Breaking Down a Miracle on Ice Movie: Looking for Lake Placid

After bidding a sad adieu to Les Auge (whose humorous presence will be missed in this film), the action moves to the team bus traveling down a mostly deserted, dark highway at night. The camera pans in on Coach Patrick and Herb snoozing in the front row, and it’s good to see Herb doing something as normal and non-confrontational as sleeping. Perhaps it will lower his blood pressure.

As the bus moves along, Pav’s guitar strums the tune to Simon and Garfunkel’s classic tune about the New Jersey turnpike and its endless bumper-to-bumper traffic jams, and he sings us “America” in a melancholic voice:

Once Pav finishes his singing, Jim notes to Rizzo, who is sitting next to him, “I’m just looking for one small town in America, Lake Placid.” That must have been harder to do before the days of Google Maps, so that’s quite a quest.

Rizzo responds playfully, “Lake Placid? I’ve never heard of it. Don’t worry, Jimmy. If it’s got less than ten thousand people, Brooks has got it on the schedule.”

The guy behind Jim whose face I can’t read well in the dark bus (so I don’t know who he is, basically), comments, “I personally don’t think the place exists. Probably just Brooks’ way of getting a hockey team together.” I think he should adjust his tin foil hat because the conspiracy theory reception isn’t too good, but he’d probably just assure me:

The person behind Rizzo puts in, “You know what I think? We all died and went to hockey players’ hell.” Nah, hockey players’ hell wasn’t invented until John Tortorella (who really should have an award for the biggest coaching meltdown given in his honor, or, really, disgrace each year) began his NHL coaching career. For proof of what I mean, check out this charming video of Tortorella roasting his players alive:

Remember that’s what Tortorella does in front of rolling cameras. He’s probably even more of a Grade A jerk in private, but moving along from Tortorella’s Broadway productions because he’s now been fired by two different NHL franchises in two consecutive seasons which makes him not particularly relevant to the hockey world anymore (thank you, hockey gods), let’s get back to our 1980 adventure.

Some teammate from the front of the bus, shouts over his shoulder, “Hey, will you guys shut up? Some civilized people up front want to get some sleep.” Come on, man. A team bus is meant to be loud, so that tells the audience:

At this point, Jim decides to open up and start relating his whole life story to Pav, saying, “You know, when I was a kid, I never slept. Not a lot. Used to get up at four o’clock in the morning to play hockey. My mother would be in the kitchen fixing breakfast. She was healthy then. Anyway, I used to play with the older guys on the pond. My kid brother plays there now. The older guys had cars, so I’d slip downstairs and stay near the heater to keep warm and close to the door so I could hear the horn of the car. It really felt good being the youngest allowed to play.” This is cute, because I know that Jim liked to slip his mother notes in the morning and stuff.

Pav points out, “Except they made you play in net.” Ha. That’s funny because my brother is a goalie, but I’ve always said that the only reason he became one was for the masks. Goalies get to customize their masks, which I suspect is one of those bones the hockey community threw them because otherwise no one would be willing to take that awful job. (If you’re the goalie, you can make thirty saves and still get booed for the one you miss, and also you wear so much protective equipment that if you want to hug a teammate you risk suffocating him; goalie fights are like two men attempting to dance with beach balls glued all over their bodies). Basically, the thing is, if you weren’t a very odd person before you became a goalie, you would be after a few seasons of it, and it shows. Some of those goalie masks look like creations serial killers would make out of their victims (looking at you, Carey Price). Some look like the ultimate foray into geekdom (Kari Lehtonen! Peter Budaj!). I love that every goalie’s psyche is right out there on display. (And, in the case of the one that looks like brains: way to take that literally.) Gives you something to analyze during breaks in the action.

“Nah,” Jim answers. “That was just when I was in high school. They supplied the goalie’s equipment. Besides, my mother figured that goal was the safest place.” That’s odd. I thought Jimmy was pretty much always a goaltender even when he played pond hockey as a kid, because I remember him saying somewhere that he wanted to play but didn’t understand all the rules, so being a goalie was simple since all he had to do was keep the puck out of the net. I’m going to trust my memory more than this film. In short, movie:

Speaking of playing with older guys, Bah remarks, “When I was a freshman I played for Duluth against the ’76 squad. Man, I thought those guys were ten feet tall.”

“Hey, Bah,” Buzz teases, “tell them how you scored the winning goal against us in overtime.” That sounds like a cool moment. Was it as awesome as TJ Oshie’s shootout goal against Russia?

“Yeah, hare-brain,” retorts Bah, “for the four-hundred and seventy-fifth time.” Everyone laughs uproariously, as Bah continues, “Migraine headache number two.”

“What’s number one?” shouts somebody from the front of the bus (and the poor lighting in this scene is driving me nuts, because it makes it even harder to identify characters who all look the same).

Being all sociable for once, Jimmy jokes, “ ‘Where’s Brooks? O’Callahan’s looking for him.’” That’s actually pretty funny, because it gives me a mental image of OC going after Herb like Roy going after Perry in this hilarious gif:

Now I just wish the movie would show Herb and O’Callahan at each other’s throats. That would be better than ten million renditions of Herb giving Rizzo and Jimmy a hard time. Oh, well, we can’t have everything we want in life, so moving along with the film, Rizzo decides to end the fun by warning, “Hey, you guys better take it easy. He’ll hear you. Let’s get some sleep.” Then Rizzo curls up in his chair like a total baby, and the bus rolls along.

