a multi sport childhood. He tells Anastasia that the two brothers always had the choice: train hard, or relax with buddies. Hamelin admits he is still working on that ‘relax with buddies’ thing, but that’s his choice. Hamelin has now delivered sport’s most elusive commodity, the story book finish. But there may be a capper coming. Hamelin is heading back to Montreal for his final world cup competition in March. He has 142 world cup medals in the trophy room already. But the last race in front of a hometown crowd? With the Olympic champion team alongside him? Better save some space on the last page of that story book.

Greg Westlake is both ironman and spokesman for para Hockey. Ironman because these are his fifth Paralympic games, and he remains remarkably fit and injury free despite his long and storied career. Spokesman because his ideas and involvement with para sport are only getting more persuasive with each passing year. For Westlake, it’s all about knowing your worth, and not being shy to demand it. The forward is frank about where he takes his inspiration for the future of para hockey. The NHL experience does not speak to him. Parathletes do not weigh 50 million dollar, 5 year contracts. For Westlake, its more Cheryl Pounder or Hayley Wickenheiser whose models he follows. Those women depended on carding money to stay in the game…and they had to fight to get their due respect. Women athletes had to push for equal facilities, equal training, coaching, equal nutrition…just as disabled athletes have had to do. Westlake draws another parallel for Anastasia to consider: there are still small pockets of, (his word) ignorant people who don’t believe women athletes deserve our attention or respect. And disabled athletes know that battle too. But with the benefit of 20 years in the game, Westlake can offer this very encouraging assessment- he says para athletes are fitter and younger than ever before. And for that, proper investment by national sporting organizations gets the credit. The Beijing Paralympic games begin Friday March 4th. You don’t need reasons to watch, but a few minutes in Westlake’s company will provide you with a tonne of them

When figure skater Elladj Baldé started sharing videos of himself having a ball, skating on frozen lakes, the response almost overwhelmed him. Tens of millions of views piled in…making Baldé quickly realize that he had a responsibility to put this unnervingly powerful new tool to good use. Retired from competition, but more engaged than ever in the wide world of skating, Baldé has become an icon of inclusion. His video music choices are a revelation. Skipping through the old idea that light classical music is the only possible soundtrack for skating, Baldé sees other structures and strictures beginning to fall away too. Clothing, culture, new ideas about who gets to participate in figure skating, Balde's experience has helped young BIPOC athletes see themselves in winter sport like never before. Baldé comes to talk Olympic figure skating, of course. He is CBC Sport's Mix Zone reporter for Beijing. But it's helpful to know that along with being a scholar of the sport, he brings perspective as cofounder of the Figure Skating Diversity and Inclusion Alliance. Baldé is happy to report that at these games he can see Figure skating moving far beyond its overwhelmingly European early days. So- Baldé has props for Donovan Carrillo, the Mexican skater. Not just for how the man performs, but also because now " A young Latin kid can watch a Latin man skate to Latin music and say, ' I can do that too.'" As Baldé sees it, just because Figure Skating represents some of the oldest traditions in winter sport, doesn't mean it can't be home to some of the newest traditions either.

Even by Beijing 2022 standards, Keegan Messing faced a tense obstacle course to get to the games.   A positive covid test result just before 'go time'  threatened to undo four years of practice and planning. He rocketed into Beijing, having flown the long way round the world to get there, too late for his beloved team figure skate event, and just barely in time for his solo routines. But when he hit the ice, exhausted, jet lagged, and disoriented, somehow he also pulled some Olympic magic out of the bag. Judges, fans, even Messing agreed- his short program was the best he has done in competition, all season long. Anastasia asks Keegan how he pulled that off...and his answer is an honest one: "I'm still trying to figure out how I did it too, because I've had shorter trips and not been able to recover from jetlag. I think there is a bit of adrenaline. I think there's a bit of mental preparation...  I kept my mind super positive and understanding that you, you will not feel like yourself here. So I just followed the plan took one thing at a time and I really wasn't given a chance to think. So I just acted, and it worked." Messing did his best in his brother's name at the Beijing Olympics. Paxon Messing was a high ranked snowboarder, who died in an Anchorage Alaska motorcycle crash in 2019. It has been an emotional roller coaster in the Messing house... a few short months ago, Keegan and his wife Lane Hodson welcomed their new baby boy Wyatt into the world.

