At 8:10 a.m. ET Sunday in Milan, Canada and the United States will play for Olympic gold in men’s hockey, and for a few hours, the country is going to feel a lot smaller than it usually does.
The stakes are obvious. So is the history. The last time Canada and the U.S. met for Olympic gold with best-on-best energy, it produced the most watched TV event in Canadian history. The 2010 Vancouver final averaged 16.6 million viewers, with 26.5 million Canadians watching at least part of it.
That record has stood for 16 years. It has survived elections, pandemics, cord-cutting, streaming, and a media landscape that has made it harder and harder for any single broadcast to capture an entire country at the same time.
And yet, Sunday might take a real run at it.
It will do so at an hour that usually kills big numbers. Breakfast hockey is not a traditional ratings window. But this is not a traditional game, either. It is Canada-U.S. for gold, with NHL players back in the Olympics for the first time since 2014, after a 12-year absence that has only sharpened the appetite.
That appetite showed itself last year when best-on-best returned in a different package. The Canada-U.S. final at the 4 Nations Face-Off drew a total Canadian audience of 10.7 million, with the Sportsnet broadcast averaging 5.7 million. The U.S. number was massive too, with ESPN reporting 9.3 million viewers and a 10.4 million peak.
Those are modern-era numbers that matter because they reset expectations. They also provide a useful reminder: the ceiling on Canada-U.S. hockey is still unusually high, even in a world where everyone claims they never watch anything live anymore.
The early start Sunday is already turning into part of the story. In Ontario, Premier Doug Ford is allowing bars and restaurants to serve alcohol starting at 6 a.m. ET so fans can gather for puck drop. British Columbia is making similar moves. A country that cannot agree on much will, for one morning, agree on what should be on the screen.
That is why James Duthie, who will host the game, sounded like a guy who knows exactly what it means when Canada is collectively locked in.
“When I’m asked the favourite event I’ve ever covered, my answer is always the 2010 gold medal game,” Duthie told me. “Those entire two weeks in Vancouver were magical, and the way it ended, it felt like nothing in our lifetime could match it. But Sunday has the potential to come close. There are just so many layers: the ridiculous talent, the rivalry, how long we’ve waited, and the fact we could be watching the best hockey that’s ever been played. I know everyone on our panel and crew just feel incredibly lucky to be here and see it, and hopefully do a great broadcast for the country.”
Mike Johnson will be on the broadcast as colour commentator, working between the benches, which is the closest seat in the building to the speed, the collisions, and the emotion that television can sometimes flatten. When I asked Johnson how it feels heading into what could be the most-watched event in Canadian TV history, he did not lean into the hype.
“I’m not really thinking in those terms, although it speaks to the interest of the entire country, which is very cool,” Johnson said. “I want it to be a good broadcast and try to do the game justice. I feel fortunate to be between the benches to be this close to such an anticipated game. I can’t wait for the game to start.”
Chris Cuthbert, who has called as many defining Canadian hockey moments as anyone alive, sees the parallels, and the differences, clearly.
“The 2010 Golden Medal Game was the most-watched event in Canadian television history. I didn’t expect anything would ever match that moment but here we are,” Cuthbert told me. “I always said if something could compare with 2010 I’d sign up for it. This Team Canada run to the Gold Medal game has been more compelling and exhilarating than 2010 but Vancouver was special, being at home and capping an unforgettable 2 weeks as the host country. But the 12 year wait for the NHL return, with McDavid and a new generation of stars, the political backdrop and the 4 Nations drama certainly puts this on a similar footing.”
That word, backdrop, is doing a lot of work. Sunday is not just a hockey game. It is a rivalry game staged in a moment where everything feels louder, more tribal, and more online than it did in 2010. That does not make it better. It does make it combustible, and compelling.
It also makes the audience question more interesting than it usually is. In 2010, Canadian viewing was easier to measure because it was more centralized. In 2026, the total audience will be spread across linear, streaming, mobile screens at work, and group viewing that is not always captured cleanly. Even the 2010 reporting acknowledged out-of-home viewing as part of the broader picture.
One senior TV executive I spoke with, who requested anonymity because they are not authorized to speak publicly about projections, expects the 2010 record to hold. Their estimate is that Sunday lands around 15 million Canadians. Enormous. National. But short of the Vancouver apex.
It is an understandable forecast. The 2010 final had the perfect window and the unbeatable home-country glow. It also had Crosby’s overtime finish, which turned a gold medal game into a cultural timestamp.
But Sunday has its own case. The talent level is higher. The rivalry is sharper. The wait has been longer. And the country has recent proof of concept from the 4 Nations final, which delivered a modern ratings spike in both Canada and the U.S.
In the United States, the 4 Nations championship audience also matters as a signal. Hockey is rarely described as a mass sport south of the border, but Canada-U.S. still cuts through, especially when the game is meaningful and the stars are on the ice.
All of it builds to the simplest truth about Sunday morning.
There are not many remaining live events that can still pull Canada into the same moment at the same time. That is what the 2010 game did, with 16.6 million watching on average and 26.5 million tuning in for at least part of it.
Sunday has a chance to get close, even from breakfast.
Not because Canada needs another “where were you” hockey story. It does not. But because every so often, the sport still delivers a game that feels like it belongs to everyone, even in a country that is increasingly watching everything alone.