Not actually going to sleep, Rizzo tells Jimmy in a quiet voice, “Hey, Jimmy. All that stuff is behind you now. Got to think to the future.” Okay, Rizzo, I realize you were just trying to be sympathetic there, but you sound like a total moron, since that’s not how the stages of grief work. The stages of grief are: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, and freaking denial and anger again. Okay, I invented the last bit to make a point, but hear me out. Grief is a process. You don’t get over losing your mother the same way you move beyond losing a sock (never a whole pair, of course) in the washing machine unless you are a sociopath.

“Future?” Jim asks. “Actually, I was thinking about my ma. I guess there’s a connection somewhere.” Of course there is. The connection is in Lake Placid, the place where we’re all looking for…

 

Breaking Down a Miracle on Ice Movie: A Musical and Pictorial Odyssey through Europe

Now that Herb’s rattled a can under important people’s noses to fundraise pennies for his boys, the scene shifts to an airport. Inside one of the planes, Coach Patrick is shouting at the team to settle down because he wants to take a headcount, just as if this were an elementary school field trip.

After boarding the plane and flirting with a stewardess, OC (whose arrival proves that Coach Patrick should have waited until the final boarding call to begin his headcount) calls out to Coach Patrick that there’s a reporter outside wanting to interview Jimmy.

Leaning over Rizzo’s seat, Coach Patrick asks if Mike’s heard from Jimmy and Rizzo replies that he hasn’t, but he supposes that Jimmy’s going to show. This is a really weird conversation, to be honest. Shouldn’t Coach Patrick, who presumably booked the plane tickets, have the best idea of who is coming on the trip? Why would you buy planes tickets without being certain of how many people are going, and how do you, if you are in a position of authority on a journey, board a plane without a complete tally of how many members are in your group? Also, why even attempt a headcount if you aren’t sure how many heads you are supposed to be counting? Is it just to soothe pre-flight nerves or something? At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised if this travel scenario ended as well as wrong way one during the cross-country trip in Dumb and Dumber did:

Craning his head to address OC, Coach Patrick instructs OC to just tell the reporter that Herb doesn’t allow interviews. This is a good piece of characterization since Herb’s hostile attitude toward interaction with the media was very reminiscent of Tortorella:

Showing how different plane security was back then, OC just gets off the plane to pass this message along to the reporter, whereas now he wouldn’t be allowed to just turn around and get off the plane, and the reporter wouldn’t have been allowed near the runway without a boarding pass.

A moment later, Jim bounds onto the plane and is greeted with a lot of playful swats from his teammates because:

As he takes his seat, Jim comments, “You guys aren’t going to the hotspots of Europe without me.” Then there is a lot of laughter and corny (and rather inaudible) joking about this statement. After that, while dramatic music swells in the background, the plane takes off, and the team has officially embarked on their European adventure.

The next scene takes place in Amsterdam (which is in the Netherlands for all of those who failed Geography 101), as the boys exit a hotel and board a bus. Still chomping on his ever-present wad of gum, OC saunters up to Pav and announces, “Hey, I’ll do you a favor, I’ll sit with you even though you are from Minneapolis.” I hope Pav responds like that soldier in the Monty Python French Taunter scene, which in my opinion is one of the pinnacles of British comedy:

Pav’s response is almost as epic. He scoots over to steal the seat OC was about to slip into, and when OC appears baffled by this slight, the guy sitting behind Pav (whom I believe is Bah, but can’t be sure since half the characters in this film all look the same and should be forced to wear their numbers and uniforms all the time so they can be distinguished from one another even if that is the dystopian plot of a thousand futuristic novels) taps Pav on the shoulder and informs OC, “What the troubadour is trying to say is he’s not from Minneapolis.”

Spreading his hands, OC says, “Okay, I’m sorry, all right?” After a moment’s hesitation, Pav relents and moves over so OC can join him. Lounging in his chair, OC asks Pav, “So, where’d you say you guys were from—the Iron Range? It’s the same thing as Minneapolis, isn’t it?” Yes, OC, a place with the term Range in it is obviously near the Twin Cities. At this point, I can just see OC thinking this on the bus ride through Europe:

“Sure,” Pav scoffs, not tolerating OC’s Boston ignorance and arrogance, “like South Boston is the same thing as Beacon Hill. You guys are really dumb about the rest of the country, you know that? We’re just as poor as you or Craig, so why don’t you just lay off the upside-down snobbery, huh?” Rock on, Pav. You tell him.

OC exchanges a glance with Rizzo, who is sitting across the aisle from him, and then Coach Patrick climbs into the bus, calling, “Okay, it’s going to be about ten hours before we get there.” When the bus fills with groans, he raises his voice even further: “Listen up, listen up, everybody is responsible for their own equipment just like here. Okay?”

There is a chorus of acknowledgement, and then Rizzo wants to know, “Hey, Patty, do we have to keep on our suit coats and ties or what?”

Coach Patrick tells the guys to get comfortable, and as everybody loosens their ties, he demands cheerfully, “Where’s my seat?”

Some banter ensues, and then OC stands up, telling Coach Patrick that he can take his seat if he doesn’t mind sitting in the kiddie section. Then Rizzo rises and takes OC’s seat, saying, “Take mine, Patty. I got it warm for you.” It’s like musical chairs or a Chinese fire drill.