Considering Mark McMorris' medical history, it's no surprise he jokes about enjoying rare time off between surgeries. It takes another beat to process his comparisons with teammate Max Parrot's recovery from cancer. But that is the unlikely reality:  Two guys, buddies on the same team, both at death's door not so long ago… both on the podium in Beijing. You either laugh or cry at life's twists and turns.  And McMorris isn't crying. Not everybody can claim a podium every time their sport has been contested in the Olympics. McMorris can: Three Bronze medals in a row.   And not everybody at the age of 28 can speak as an elder statesman in their profession. McMorris can do that too. Midway through McMorris' Beijing games (Big Air qualifying begins Monday) Anastasia gives her fellow prairie pal a break from the high octane technical questions.  You want to know what's really on McMorris mind at this moment?  A whole bunch of music, plenty of love for his home team, respect for the creativity in other people's TikToks, even when he's on the butt end of a meme…and the puzzling appearance of Skateboarder Paul Rodriguez Nikes on the feet of American curler Matthew Hamilton.   McMorris loves that.  His summary of the situation? It's all sports, It's all good.

Picture two radically different sports. Snowboarding and Golf, for example.  Nothing in common, you say? Laurie Blouin might persuade you otherwise. When she's doing her Slopestyle or Big Air events- flying and spinning at stomach-lurching speed and altitude, stomping the touch down- she says that's the very same feeling she gets when a round of golf comes together on the links. Mortal athletes are saying "Really? Corkscrewing through the air at 50 kph…that's like nailing a 7 iron?"   Blouin clarifies: It's a mental thing, in the quantitative sense.  As she tells Anastasia, it's all about doing just the right amount of thinking.  Not being relaxed and absent, and definitely not overthinking the process. Just hitting that mental sweet spot. Blouin knows what she knows.   She's already got the Silver medal from PyeongChang to prove it. Fresh off an agonizing fourth place finish in Slope Style, Blouin has the balanced attitude in the bag as she waits for next weekend's Big Air to begin.  She's proud of her opening event performance but a little disappointed to miss the medals.  And that's just about the right amount of thinking to do at this point. So now it's on to part two of Blouin's mission in Beijing. She's keeping herself safe, relaxed, and ready to soar. Negative tests, positive attitude.

Here’s how life works for Lisa Weagle, a curler at the pinnacle of her sport: Sometimes she’s the lead, and an undisputed force in that capacity. And sometimes she’s an alternate, as she happens to be for Jennifer Jones’ team right now at the Beijing Olympics. And for Weagle, you better believe, there is no difference in the approach or commitment, whichever role she lands. The fifth member of Jones’ powerhouse crew, along with Kaitlyn Lawes, Jocelyne Peterman, and Dawn McEwen, Weagle has got the benefit of previous Olympic experience under her belt. So she’s loving her time in Beijing, but she’s also got a healthy perspective on the twists and turns of Olympic fate. “At the closing ceremony at Pyeongchang, I looked around and noticed how few athletes actually had medals, and I felt like such a failure. But looking around, I was like, Well, I don't think they're all failures, so why am I putting that on myself?” As to the international competition: Anastasia questions the old wisdom among Canadian curlers, that it’s almost harder to qualify for the Olympics than it is to actually take on the world. Weagle agrees that thinking is becoming less accurate with each passing year. In Weagle’s view, there is so much talent curling in Beijing right now, they could run the tournament three times and have three different teams wearing the medals when the sheets go quiet. Control the controlables, as they always say, and meantime, rest assured…the alternate Weagle is ready to throw some of her trademark ‘ticks’ at a moment’s notice.

