They Heard Me. They Answered. Our Lions Have Returned.

They Heard Me. They Answered. Our Lions Have Returned.

By Viktor Novotný, Senior Hockey Correspondent  |  Inwood Ice Arena, Lake Placid  |  May 4, 2026

I owe these men an apology. Not a full one — the round robin was still a disgrace and I stand by every word I wrote — but an apology nonetheless. Because what Czechoslovakia produced at Inwood Ice Arena on the night of May 4th was not merely a hockey victory. It was a statement. It was a reckoning. It was, dare I say it, the team I knew they were all along.

Czechoslovakia 8, Canada 2. Read that again. Savor it. The same program that stumbled and skidded through five round robin games — that gave up nine to Finland, fifteen to the Soviets, ten to a group of American college students — walked onto the ice in an elimination game and dismantled Canada with the authority of champions. I sat in the press box with my pen ready and found, for the first time all tournament, that I could barely keep up. There was simply too much good hockey to record.

Orzechowski. Remember that name. Carve it somewhere permanent.

DJ Orzechowski scored three goals. A hat trick. In an Olympic medal round elimination game. He struck first at 13:59 of the opening period, establishing the tone immediately and without apology, then returned in the third period to add two more — the second at 11:08, the third at 7:18 — to close out the scoring and cement his place as the undisputed star of this extraordinary night. He was everywhere on the ice, sharp and relentless, playing with the hunger and precision that had been so conspicuously absent from this roster through the round robin. Whatever conversation took place in that locker room before puck drop, Orzechowski absorbed every word and carried it onto the ice in three very concrete installments.

Cankar was electric. The kind of player we came here expecting to see.

Andrew Cankar, number 22, gave us two goals and an assist and looked every inch the forward this program was built around. His first goal came late in the opening period, his second in the third, and the assist he laid on goal five in the second period was a display of instinct and timing that drew a genuine murmur from the press box. Cankar did not look like a man playing under pressure tonight. He looked liberated. Something in the preparation for this game unlocked the player we had been waiting all tournament to see, and he responded by producing one of the finest individual performances of the entire Olympic competition.

The Donchez men — father and son — and a defense that finally held firm.

Brian Donchez the father, number 84 at forward, scored twice and assisted once. Brian Donchez the son, number 94 on defense, contributed two assists and brought a composed physicality to the blue line that kept Canadian pressure organized and largely harmless. Five combined points between them — a family affair worth noting.

The defense as a whole deserves recognition that it has not received in my previous dispatches — because frankly it had not earned any. Tonight was different. Stephen Sokoloski at defense not only held his position throughout but scored a goal, crashing the net with the confidence of a man who had been told his contributions mattered and believed it. John Lesnik, quietly excellent, collected two assists and made smart decisions with the puck in every situation Canada created. These are not glamorous statistics. They are the statistics of a defense that understood its job and performed it.

Kranz, Kenney, Pelton, Doom — the names that do the unglamorous work.

Mark Kranz assisted on goal three in the first period. Dan Kenney assisted on goal five. Brant Pelton and Todd Doom each picked up a point. These are not the names that will headline the tournament summary or appear on commemorative banners. They are the names that make a hockey team actually function — the players who win battles along the boards, who take the right angle on the forecheck, who make the pass that leads to the pass that leads to the goal. In the round robin, these players were ghosts. Tonight they were present, engaged, and effective, and the scoreline reflects it.

Czechoslovakia put 33 shots on the Canadian net. Thirty-three. We outshot Canada by eleven. We scored in all three periods. We shut Canada out entirely in the second. This was not a survival — it was a statement of territorial dominance delivered over forty-five minutes of purposeful, well-structured, deeply satisfying hockey. The round robin version of this team gave up goals in bunches and collapsed under pressure. The team I watched tonight created pressure, sustained it, and refused to relinquish it.

That locker room looks different to me now.

I think of those jerseys hanging in a row — Orzechowski, Cankar, Kranz, Kenney, Pelton, Sokoloski, two that say Donchez — and I think of what it must have felt like to put them on tonight after the tournament this team has endured. After my criticisms. After the embarrassment of last place. After the articles. They put those jerseys on and played the finest game of this entire Olympic tournament.

And yes — I think again of that machine. That enormous, immovable, inexplicably ancient Fleming Gray skate sharpening apparatus sitting in the center of the dressing room on its little wooden table. I used it in my last dispatch as a symbol of a program grinding away with yesterday's tools. I may have been too hasty. Tonight every edge was sharp. Every player on this roster found something — found their game, found their legs, found their pride — and produced a performance that this nation will not forget quickly. The machine works. Tonight, all of them did.

The tournament continues. Viktor Novotný will be watching — still skeptical, still demanding, still holding this program to the standard it set for itself when it arrived in Lake Placid as a favorite. But tonight, for one evening at least, I am proud to hold these press credentials again.