As he slides into Rizzo’s empty seat, Coach Patrick opines, “You guys never let up, do you?”

Rizzo looks at Pav and remarks, “I guess we’re all a little homesick, huh?” Pav gives a small smile, and then Herb enters the bus, and the atmosphere drops to sub zero temperatures as the bus drives off.

Plucking away at his guitar, Pav serenades us with “The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round” since this is a family friendly film, after all, Just kidding. He really offers a rendition of Simon and Garfunkel’s “America.”

As Pav sings that tune, a montage of various moments from the team’s games in Europe flash across the screen, so I recommend that you hum the tune to yourself as I take you on a meme journey of the European games.

Les Auge gets smashed into the boards and is probably thinking:

Pav gets in a scuffle along the boards to show us all the definition of hockey:

Broten (whose last name is spelled correctly on his jersey) scores a goal, and it’s so awesome:

Christian has a goal, too:

Ramsey uses his backside to send an opponent into a somersault:

Then we’re back on a plane for the flight back home for America, as the whirlwind tour of Europe is done. As Ken returns to his seat, a stewardess asks for his autograph, which he gives to her. There’s whistling and college boy teasing, and then when Ken sits down, Jim asks why the married guys get all the attention. I’m sure their wives would also be interested in that answer. Maybe this isn’t such a family friendly film, after all.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ken answers. “She’ll get to you. They’re all big hockey fans in her country. She wants all the autographs.”

Leaning forward from the row behind Ken, Bill chimes in, “It’s about time we got a little respect.”

“Oh yeah?” Ken replies. “Well, according to her, there’s no way we’re going to beat the Russians.”

Rob, who is sitting next to Ken, shakes his head dismissively, and comments in a very smug tone, “Oh, that comes from living too close to the Soviets. It’s called geopolitical absorption.” Now, that may sound confusing, folks, but just remember, Rob’s only using sophisticated words to dress up a basic fact that everyone except evil egomaniacs like Napoleon and Hitler learned in European history, and those who don’t learn in boring class discover in a very painful practice:

“Geopolitical absorption, Robbie?” echoes OC, and this whole conversation is so hilarious, because these two are bantering about Cold War global politics, which is totally true to both their characters. “That’s the poet in you right?”

“Wrong,” Rob sasses back. “Political Science 401. It’s a fancy word that means being scared of the guy who lives next store.”

“Yeah, well, wait until we get to Lake Placid,” scoffs OC. “We’ll see who absorbs who.” This is all starting to sound very Freudian, but really this geopolitical debate was very amusing in an extremely intellectual way like the constitutional peasant scene from Monty Python and the Holy Grail although the script and the acting are obviously inferior by light-years but why quibble over minor details.

There are a lot of grins to go around at this remark, and then Rizzo states as the stewardess starts collecting everyone’s signatures, “What I wouldn’t give to beat them. It sure would make up for a lot.”

As Rizzo gives his autograph to the stewardess, Bill addresses her thus: “Excuse me. I have it on good authority that you want details on our secret plan to beat the Russians.”

“Secret?” repeats the stewardess, following the traditional airline approach of being as rude as possible to the customer. “What is this secret plan? I saw your game last night. You’ll never beat the Soviet Union. Never.”

The secret plan, as devised by Herb, silly stewardess, is to lull the Soviet Union into a false sense of superiority by putting on poor performances like the one in Madison Square Garden before the Olympics, and then just dominating in the medal round.

There’s an awkward silence, and then OC declares, “We’ll see about that.” Then the scene ends by panning out to a shot of the plane soaring through the clouds, and on that note I’ll leave all my lovely readers to fly about their lovely business until the next installment. I hope everyone enjoyed their musical and pictorial trip through Europe. Please take all your belongings out of the overhead compartment before departing the cyberplane.

Breaking Down a Miracle on Ice Movie: Smile at the Camera

Since I have the night off from watching playoff hockey (funny how the elimination of more teams from the playoff picture correlates with an increase in the time I can devote to other leisure activities), I decided to fulfill my promise to watch and blog about the next installment of the 1981 Miracle on Ice film. This section focuses on part of the trials process associated with selecting the Olympic team, but since this movie centers around the trials more than its twenty-first century counterpart does, I will continue to examine the trials process in the next blog post as well, as the trials process appears to extend beyond the portion that I’m being for this post. With that caveat, wagons ho! We’re about to depart on the next part of our wonderful journey to gold in Lake Placid.

When we last left our boys, they were besieging Patrick with a million and one questions. Apparently having received answers to all their manifold inquiries, they are now giving their names and getting their photographs taken. This is probably intended to serve as our introduction to all the boys—providing us with a way to place all the faces with a name—but it feels like too little too late, since we’ve already been thrown into the deep end without a life vest, and, anyway, most of these actors (a term I employ here in the loosest possible sense) bear an uncanny resemblance to one another. Basically, this is my disclaimer that at some point in the movie I might end up saying something about how Mark Johnson has this great line when really it was Rob McClanahan who said it, because casting makes everyone look the same. In real life, though, I would never in a million years confuse those two, so I can still keep my real Miracle fan badge, right?