Just as the Beijing Winter Olympic competition was getting underway, Anastasia pedaled up alongside Canada’s most recent Olympic medallist- track Cyclist Kelsey Mitchell. Her golden ride was the final capping glory on Canada’s Tokyo campaign. Olympians, regardless of winter or summer specialization, can always learn from one another. So Anastasia tapped Mitchell for insights and advice on getting into medal contention. Mitchell’s trip to the top followed an unusual course. She had barely pedaled a bike two years before Tokyo when the track team brought her into the fold, straight from an RBC training ground tryout. So there certainly wasn’t any ten year master plan to look back on. Mitchell, like many athletes, is evidence that Visualisation works. In fact- she couldn’t help herself, vivid images of being decorated with the gold medal would occur to her at all hours of the day and night. She almost had to work at NOT visualizing. Mitchell also confides that the oldest advice in the game really worked for her. Trust the process. Trust your training. Do the work and have confidence in your training. That way- when life throws curve balls- a week before her Olympic race, Mitchell came down with a cold- an athlete doesn’t need to panic. Coughs will cease, noses will stop running, and a lifetime- or at least a couple of years- of hard work will take over from there.

Nancy Lee is the IOC advisor on Gender Equality. The straightforward job title belies a serious complexity of work. For starters, Gender Equality is not simple math. 5000 male and 5000 female athletes is not a one- and-done solution. Some events, such as Nordic Combined, are still men-only at the Olympics. That’s changing by the way… but not in time for Beijing. There are issues with some of the proposed fixes for inequality. In some mixed events, men race longer distances than women. Is that equality? Even where there is agreement on plans and programs, the IOC cannot just wave its wand and command change. There are 206 national Olympic committees who each have say in matters. And before that, every sport has its own federation, not all of whom are equally invested in getting a gender balance in place. Equity questions abound, from minutiae to momentous. Why must women beach volleyball players run around in butt floss? How is it possible that Beijing will be the first winter Olympics to do away with “Ladies” events? Nancy won that linguistic battle for women by arguing that if we’re going to call them ‘Ladies’, the guys have to be referred to as ‘Gentlemen’. Aha! The penny drops. Media has a role to play too. Do we see images of active male athletes, and emotional female athletes? Do we linger on video of ‘pretty’ athletes? Do we ask male coaches more probing questions than their female counterparts? Do men’s events get better slots in prime time? Are women competing when audiences are smaller? Anastasia Bucsis asks Nancy to guide Olympic fans through the gamut of things to look and listen for during the Beijing competition. Never one to shy away from contentious issues- Nancy also lays down firm guidance on how the Canadian government should be spending your tax dollars in the area of sports and equality. When groups petition the feds for money to host Commonwealth games, or Canada Games, or Pan Ams, or FIFA events…Nancy wants Ottawa to make sure there are strings attached. Will women be playing soccer on plastic turf while men are on actual grass? Do men compete downtown, and women find themselves in facilities in the boonies? Are there provisions to mentor and bring more qualified women officials, coaches and governance on board? Once you start looking, you can see progress is being made, and still needs to be made. It’s an eye opening half hour, your decoder ring for the politics of equality in sport.

Shortly before Stephanie Labbé dropped a surprise retirement notice on the soccer world, the Canadian national goalie and Olympic champion hunkered down with Anastasia to talk through her motivations, her historic career, and her plans for the future. First thing many people want to know about, is that remarkable, disarming smile on Labbé's face as she braced for Swedish penalty kickers to do their worst, with Olympic gold on the line in Tokyo. Labbé says that was pure joy. With a little bit of gaming thrown in, just to give the Swedes something to think about. But if Labbé was doing exactly what she loves most…why is she doffing the gloves so soon afterward? When its time, you know. And she did. 20 years on the national team, 13 years a pro. 85 international caps. Fresh Olympic gold hanging around the neck. As far as competition goes, Labbé has nothing left to prove to anyone. But post competition? Labbé’s the first to say, Sports is all she really knows. So she’s going to be in the mix somehow. She points out that one of the side benefits of Canada’s historic Olympic win, is pressure is mounting for a professional women’s league to finally come to this country. Good luck keeping Labbé on the sidelines when that comes to pass!