Kariya Is Savoring His Golden Moment

The smile just won’t go away. Not now, not for a very long time. And before last weekend, when was the last time anybody saw Paul Kariya smile?

Kariya was back at the Pond on Wednesday. His Mighty Duck team, which long ago lost its hopes for the playoffs, began the slog to the end of the season Wednesday night against Minnesota.

For the rest of the season, Kariya will be playing hockey in a half-empty home arena that will be almost entirely empty of enthusiasm or hope. The dreadfulness of the Ducks has been going on for two long years. Kariya has been the good soldier, the star quietly stuck in the mud.

Then, suddenly, magic filled his life. He played in a sold-out arena. He played before fans who wouldn’t quit cheering. He played for a nation that wouldn’t stop hoping. He has an Olympic gold medal. His country, Canada, is fulfilled.

His hands have become both a cradle and a jail. A warning: Don’t try and take, not even in jest, this medal away from Kariya. Don’t even innocently reach for a touch of the heavy, oddly shaped object. If you do, Kariya’s fingers will close around the medal and he will stop you with his stare.

But the smile is still there.

It is a smile of joy. It is a smile of relief. It is a smile of wonder and amazement and if you think pro athletes don’t appreciate the Olympics, don’t understand the honor that it was to compete with countrymen, then look at Paul Kariya.

He sent his mother, Sharon, home to Vancouver from Salt Lake City with his Canadian team jersey. Kariya gave his mother one order. Don’t put the jersey in checked luggage. So Sharon wore the jersey home. Unwashed.

“It was covered with tears, sweat and champagne,” Kariya said. “It was covered with everything I went through to get here.”

Standing in a corridor outside the Mighty Duck locker room Wednesday morning, wearing faded blue jeans and a T-shirt underneath another of his Canadian team sweaters, with the gold medal on a blue ribbon around his neck, Kariya looked like a little boy who had received every Christmas present he had ever wished for. He had a little boy’s wonder in his eyes, a little boy’s delight in his voice.

And it was as a little boy that Kariya first nurtured his Olympic dream.

He is not a large man, listed as 5-10 and 176 pounds but not looking that tall or that heavy. Kariya was not a large child either, and when the hockey experts filled with knowledge of the national game watched young Kariya skate with grace and speed and measured him with their eyes, they would tell him that he would not be big enough for the NHL, but as an amateur, he could aim for the Olympics, with the bigger ice.

“I was always being told I was too small for the NHL but I’d be perfect for the Olympics,” Kariya said. “I believed in that and it was always in my mind, that some day I could win a gold medal.”

Some day was a long time coming. Before he became a full-time Mighty Duck, Kariya played for Canada in the 1994 Olympics. Kariya led Canada with seven points in eight games but the silver medal that Canada won was not celebrated. It was mourned. Only gold is good enough.

In 1998, when NHL players made their Olympic debut, Kariya had been named to the Canadian team. He suffered a season-ending concussion on Feb. 1, though, and missed the Nagano experience. The Canadians kind of missed that experience too, finishing fourth.

A slap shot can’t travel any faster than Kariya’s 2002 Olympic experience. It was 10 days of pressure, intense involvement with nothing but Canada, Canadians, all things maple leaf. It was practice, loss to Sweden, practice, worry, sleepless nights, practice, games, and suddenly it was Sunday and the gold medals were in a big box waiting for the players from the U.S. or from Canada.

Kariya scored a goal in the gold-medal game. He skated in a blur, felt nothing because he was afraid to think or breathe or imagine the moment when it arrived.

It was the moment when Kariya and his teammates stood on a medals podium with the heavy medal around their necks, eyes turned to the Canadian flag, voices raised. “O Canada.”

Kariya’s eyes were wet with tears as the anthem played. “I couldn’t feel my legs,” Kariya said, “or anything else. I was numb all over. I can’t explain it, except that I was numb. I couldn’t feel my body.”

Since Sunday night, Kariya hasn’t let go of that medal. He went to the Salt Lake City airport Monday with the medal in his hand. The airport was a madhouse. People were waiting up to seven hours just to check their baggage. When Kariya called the Ducks to say he might miss his flight, Disney dispatched a private jet for the gold-medal winner. It was not Kariya’s choice, but this one time he accepted the perk.

“All of Canada stopped Sunday,” Kariya said. “I heard there were no cars on the streets of Toronto. Nobody in Newfoundland cares if I win the Stanley Cup, but they care if I win the Olympics.”

Kariya’s grandfather, Alan Upton, is going to make a box for the gold medal.

Into the box, with the medal, Kariya will have to store this special joy, this amazing, incredible happiness.

It’s back to the Ducks now.

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iane Pucin can be reached at diane.pucin@latimes.com.