While the Miracle fan board reviews my case, the first guy to come forward to get his picture taken is Rizzo. He strikes a pose that is more arrogant than outgoing, and I’m not sure that’s really him. I’d believe he’d give off a confident but also friendly vibe. Once Rizzo is done with his photo op, OC steps forward to have his picture taken while chewing a wad of gum just like Brett Connolly did in the 2010 NHL Entry Draft when he went to the podium to shake Steve Yzerman’s hand, and we just had to be grateful that he didn’t spit or pick his nose since neither his parents nor his agent had coached him in how to meet a GM and Hall of Famer. Unlike Brett Connolly, OC does not seem as if he is operating under the influence of horse tranquilizers, and he puts on this cocky smirk that I believe is perfect for his character. So far he’s one of the better portrayed guys in this film, though that may be damning with faint praise.

Jim’s up next, and he needs to be told to look at the camera, which I guess could be the filmmaker’s way of trying to establish that he was something of a loner. After giving his name, he gives this horrible half smile, and I cringe in disgust. Why, oh way, did casting think Steve Guttenberg was a perfect fit for this role? You could torture me like in that graphic and only appropriate for adult audiences scene in Braveheart, and I’d still refuse to believe that Guttenberg was Craig, until the bitter end shouting, “Freedom!”

After Jim, Ken Morrow follows, and he gives his name so quietly that Patrick asks him to repeat it, which is a reasonably clever and relatively subtle way of showing how reserved Ken was. Kudos to the script writers here.

Buzz is up next, and all I can think is that at least he’s better looking than the guy who plays Jim Craig in this movie. His smile is a bit more smug and less kind than I would have imagined, but maybe that’s just me.

Les Auge follows Buzz, and, like OC, he’s chewing gum. It’s a gum-chewing pandemic. I hope that none of them gets attacked like Hugh Jessiman by their suddenly sentient gum when celebrating a goal. I mean, it’s a sure sign that you’re basically a total bust as a professional athlete when you can’t even celebrate a goal without some hilariously ungainly malfunction, and you don’t want to give Herb that sort of insight into your failings.

Next up is Rob McClanahan, who seems pretty regular and inoffensive, which is about all you can ask from this film at this point. Then we have Pav, who is totally blank for the camera, and that goes well with his hating-the-spotlight personality. Pav is followed by John Harrington, who seems normal though plumper than he looked in earlier shots of him. It must be the light…

We shift over to the rink, where some guys are performing a warm-up skate after having their pictures snapped. Les Auge skates up to Rizzo and introduces himself before remarking about how there isn’t much competition. In response, Rizzo observes that is a good thing because he’s still tired from the trip. Since Rizzo mentions jet lag, I’ll just point out that many of the boys who tried out for the ’80 Olympic team actually arrived in Colorado Springs many days in advance so that they could adapt to the higher altitude.

On that note, we’re back to Patrick taking a picture of a guy named Steve Thompson. I admit that unlike Les Auge, Cox, and Hughes, I don’t remember reading a word about this Thompson fellow in any of the books or articles I’ve studied about the Miracle on Ice, but it’s still interesting to have a face to go with one of the names that Herb will (spoiler alert) end up cutting in this movie. Thompson is followed by some other dude with the surname Parides that I’ve never read about either. It’s weird and vaguely sad how some names are utterly lost in the annals of hockey history.

After those two guys who are the merest footnotes of history in this movie, we have a dude who I have heard of: one Bill Baker, who gives a slight smile and nod at the camera. He’s pretty cute, even though he is apparently not Eric Strobel after all.

Following Bill, we have Mark Johnson, who has dark hair and white skin but other than that really does not look at all like Mark in terms of facial structure or eye color. He also has this arrogant expression on his face that isn’t at all suitable for Mark to be wearing. Why did the director allow this to happen?

When Patrick is done taking Mark’s photo, the scene shifts to focus on all the boys skating around the rink, and then zones in on the bleachers, where Patrick joins Herb, who is watching the warm-ups like a hawk, and asks, “Now what?”

Herb replies that Patrick took the words right out of his mouth, and Patrick looks aghast at his rudeness. I predict that Patrick will spend about half of his screen time going into cardiac arrest because of all the nasty things that emerge from Herb’s irritable lips. Proving me right, Herb, being his blithe self, continues, “What’s this—a hockey camp or a rehearsal for the ice companies?”

That’s actually a good bit of dialogue (or else my standards have just been lowered by the abysmal quality of the rest of the script, because I can’t even tell any more), and I have some time to appreciate it before Patrick responds with a chuckle, “Relax, Coach. There’s got to be twenty great ones in that line-up.”

Being a total boar, Herb counters, “Good. When you find out who they are, let me know.” Again, Patrick looks astonished by Herb’s terseness. I see this conversation is going nowhere, and maybe the emotionally stunted Herb actually senses the same thing, because he goes on, “Meanwhile, would you get them started? Sprints and everything. Work ‘em. Work ‘em hard.”

Patrick stands up and blows his whistle, but we are left to imagine the horrible paces the boys are put through, since the next scene transpires in Herb’s office, where we are looking down at a pile of the pictures Patrick has just taken on Herb’s desk.

Herb, who presumably was using the phone to attempt a call to his wife, puts it down, stating that she must have taken the kids to a movie. Switching from the personal to business, he scoops up the pile of pictures and begins to rifle through them, asking Patrick, who is seated in the chair opposite his desk, what on a scale of one to ten he thinks of Grazier.

