This move has been many things. The physical distance from where we considered home is massive. The cultural distance, even more so. It’s not like we moved to Canada, or even Florida. It’s a big swing with a language barrier, for me at least.
First of all, Mimmu is home. That’s critical to consider as “our family moved away from home” goes. That’s not entirely true. Mimmu has “moved back” home. So the idea of this being an act of foreignness is only partial to our family unit, and most impactful to only me. Taavi and Iita are Finns too, and though a passport alone doesn’t instill that identity in them, their identities are more malleable at ages 10 and 12, particularly as they rapidly assimilate into Finnish life with mastery of language. That was one of our greatest hopes this year. I’m the only one here who is still pretty foreign.
While home has been the United States for our family and Duluth in particular, cultural familiarity established in summer trips here has helped with a smooth transition in this move.
I found myself thinking in the car on the way to work yesterday to call the women’s 4x5 km World Championship relay, that I was starting to understand most of what the ads were saying on the radio. Finnish classes on Thursday evenings and some intermittent Duolingo have certainly helped. I pick up the gist of DJs pretty readily now, mostly because of recognized grammar; conjugation in particular. Commercial radio speak is relatively simple—closer to children’s programming—than, say YLE news, which I still struggle to grasp by comparison, thank goodness!
It hit me on the drive in that I felt more Finnish than ever before. Then I called the relay.
In my prep, the data and art of reading the athletes, running orders, and recent performances at the championships had me thinking the United States women—who are on a tear this winter—was in a battle for the bronze medal with Russia; Finland and Germany potential threats to that notion as well.
As I’ve documented here plenty, the United States women’s team has had a long slow rise to the top of international cross country ski racing. They have had successes individually, and even famously in the 2-person team sprint in which Kikkan Randall and Jessie Diggins have won both World Championship (2013) and Olympic (2018) titles.
Still, the ultimate measure of depth—and the team itself knows this—is the 4-person, 4x5km relay. They’ve thus made it their goal, so much so, that Sadie Maubet-Bjornsen staved off retirement for yesterday’s chance at history. Against nations where the sport has traditionally captured the imagination of much greater swaths of the general public—namely Scandinavia, Russia, and the snowy, alpine nations of central Europe—the US has dented the event with multiple podiums in World Cup weekend events over the last decade. Still, in a championship setting when every nation is trying to put their best team forward, when everyone is trying for peak form, the United States has come painstakingly-close-but-short, time and again.
Take a look at the record this decade in World Championships and Olympic Games 4x5 km relay finishes for the United States women:
2011 WCH—9th
2013 WCH—4th
2014 OLY—7th
2015 WCH—4th
2017 WCH—4th
2018 OLY—5th
2019 WCH—4th
This season, Americans Rosie Brennan or Diggins has been the top ranked skier in the world since mid-December. Even with spotty participation on the World Cup from some of the best nations due to Covid concerns, both continued to go toe-to-toe with the best when the stars returned to the World Cup. Diggins won the toughest all-around competition in the sport—The Tour de Ski—in January, beating two of the biggest names in the sport from Sweden. She followed that up just 3 weeks before the World Championships, defeating the nearly-unbeatable distance skier, Therese Johaug of Norway, who had been absent most of the world cup season. With Brennan’s continued hot racing, Maubet-Bjornsen—who was the first American woman to nab the yellow world leaders bib early last season—returning to competition, and young athletes like Hailey Swirbul notching a her first World Cup podium in December, it looked like the United States was poised to win that elusive 4x5km medal yesterday. We were ready to tell that story on NBC.
They did not. They fell 0.8 seconds shy of the bronze. I called the race. I felt all the anticipation. In the closing kilometers, an expert analyst like me would first-guess, based on good intel, that Diggins was going to take home the bronze medal for the USA, just ahead of Krista Parmakoski of Finland. But Parmakoski surprised.
I am supposed to be an impartial commentator, but if you’ve heard my most famous call, that notion has long been put to rest. Still, I try. I feel I did a reasonable job yesterday as Jessie got nipped at the line to finish 4th. Again.
Kikkan Randall, Jessie’s Olympic Gold Medal teammate from Pyeong Chang, joined us by video phone on the NBC commentary. I was impressed with her level-headed cool at the result. But as the long-time, hands-on architect and inspiration of this team’s successes, watching that had to feel like watching her baby lose that bronze medal. We went off air after Bill read final results, nixing the 15 minutes we had as a back up to cover celebration. We wrapped it up, said so long to the viewers, and then we chatted philosophically for some time from Jyvaskyla, British Columbia, Denver, and Connecticut, in the vacuum we felt with the loss.
I have felt very Finnish lately. In fact I was running that through my head as I listened to the radio driving in before the relay. Not more than 2 hours later, I realized I was a long way from being Finnish. That feeling of being punched in the stomach at the loss of that bronze walked back such a notion so thoroughly. I was quite honestly and simply, surprised.
I’ve never been much of a sports fan. Being a fan or supporter of something is the heart of identity as a human being though, and I realize while I’ve not picked a team to become fanatic about, I still have deep seeded devotions I may not acknowledge readily enough. Many people define themselves more by who they are a fan of than what they do for a living, or maybe even more than their family if they’ve had a rough family life. I come from a great family, thank goodness, so my self-identity, I feel, has always been pretty strong without addition of fanaticism. I don’t go nuts for the Minnesota Vikings, but I certainly jump on the bandwagon when they go on a winning run, which is rarely. It’s honestly probably why I do get behind them at all. I wouldn’t have the patience for fanaticism if they were a dynasty, I think.
