Chance encounters and a Gold Medal - Part 13

Link to part 12

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The day after the nail‑biting Switzerland–Canada women’s hockey game (which I will discuss in another post), we headed to shift #7. After three consecutive outdoor shifts, we asked, very politely, to be stationed inside, and our wish was granted. By now, you probably know our routine, so this time I’m taking a different angle. Instead of the usual play‑by‑play, I want to talk about the chance encounters that seem to multiply during every shift… especially this one.

My first memorable encounter that day came when I spotted two Canadians in bright red fleeces approaching my door. The name embroidered on the chest (Valérie Maltais) gave them away instantly. With a smile, I asked in French, “Are you the parents?”

Indeed they were. Like many others, they were surprised to find a Quebecer in a volunteer uniform and peppered me with questions about the process and my experience. As we chatted, more family members joined them, and Valérie’s father joked, “Look, I’m practicing my English!” Of course, we were speaking French. When I teased him—“You’re practicing English with me, a girl from Quebec?”—he doubled down: “Yes! That’s when my English is at its best!” The man could have his own comedy set.

A little later, I told Dave I probably wouldn’t have much material for the blog that day and might need to combine two shifts. Naturally, that’s when the universe decided to prove me wrong. I noticed a woman balancing one burger, two Aperol Spritzes, and a bottle of water. She paused at a bistro table to reorganize her precarious load, and I offered help. She initially refused, insisting she would “double down that burger” and then carry everything. I told her that was ridiculous and that I’d be thrilled to help.

Once she finally accepted, she casually mentioned, “That drink is for Piper Gilles.”

Wait—what?

So off we went toward Section A18, the VIP area. I asked if she was an athlete or how she knew Piper. She explained that she wasn’t competing; she was simply here to support her friend. (For context: Piper Gilles, ice dancer, and her partner Paul Poirier had just won bronze the week before.) We reached the VIP zone (my first time there) and the initial security checks waved us through. But at A18, the woman (Kai) was stopped. I flashed my accreditation, and suddenly I was escorting her straight to Row 11, where Paul Poirier was sitting. Kai asked where Piper was. Paul replied, “She’s in the restroom.”

Kay handed him the drink and turned to leave. That’s when it hit me: without me, she wouldn’t have been able to deliver that Aperol Spritz at all. A true Olympic‑level chance encounter. So yes, let it be known that Piper Gilles received an Aperol Spritz during a speed skating competition because of me.

Kai was lovely and gave me a pin as thanks. While handing it over, she complimented my nails (now proudly painted in Canadian colors with a maple leaf the nail artist recreated from my pin). Her own nails, decorated with Olympic rings, were equally impressive. I chatted with countless Canadians that day—especially when I heard a French‑Canadian accent. That's how I ended up chatting with Ivanie Blondin`s cousin as well. But as fun as all these chance encounters were and the “almost meeting Piper Gilles” moment was, it wasn’t the highlight of that shift.

I am not the type for gel nails but I am pretty much "going all out" for team Canada!

The Canadian women won the 3000m Team Pursuit. And I was there! I watched their semifinal and then the gold‑medal race. A gold medal meant one thing: the Canadian national anthem would be played in the arena. I wasn’t going to miss that. When a supervisor came by to bring volunteers down for exit duty, she walked right past Dave and me. I think she knew... Thank you, Alessa, for letting me live out something I’ve dreamed of since childhood.

This is the view I had of the Female Speed Skating team jumping on their podium.

I mentioned this in Part 1: when I was 13, I dreamed of hearing O Canada played at the Olympic Games—for me. I even wrote an essay about it in Grade 8 French class.

Forty years later, there I was, standing in an arena as the Canadian anthem played during a medal ceremony. Not for me, of course—I had nothing to do with that victory. But it still felt like a full‑circle moment as I was transported back to 13 year old Isabelle that was dreaming of doing big things! And you know what? She does, she really does! (And now I am crying a little).

Link to Part 14

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