Patrick estimates a nine, and then bumps it up to a nine-and-a-half, reasoning that Grazier is dependable in clutch situations.

Herb demands who would back Grazier up, and Patrick, looking pensive, says Johnson and Parides could. I’m assuming from the fact that Grazier’s and Parides’ names are linked with Johnson’s that these guys were seen as talented, top prospects in 1979, but since I’ve never heard of them, I’m guessing that they busted. That’s the interesting thing about prospect development. Sometimes a late round pick blossoms into a Chara, Pavelski, or Lundqvist, and a first overall pick can be a disappointment like Alexandre Daigle or Marc-Andre Fleury.

Referring to Parides and Johnson, Patrick says, “They’re both talented.”

Hurling down the pictures, Herb wants to know, “But are they tough? Will they stand up?”

My immediate reaction to this line is that the scriptwriters are trying to be all philosophical and whatnot, but are actually betraying the fact that they’ve never drawn up a hockey roster or even contemplated doing so for more than six seconds. Toughness probably isn’t within the top five qualities that coaches and GMs look for in a first line center. Things like stickhandling, skating speed, playmaking abilities, shooting strength, and overall hockey sense are all more important. You look for skill in a first line center, and toughness in a fourth line center, because, a fourth line goon considers it a great triumph to get a star center to drop the gloves and earn a coincidental penalty.

That’s my reaction if it’s physical toughness being questioned here. However, if it’s mental toughness, that’s much more valid a concern, but still a slippery slope, since the hockey world tends to overrate the toughness of players who are chirpy on the ice but then delve into full turtle mode if anyone actually raises a fist while underrating the bravery and endurance of quieter leaders like Steve Yzerman whom Scotty Bowman said had the highest pain threshold of any player he ever coached.

All I can say is we better not be headed down the path of “Mark Johnson was a talented player but a weak one,” because Mark Johnson got his shoulder speared in the Czechoslovakia game and returned to the line-up in the next one even though he had to have his arm in a weird sling under his equipment. It was like playoff hockey, and, on that note, tune in to NBC tomorrow to watch Jonathan Toews, who wears number nineteen just like Steve Yzerman, lead the Blackhawks against the Kings.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking Down a Miracle: Part IV

Introduction:

This post is the penultimate one in my series about the 1980 American hockey team, and it will focus on the match against the Soviet Union as well as the post-game interviews with Jim Craig and Rizzo. Since so much has been written about this moment, which was dubbed by Sports Illustrated as the Greatest Sports Moment of the Twentieth Century, it requires no real introduction. For those of you who might be interested in following along, you can watch the full game here  or you can just drink in the highlights here. This is the Miracle on Ice, the triumph of the underdogs that inspired an entire nation and sparked the development of American hockey.  Let’s just travel back in time to that glorious February game…

United States versus Soviet Union:

