Do you know where you were on February 22, 1980? I’m sure there were plenty of events world-wide that transpired on that particular day, but if you were even a casual hockey fan, or watched the Olympics, then by all accounts you were in front of a television watching Team U.S.A. deliver what Sports Illustrated has called the greatest sporting moment of the 20th century. I am speaking of course, about The Miracle on Ice. When 20 kids, mostly from Minnesota, defeated the Red Machine of the USSR.
I know exactly where I was, and who I was with. My cousin Brian and I were glued in front of the set at my house on 1312 Santanella. We had watched enough of the tournament to have become very familiar with the players on the team and for the game against the Soviets decided to do our own play-by-play, recording our call on the game into my little plastic, blue, Radio-Shac recorder. Man I wish I still had that tape. As the game progressed and we reveled in every one of Jim Craig’s saves, 36 of them, and the first three goals, Brian and I knew that we had a chance.
We were 10 years old and the political implications that magnified that event were only just beginning to reach us. We knew enough about the “Russians” to know they were to be treated as villains. We also knew that there was no way we should be tied at three goals with just over 10 minutes left in the game. And then it happened.
Throughout the Olympic games, Mike Eruzione became our favorite player. I think it was that way for almost everyone. A story like this mandates a hero, Babyface Eruzione was that hero. And at the 10:00 mark of the third period, he ascended to take his place with the goal that would galvanize a nation, shock the rest of the world and send 2 ten year-old boys into a fit of hysteria that some 27 years later still sends chills down my spine when I think of it.
Photography is unique in that it can capture that finite moment in time for an infinite period of time. A split second that has come to represent so many things on so many levels is preserved. Yes it’s cool to watch the replays on ESPN with Al Michaels’ call of “Do you believe in miracles? Yes!” And to see the build up unfold over the course of the entire game, but to me nothing illustrates the moment better than this picture. The sticks held high, the reaction of the crowd mirroring the celebration on the ice. I can hear the chants of U.S.A., U.S.A. I don’t need the audio. Just this moment. A miracle.
