A Collective National Orgasm?

So the Canadian women won the gold in curling and hockey, the men are beating the piss out of the British in the curling final, and the men's hockey have the U.S. and Sweden between them and gold. How big of a freak out will the Canucks have if they can sweep gold in all four?  I think they might just burn America's Hat (or toque to them) to the ground.

Update: Only Sweden stands in the way of what would seem to be a perfect Olympics for America Jr.

Further Update:  Adam Gopnik with a more Canadian reaction to their hockey success:

I’m sure that there will be Americans disappointed at the loss, but if it’s any consolation, an American watching her team lose in international hockey just can’t compare, for emotional weight, with a Canadian watching her team win. Hockey is Canada—it just is—and the sense of pleasure flooding over my homeland was palpable today, represented by a steady stream of e-mails and texts and phone calls. You could practically feel it, as tangibly as any polar vortex. (That cold north wind that blew across the city around 3 P.M.? The exhalation of relieved Canadians.)
Even more than today’s solid showing, even more than yesterday’s unforgettable win—and even if Canada brings home a second gold medal in hockey after Sunday’s game against Sweden—what I suspect will go down in Canadian history is the message the core of the women’s team left in the men’s locker room before the semifinal: “Tonight is yours. Own the moment. We are proof that every minute matters. The podium is reserved for the brave. Earn every inch. Dictate the pace. Go get em! From the girls!” There’s something beautifully Canadian about the juxtaposition of the big rhetorical flourishes and the modest descant of that “from the girls.”

Ahhh.  I still like the idea of mass mayhem better.