Remembering Herb Brooks and the "Miracle on Ice"

Several months ago I had the opportunity to see the HBO documentary “Do You Believe In Miracles? The Story of the 1980 U.S. Hockey Team,”
The film was interesting in that it did not simply trace the path of the US team, but it placed the events into the historical context of the United States in the 1970’s. Malaise had gripped the nation with the end of the Vietnam War, Watergate,and inflation. The Soviets had invaded Afghanistan and President Carter’s threat of a boycott of the Summer Olympics in Moscow took a further toll on the psyche of the nation. The movie showed how the young skaters and their battles on the ice became symbolic of the Cold War for a nation badly in need of a win.
It was the man behind the team that gave the US that victory that was also amazing.
Herb Brooks was chosen to coach the US team that year. In 1960 Brooks himself was on the Olympic team but was cut just days before the Olympics started. That was the last year that the US won Olympic Gold in hockey. The Russians had dominated the sport for the next four Olympics and Brooks was determined to end that streak.
He assembled a team of young collegiate skaters from Minnesota, Wisconsin and Massachusetts. He drove them hard, mentally and physically. Bringing in new players and threatening the teammembers with replacement until just before the games were to begin. What he did next was pure genius.
A week before the start of the Games in Lake Placid, New York, Brooks scheduled the team to play the Russian National team in Madison Square Garden. These were the men that had won four straight Olympics gold medals. The Russian Army Team that had beaten the US and Canadian pro teams. The team that Brooks touted to his skaters as the best team in the world. The team that could not be beaten. Needless to say, the kids on the US team were demolished.
With only a week to go for the start of the Olympic games Brooks began to change his tune about the Russians. They were old. They were slow. They were funny looking. When the two teams meet again the Russians are over confidant but the Americans are ready to play. At the final buzzer,with the US ahead 4-3 announcer Al Micheals declares "Do you believe in miracles?" and the chant U.S.A. U.S.A. U.S.A. lifted a nation.

I was reminded of this story when I read that Herb Brooks, who was killed in a car accident in his native Minnesota in 2003, was inducted into the Hockey Hall of Fame November 13, 2006.

Here are the final two minutes of that game and the celebration that ensued. It is interesting to note that after the game was over Brooks can be seen walking back to the locker room alone. Leaving the ice to his kids that made the miracle happen.

From the Salmon Library

Editors note: I recently added an Amazon widg-gidget to the sidebar and as I rotate out the old selections for the new I would like to briefly comment on those selections from The Salmon Library.

“The Shack”, by William Young

This best seller drew criticism from some corners because I think there were objections to the main character, despondent over the murder of his young daughter, spending a week end with the Holy Trinity. No doubt the embodiment of God, in what I pictured as a jolly Oprah Winfrey, cooking the four of them dinner and doling out bits of Divine wisdom over coffee could be viewed as some sort of heresy by some.

That said, I personally liked the book and I think it was commercially successful because it focused on the importance of Love above everything else. If you can simply follow the instructions of Jesus and love your neighbor as yourself, or better yet go so far as to love your enemies, everything else will more easily fall into place. For me it circumvents the human bias or institutional and doctrinal elements that can be so troublesome in organized religion today.

As someone once wrote “All you need is love, love, love is all you need.” How hard can that be?

"The Box Car Children" by Gertrude Chandler Warner

You are probably wondering how a children's book ended up in the Salmon library. A funny thing happened at the used book store I frequent. Arwen went with me and I planted her in the kids section while I browsed the store. When I came back, I couldn't find her which of course scared the heck out of me, thankfully I located her two aisles over in the kids "chapter book" section.

She had her heart set on a Hannah Montana book so I quickly looked around to find something a little more literary if that is possible in the kids section. I looked up from where she was sitting and lo and behold there was an assortment of the "Box Car Children" series , a book I remember from my youth.

This is bit ridiculous perhaps but this book was something (along with an overdose of John Wayne movies) that I think helped shaped my world view. Here was a group of orphans during the depression that stick together as a family and through hard work and self reliance set up house in an old boxcar. Of course, just like in real life, they discover they have a rich grandfather and they all live happily ever after.

After a few minutes of negotiation I convinced Arwen that this was way cooler than Hannah Montana and that we would read a chapter a night. She really latched on to the adventure as I related our own camping trips. Our nightly reading session became a hit. Now in my quest to turn her into a mini-me I am thinking we might move on to the adventures of Tom and Huck.

"Do You Believe in Miracles? The Story of the 1980 U.S. Hockey Team" (2001)

From the library's video section I have added this HBO documentary about the 1980 Olympic Ice Hockey gold medal win. I wrote on this several years ago when it was presented as part of an American History course I was in a the time. I recently found a copy at our local second hand store for four bucks and couldn't pass it up. If this story doesn't bring a tear to your eye you got to be a commie;)

Graduation Day

Leave it to the wisdom of a six year old to ground a person that is in need of frequent re-grounding. Last Saturday afternoon we had just returned home after lunch with friends and I assumed my normal position on the family room couch for a much deserved nap. The dog was barking at the back door, six feet from my position of repose, and I called for my littlest Angel, who was in the west wing of Casa de Salmon, to come to my assistance. She huffed to the back door, let the dogs in, and as she stormed past declared, “It may be your special day Dad, but it’s not all about you!” Did I mention that she is only six?

Several years ago I had reached a crossroads in my life. My wife and I had married in February 2002 and soon thereafter we left Alaska when I accepted a short lived job with USA Today in Michigan. Eight months later and severely pregnant we were loading up a truck and moving a second time to Minnesota. Once again I found that I had landed another terrible job in the rapidly dying newspaper industry and a year later I was at a loss as to what to do next. I was torn between finding another newspaper or doing something new which would require some retooling.

I always regretted not going to college but it was not something I remember being stressed in our house as a kid. Instead I elected to enter the Army right after high school. In Uncle Sam’s infinite wisdom I was offered an opportunity to go to West Point shortly after entering basic training. What were they thinking, were they that desperate for officers? I was seventeen, had escaped the grip of high school by the skin of my teeth, and in my current position as grunt trainee was not sure that the military was a career path I was particularly enamored with. In my infinite ignorance I declined. Eventually I served my time, found a trade, dabbled in a few classes at the local community college, but by and large just got on with life until the events described above.

I’m sure that anyone that has contemplated a midlife transition has at some point found himself filled with doubts and fears, I was no different. Fortunately I had unwittingly married an Angel and she suggested that we pack up and return to Iowa where I could attend school full time while she would support us. Little did I realize what “support” would mean.

It would mean her working overtime while I studied and worked part time at near minimum wage. It would mean that she would work miracles with the checkbook so I could spend a week at Oshkosh. It would mean giving moral support, prodding, and the occasional beating to this recalcitrant non-traditional student to keep me focused on the goal that had been set. Essentially it would mean that her Angel like qualities would be tested to their limits.

We finally graduated Saturday and I say we because without the help of my two Angels this dream would not have been realized. Commencement was indeed a special day and the degree an accomplishment that I will always cherish but as my little Angel pointed out, it was certainly not all about me.