• The broadcaster relates how Lake Placid was filled with excitement for the USA versus Soviet Union game from the moment he woke up that morning.
• He promises not to spoil the results even though the game was already played because he wants it to be a surprise to anyone who hadn’t heard the results (and presumably had been living under a couple feet of solid bedrock that day).
• He explains the round robin medal format. The teams from each division carry their record against the other team from their respective division. Thus, since Sweden and the US tie their game, they each go into the medal round with one point. Likewise, since the USSR defeated Finland in their match, the USSR will enter the medal round with two points to Finland’s zero.
• Seeding in the case of a tie, as in Sweden and the US, was determined by goal differential. Sweden had a better goal differential and got first seed for their division. That means they played Finland (second seed of the other division) first, while the US played the USSR first.
• Al Michaels tells us that tickets are being exchanged at three times their face value of $67. That’s an expensive ticket right there, folks, though it’s worth it to see a miracle.
• Ken Dryden (who has more Stanley Cup rings than he can fit on one hand, which is just obscene) talks about how for the US team this is a discovery time, because, to use his terminology, it’s one thing to be young and promising, and quite another to be good.
• Mark Johnson takes the opening faceoff against the Soviets, and just before the puck is dropped one of his teammates on the bench shouts, “Go on, Magic!” They actually used those nicknames for one another. I feel as mushy as a chocolate chip cookie fresh from the oven. Just let me melt here before the game continues.
• Jimmy is tested for the first time and has a good save.
• Eric Strobel gets in a check. Nice to see a skill player get physical from time to time.
• Bill Baker gets the puck out of his own end and skates it quickly up ice with some deft stickhandling.
• Silk scrabbles for the puck along the boards and passes it to Ramsey. I love how tenacious Silky is.
• The Soviets score off a pass from Krutov deflected in by the post.
• Broten explodes into the Soviet zone and passes smoothly to Christoff, who fires a shot on goal that sadly does not find the back of the net.
• Mark Johnson has a cute little maneuver where he skates up the ice and leaps over a Soviet skate, not even really slowing down in the process.
• Morrow has a scrabble along the boards for the puck.
• Jim has another big save.
• The Coneheads strike again. Pav passes to Buzz, who fires a slapshot that finds the back of the net, soaring over Tretiak’s head.
• Buzz and Pav have the best awkward line mate hug behind the Soviet goal to celebrate Buzz putting the US on the scoreboard. The awkwardness is a direct result of the height differential since Pav is only 5’8” tall, and Buzz is one of the few forwards on the team who isn’t a hockey midget. Buzz probably couldn’t give Pav a normal hug without looking like he was trying to strangle Pav. My brother, who is over a foot taller than me, has to do a similar one-armed squeeze with my head only coming up to his shoulder just like Pav’s only comes up to Buzz’s, so I totally sympathize, and find this sweet and hilarious.
• The crowd goes crazy with applause, and Herb takes a moment to release the breath he had probably been holding since the first puck drop and pull up the hideous ’70s style pants he chose to wear to the most important game he ever coached. Good thing he never went for a career in fashion. Ralph Lauren he wasn’t, but then again Ralph Lauren couldn’t coach a miracle, so there you go.
• The commentators remark that Buzz’s slapshot wasn’t the kind of goal you would expect Tretiak to allow. I’ll agree since Tretiak was in completely the wrong position to block the shot, and I would assume that a goalie with multiple Olympic and World gold medals has better positioning skills. I will just say that I think every great goaltender can be forgiven for playing a sloppy game or two. This was one of Tretiak’s but that shouldn’t detract too much from his legacy as one of the best goalies to ever play the sport, and I don’t think it has.
• Jim has a gorgeous glove save. Those are always exciting to watch.
• Rizzo has a shot on the Soviet goal but doesn’t get lucky this time.
• Makarov tallies for the Soviet Union when his shot is deflected into the net off Morrow’s skate. Krutov and Makarov, in their first Olympics, really show how they would go on to dominate all competition in subsequent Olympics and World Championships as two vital components of the KLM line, one of the most feared offensive lines in hockey history. Krutov and Makarov represent the new guard of Soviet players in Lake Placid, and they are incredible forwards.
• Broten is painfully close to scoring but the puck goes through the crease. I’m going to have no nails left to bite by the time this period ends.
• Christian has a slapshot that doesn’t go in and which everyone would think was the last desperate American bid to tie the score before the period is over, but everybody forgot to take Mark Johnson, the loose cannon, into account.
• Mark Johnson skates around the Soviet defenseman and fires the puck into the net with one second remaining in the first period. This just proves that a goal in the last second of play counts the same as a goal in the first second, so no slacking for anyone ever. Talk about a clutch performance. If this Olympic team were an NHL one, Buzz would be the guy who carries the team through the regular season, and Mark would be the one who finds an extra gear to shift to utterly destroy the oppositions in the playoffs.
• Herb has a small celebratory fist pump. He does feel emotions besides anger. It is confirmed on national television.
• The American team has a fest of hugging and helmet patting while the crowd waves flags all over the arena.
• The American players cluster around the ref who confirms that the goal is valid since one second remains in the period. That’s a fortunate thing for the ref, because would anyone really want to say no to those adorable American boys? It would be like drowning puppies.
• The Soviet Union went back to their locker room (probably to be vivisected by Tikhonov), but the ref needs to drop the puck again as one second remains in play.
• Only three Soviet players, Krutov, Makarov, and the backup goaltender Myshkin return to the ice for the faceoff.
• The announcer comments on how incredible it is for the Americas to be tied with the Soviets at two goals apiece when the Soviets thrashed a team of NHL All-Stars a few months ago.
• The game is back, and Myshkin remains in the net for the second period with Tretiak, looking as devastated as goaltenders do when benched, on the sidelines. It is worth noting that one of the most contested (and oft-condemned) moments in hockey coaching history was the benching of Tretiak in this game. Hockey scholars can debate whether the Americans would still have won with Tretiak in the net the whole game, although in Tikhonov’s defense, it seems only fair to note that Tretiak was (by his standards) struggling in the Lake Placide tournament, and Myshkin was an excellent goalie in his own right. He wasn’t some green guy who had never set skate in a crease.
• Bah is sent to the penalty box for a minor holding penalty.
• The commentators compliment the US penalty-killing unit for keeping play out of their zone.
• Maltsev scores on a breakaway at the end of the penalty when the Americans lose control of the puck at center ice.
• Jim falls on the puck behind the net and gets a two-minute penalty for delaying the game, which will be served by Eric Strobel because goalies never serve their own penalties.
• Mark is a beast at clearing the zone repeatedly during this penalty.
• Strobel is back, so that penalty has been successfully killed.
• Jim hits his head on the post when he is knocked over by a Soviet player while making a save and falls to the ice. He actually blacked out during that, so, in the modern NHL, he would have been forced to take a fifteen minute break, but here is allowed to just keep playing.
• There is a four-on-four with Morrow called for cross-checking and a Soviet player for unsportsmanlike conduct.
• There is a fluff piece on Jim Craig. We hear about how his mother died of cancer while Jimmy was in college at BU, and we see how much of a family guy Jimmy is when he talks about what an upstanding man his dad is. Where did I put my Kleenex? I thought I wouldn’t need them until the end of the game.
• Krutov is called for high-sticking and hopefully the Americans will score a power-play goal since it might give the commentators something to do besides criticize the American defense (particularly Rammer).
• Mark Johnson is so clutch. He scores with thirteen seconds left in the power play as the commentators were yammering on about how this was probably the Americans’ last run up the ice in the power play. It’s like this kid can score on command. Every American should love him forever just for these two goals.
• Herb has a larger celebratory fist pump, and the crowd goes wild.
• Mark Johnson disappears in a group hug of head-patting teammates. Can I just go back in time and hug them all?
• Back on the bench, Mark gives the camera a little smile when it flashes on him. My heart is breaking because this munchkin is too precious.
• This Miracle team is such a team of destiny. Just as the commentators are ripping into the Americans again (because it has been over a minute since Mark Johnson last scored) and saying they are relying on Jim Craig to make too many saves (even though the puck is in the Soviet end at the moment), Rizzo takes advantage of the opportunity to score and silence the critics or commentators. He deserves to get lucky since he had some nice shots that didn’t find the back of the net earlier in the game.
• Herb does an even bigger celebratory fist pump that will eventually be immortalized in statue, Rizzo does a run with his stick in the air, and the crowd loses its collective mind.
• Herb manages to swallow a smile as the American team gathers around Rizzo for a group hug and head pat session.
• Buzz and a Soviet player get into a brief scuffle along the boards. Buzz ends up with the Soviet’s stick, and when the Soviet player holds out a hand to get it back, Buzz tosses it on the ice instead. This is a riot. Mild-mannered Buzz has a flash of temper, and I find it about as hilarious as that epic moment when as a Devil Scott Niedermayer (never much of an enforcer) got into a fight with a Ranger, got a Ranger jersey wrapped around his head in the process, and kicked that Ranger jersey sky high in gesture of pure disdain before he went to the penalty box.
• Morrow and the defenseman are simply heroic here, throwing their bodies in front of shots. I bet they had tons of bruises in the shape of a puck afterward, but it’s a price they were willing to pay for a gold medal.
• Herb is an evil genius with delaying tactics. He calls Mark Johnson over to the bench before the faceoff so the ref has to waste time calling Mark back.
• Ramsey gets in some nice defense maneuvers and finally receives a compliment from the commentators who have spent a good part of this game tearing into him for positioning issues.
• A shot of Herb Brooks pacing the bench and reminding his players to “play your game” repeatedly like a mantra.
• The commentators are now praising the Americans for giving a great performance as underdogs. What a dramatic change in tone from a second before Rizzo’s goal. You can see the final minute of the game and hear Al’s eternal call here.
• The commentators suggest that the Soviets will be put in the unusual position of having to pull their goaltender but this never happens because Tikhonov appears to forget that is an option in hockey.
• Jim has a lot of brilliant saves in the last thirty seconds of play.
• The crowd is so loud and excited that you can hear them counting down the remaining seconds. My blood is pounding. I can’t handle this.
• The immortal Al Michaels’ question and answer, “Do you believe in miracles? Yes!”
• The American boys hug and roll around on the ice. This is too precious to watch.
• The Soviets watch the jubilee with stunned expressions. They aren’t used to losing or to feeling the exhalation the Americans demonstrate when they win.
• The teams do the traditional handshakes.