I learned yesterday, that I am in fact a fan though. I love being in Finland, and if it isn’t clear enough yet, I admire the country and its people immensely. But my reaction to the tough loss of an historic bronze medal at the hands of the Finns—the people I’m surrounded by and enjoy being surrounded by—exposed for me where my identity truly lies.
Consider, for example that Mimmu welled up with tears at Krista Parmakoski’s emphatic reaction to beating Jessie to the line. She had, after all, just slayed Goliath—the top skier in the world this season—off of what has been a very trying and disappointing season for her personally. What’s not to love about that?! The night before, Parmakoski took her coaches to task in front of reporters, not wanting to, nor feeling up to the task of racing Diggins in the last leg. So, it was an impressive thing to pull off, never mind that this was going to be one of her teammate’s 5th medal at the Worlds in this event, while the US has never won any. That’s sport.
The underdog isn’t always apparent, and despite deep Finnish skiing history, Parmakoski was the underdog yesterday. Finland was. In that respect, it’s moving to the people of her clan, of which Mimmu is one, and I realized clearly, that I am not. Nothing against Krista nor her teammates. I like them. But I wanted the US to win that medal, probably more than I knew it myself.
What’s amazing in realizing all of this is that Mimmu knows Jessie. She has never met Krista, nor any of the Finnish skiers on that team. And that is what blew me away, and what led me to unpack that a bit in this post.
When you ascribe yourself to a clan, it goes to the core of who you are, perhaps without even realizing it. I’ve often wondered at how miserable fans can feel about their team losing a big game or how ecstatic they can feel when their team wins a title. Sunderland Til I Die on Netflix really sucked me in on this topic. I highly recommend it if you find this interesting. Maybe if the Vikings ever won a Super Bowl, I could get it.
But yesterday, I did get it. Because I ascribe myself to Jessie’s clan, or at least Jessie and I ascribe ourselves to the same one. Mimmu, though she loves Jessie as the great person she is, ascribes herself in far deeper ways to Krista’s clan, than perhaps we even realize on the surface.
When you love a sports team, that is a choice of an identity. It can be really strong depending how deeply one might need to identify with others. For everyone, that’s going to be different based on their experiences in life. I believe people need clans, and sports teams fill that role in modern, regional identities in America. But it’s necessary everywhere. In some cases, it’s probably hardly a choice at all.
Imagine being a Minnesota Vikings fan (maybe you are?), but the affiliation had way more consequences historically. Imagine for a moment that, years and years ago, the Green Bay Packers came and took part of Minnesota with an army, and in the conflict, some Green Bay Packers soldiers died, and some Vikings soldiers died. Imagine, maybe your grandpa fought to keep the Packers out of Minnesota territory and some of his friends and family died in that struggle. Imagine the Packers took part of Minnesota and you had grandparents who grew up and lived in that area who had to leave it behind and relocate to another part of Minnesota, as the Packers ransacked that area and never ceded it back to the Vikings.
How might you feel about the Vikings? No matter who the Vikings ever come up against, you’re a Viking after all that. Even if your spouse is from Tennessee and his friend is the Titans quarterback, and they meet in a title game that Tennessee is favored to win. They’ve never won a title, but are favorites to win over Vikings but the Vikes win in a miracle last minute touchdown pass. How will you feel if the Vikings win that title game? I think tears well up in your eyes, is what I think. And you try to understand your spouse’s disappointment in the Titans loss.
Mimmu’s grandpa fought a war in defense of Finland, against a nation they compete against today, regularly in sports like skiing, on television. Think about the gravity of that when you think about why you hate YOUR rival's sports team. A nation invaded their country, and still have some of it behind their modern border, lines up against yours, in sports events, each wearing their national identities on their bodies. All that symbolism on display. America has nothing like that in its sports fandom. The hate is predicated largely on superfluous, petty issues designed to create a necessary adversary to harden your own clan’s identity as other. I think we forget stuff like that when we’ve enjoyed not a single war or true invasion of American territory.
It doesn’t matter to Finland that the United States is not that invading nation from the past, and they end up the loser in a sprint to the line for a bronze medal at the world championships. When Krista Parmakoski comes across an international finish line with the Finnish flag on her suit, it means something we as Americans probably can’t grasp. Tears well up, no matter how much Mimmu loves and respects Jessie Diggins.
It took yesterday for me to get that. Because I’m in Jessie’s tribe, like Mimmu is in Krista’s. And that’s just how it is. No offense to Jessie or Krista. I wore my country’s uniform even though not in any defense of our country, but I still did, and I believe in what she aims to be. And I have been a cog in the wheel of the system that has tried to raise Jessie and athletes like her, to the top of the world level in these ski sports. I am going to feel punched in the gut when Krista snatches my clan’s first ever medal in the event, even though I love my wife, her homeland, and even her national ski team, when it isn’t beating mine.
I have had to face many identity questions in the last 8 months. Our move here is certainly changing me, probably in some very positive ways. But you just don’t change that easily when you have deep seeded identities and loyalties developed over a lifetime. I just don’t think anyone with any emotional depth could pull that off so quickly without a massive trauma causing it.
Amazingly, a ski race spelled it out for me clearer than anything to date. I love Finland. My appreciation for being here with my family, and them being citizens is real and deep. But when I took a clear look in the mirror yesterday, I saw an American.