"Five seconds left in the game. Do you believe in miracles? YES!"
Al Michaels
Miracle
2004
As a broadcaster speaks those words, the world gasps in anticipation for a miracle, we cross our fingers for a victory, and fall to our knees in accomplishment. We've all been in that situation; rooting for our team, hoping for a last second win, even wanting some sort of miracle to pop out of the sky. Well... for these men, Miracle was a euphemism for the US Hockey team. Miracle was an underestimated term for the strive and drive for the gold; the mission to complete the man that made the team; who was told he'd never have a chance again.
Set at the Lake Placid Olympics in 1980, a team was lead by Coach Herb Brooks. The US Hockey team defeats the Soviet Union and then the Finland team in a highly anticipated match up; which delievers a miracle in the symbol of a gold medal.
The miracle was in the heart of that man; Coach Herb, who was cut from the 1960's US Olympic team; yet he knew he had to coach and win a victory to chase his dream, that was once obsolete. When dreams and aspirations are taken away from a person prematurely; heart and dedication become the catalyst to all existence. What I enjoyed about this story was the power in the mission of one man to come out winning with a team of individuals who eventually became comrades on the ice.
When the miracle in the sport was destined to place a near second; the hunt for the gold came down to the last ten minutes, and their advantage was protected.
Hockey is an intriguing sport. Ice Hockey is a competitive drill. By drill, I mean, the nail driving pounding on the edge of your seat spectacle, that exudes all confidence in your ego. That puck; as fluid as it moves on the ice, is quick like a man who becomes as powerful as his stick. That puck becomes the control, in a head game with agility, and power.
I used to play roller hockey; it was intense. Ice hockey was for the courageous; maybe I lacked that intrigue or confidence; so I kept my distance.
But, I reflect back and see a vision of what it felt like to make contact with that puck; what it felt to make the intensity fly in the wind, that split second blink of time where making contact was my victory, and scoring a goal was like a gold medal acheivement. It was my accomplishment; it was my calling. Being on that team was more important than the passion in the sport. We were in it together; how often can you say that about a team?
"When you pull on that jersey, you represent yourself and your teammates. And the name on the front is a hell of alot more important than the one on the back! Get that through your head! - Herb Brooks
As we watch the US team compete; we watch the game changing passion evolve. Life's competition is like that puck as it makes contact with the stick. It takes practice, it takes skill, it takes timing; because we all know what can and cannot be said, done or accomplished in a minute's moment. We all know what it feels like to be waiting for the clock to run out when we've discovered our lead is inevitable. Yet, when we need a few more seconds to prove our worth; we grab onto our stick and make contact with that puck one more time while our teammates set the stage for victory.
"USA! USA! USA!" - The crowd
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