Post-Game Jim Craig Interview:

• When asked if he could feel the crowd’s emotion down on the ice, Jim says he could feel it throughout the game but especially in the final ten minutes.
• The reporter asks whether Jim felt nationalism had anything to do with the crowd’s emotions. Jim says yes but there were also just a lot of hockey fans in the arena.
• That’s the end of the interview. I was expecting more, but now let’s hear from Rizzo.

Post-Game Rizzo Interview:

• Rizzo talks about how during the second period he tried to give his teammates an opportunity to re-group and the Soviets a chance to lose momentum when he spoke with the ref after the Soviets had been putting a ton of shots on Jim’s net.
• Rizzo reconstructs his game-winning goal: he came on the ice, got a pass from Pav, and used the Soviet defenseman as a screen for his shot in a nutshell.

Breaking Down a Miracle: Part III

Introduction:

This post is a continuation of my series of commentary on the 1980 US Olympic hockey teams, so it is recommended that you read the first post (focusing on the games against Sweden and Czechoslovakia) and the second post (focusing on the highlights of all the pool games as well as interviews with Bill Baker, Herb Brooks, and Rizzo) before proceeding with this one. The American match game against the Norwegians will be the center of this installment, and, in an attempt to avoid redundancies with the notes on the highlights of the Norwegian match, I have striven to emphasize aspects of the game, such as the penalty-happy referee, that the differences in coverage drew my attention to. Hopefully, readers will enjoy this post and will be looking forward to reading about the actual Miracle on Ice in the next post in this series.

Notes on the full U.S. versus Norway Game:

 

