Reflecting on the 1980 Olympics - Miracle on Ice

I'm not big on politics, and I'm not a hockey fan. Politics bore me, especially since it's all a big smooze job these days. No one really stands for anything nowadays: it's just rhetoric and dollars. It's about personal power, not making our nation greater. As for hockey, it's way too violent for my tastes. I don't like football or boxing for the same reasons - too much blood and gore. Besides, when, as a child, I went with my uncle to a hockey game in Oakland, I could never follow the puck. I was so confused. It sealed hockey's fate in my life - no, thank you.

However, I love the Olympics and have watched both the Summer and Winter versions religiously for as long as I can remember. I loved it the best when things were shown live, in real time. I hate this tape delay concept they live by these days. That's another subject, though.

I clearly recall getting caught up in the hockey match in the 1980 Olympics. While I don't like politics, and hockey makes me shudder, as a young woman, I was well aware that the game between the USA and Russia had little to do with hockey itself. It wasn't about the normal bragging rights that accompany a sporting event. This was about our nation. We were sending a message.

Sprawled out in front of the TV for that game, I recall being breathless with the game as it unfolded. When Al Michael's shouted, "Do you believe in miracles?", I shouted, "Yes!" in reply. When the horn sounded, I was on my feet, cheering and applauding. We'd won, and we'd delivered the message - we are the USA, and you can't mess with us.

Jim Craig captured my heart during those hockey games. His story was probably told more than any other player's, about his mother's death and what this accomplishment meant to him and also to his father. Who can forget him looking into the crowd, searching for his father?

I remember when the coach, Herb Brooks, walked off the ice and down the corridor, out of camera's sights. It seemed odd at the time, but I wasn't focused on it. I was too enraptured by the young men who had just given our nation a big shot in the arm.

Then, the ultimate, when team captain Mike Eruzione signaled for the entire team to join him on the podium, and, somehow, miraculously, they all did, huddled together in that moment of tremendous joy and pride.

As often happens, probably before the Olympics were over, a TV movie was in the words - "Miracle on Ice." Then I understood Brooks' departure, as he gave the boys their time to shine because it was their moment, not his.

Years later, a theatrical film was released - "Miracle" - and it, too, increased my understanding of the coach and the men who gave America a moment that will never be forgotten.

Both films still bring tears to my eyes, just like the actual event did. I still can evoke those same emotions from the day of the big game, when the underdog defeated the mighty villain. I hope the films and all the literature written about that time helps future generations to remember the 1980 Olympics and what it meant to our nation at that time. It was magic. Actually, it was more than that.

Yes, Al Michaels, it was a miracle, and I still believe in them!

Go USA!