• Al Michaels talks about how the US has faced its toughest division opponents (Sweden and Czechoslovakia, respectively), but people fear a let down with the Norwegians, who are regarded as the division’s weakest team.
• Al Michaels observes that its important for the US team of “recent achievers” not to take for granted victories over teams they were seen as about equal to at the start of the Olympics and to continue to play their best to maintain their momentum.
• The Coneheads take the opening faceoff and get in a few shots on goal, which gives Al Michaels a chance to remark on how effective Buzz had been offensively in the previous match against the Czechs.
• Al Michaels just casually mentions Morrow getting a separated shoulder in the last game against the Czechs, and I’m thinking, “Hold on. How do you separate your shoulder without becoming a twitching mound on the ice?” That’s Ken Morrow for you, though. Such a solid defensive player who could separate his shoulder and not miss a beat or a shift, and who could probably have added more hardware to his three Stanley Cup rings and Olympic gold medal if he hadn’t been plagued by injuries in his pro career.
• The camera kind of creepily pans over to Herb Brooks during a lull in the action, and, although I know that he’s probably barking orders at his players, it looks hilariously like he’s talking to himself, which I’m sure the stress of the Olympic tour could do to anyone. We’re also reminded for perhaps the hundredth time that he is the University of Minnestoa coach who spent seven years with the Gophers. Clearly fluff was just as annoying back in 1980 as it is today. Comforting to have proof that some things never change.
• The Americans are on the power play, because the Norwegian captain decided it was an excellent time to be sent to the penalty box for a two minute minor. We don’t see or hear his actual infraction since the cameras were too busy zeroing in on Herb.
• The American power play struggles to gain energy and cohesion, so the Norwegians keep the puck out of their zone via icing, which is legal when a team is shorthanded.
• Mark Johnson gets called for tripping, and as he goes to the penalty box, we get reminded of how he was injured at the end of last game. Are they trying to make me cry? Where the heck did I put my Kleenex? I thought that I wouldn’t need them for this game since none of my babies (Rob McClanahan and Mark Johnson in case you forgot since I last fangirled obnoxiously over them) got hurt, but here are the commentators ready to remind me of every scratch they’ve ever suffered. Not fair.
• For some reason unbeknownst to me, the commentators insist on referring to a four-on-four as a “five aside,” which sounds like a side dish you can order with ketchup at a grill. I’ve never heard that terminology before, and I had to remember to count the goalie for each team before I could figure out what they were chattering on about. I’m still going to use for purposes of this blog the phrase four-on-four, so I don’t confuse myself. I just wanted to broaden my audience’s hockey vocabulary.
• Ramsey, falling to the ice, gets in a shot on the Norwegian goal, but it is blocked wide. Too bad. It would have been awesome to see a defenseman score during a four-on-four.
• Morrow does a great job manning his post and sticking to the opposing player like glue along the boards behind the net.
• Strobel glides in a circle around the Norwegian net, and passes smoothly to Ramsey, whose shot it caught by the Norwegian goaltender. Why are none of your shots going in, Rammer? It’s making me sad, though not nearly as sad as the fact that you played for Scotty Bowman all those years and never got a Stanley Cup.
• The Norwegian captain is back, so the US will have to penalty kill for a couple of seconds.
• The Norwegian goaltender gives up quite a few sloppy rebounds.
• Buzz and a Norwegian player get tangled up near the net, and there’s a whistle.
• The camera, for not real reason, zooms in on Herb again. This time he is chewing on his knuckle. Guess he wanted a knuckle sandwich.
• These commentators are kind of annoying. Every two seconds, they remind us that Mark Johnson is still in the penalty box. Here’s a novel idea: just inform us when he gets out, and spend the rest of the time announcing what’s going on in the game. I’m  a big Mark Johnson fan, but I really don’t need to hear about him being in the penalty box every two seconds. That’s not very exciting, thanks.
• Another penalty called against Norway for interference. This ref is pretty strict, but at least he seems equally stringent for both sides.
• Norway scores on a shot from the point deflected off Jim Craig. Technically, it was a defensive lapse for the US, but I’ve seen much worse from the 2013 NJ Devils, so I’m not even going to really comment on the defensive breakdown except to acknowledge that, yeah, it happened.
• Mark Johnson is out of the box, but Verchota immediately is sent to fill it (Phil fills it, get it? Very punny, I know) for elbowing. I don’t really like this ref, even though he is fair. I am as big a proponent of clean hockey as it’s possible to be (my favorite players are always clean, skill guys), but this ref calls way too much, resulting in a choppy game where no real momentum is gained for either side. It’s not that exciting to watch, and with all these stoppage of plays to announce penalties, this could end up being the only game in hockey history that lasts five hours without going into a single overtime. This guy needs to chill with calling people for everything but breathing.
• Four-on-four could be the dominant playing pattern for this game with this ref, though.
• It’s ten minutes into the game, and the commentators are already ripping into the Americans about letting people down. Um, there are like fifty minutes of play left. Relax. The US is getting some scoring opportunities. It’s not as if Norway is skating loops around them, and the only Norwegian goal was on a power play, not at even strength.
• Ramsey does a good job containing Norway at the blue line.
• A Norwegian player is called for highsticking Ramsey against the boards, so the US has a man advantage in a four-on-three. (Verchota is still in timeout for elbowing.)
• The commentators also don’t like the refs style, saying that players prefer when teams are skating at even strength for the most part, because when everything anyone ever does is called, a lot of unusual line combinations are thrown out on the ice with sometimes less than stellar results.
• One of the Norway players is back, so we have a four-on-four, but the commentators are so confused by all the penalties that they mistakenly say each team will have five skaters instead of four.
• Verchota is free, so the US now has five skaters to the Norwegian four.
• Christoff gets in some sweet skating and stickhandling.
• Glove save by Jim. Cool to watch.
• Ramsey gets in a beautiful rush on the Norwegian goal. He doesn’t score, but he again shows how dynamic a defenseman he is. The more I see of this kid, the more I love him.
• Buzz comes in with a breakaway, and I get so excited thinking he is going to score that I nearly spill my tea all over my laptop, but the Norwegian goaltender ruins the party with a nice save.
• Buzz gets a penalty for charging a Norwegian into the boards. Another penalty. Ho-hum. The penalty kill units for each team are certainly getting a workout this game.
• The commentators speculate as the camera pans over to Herb again that he’ll have some heated words for his team in the locker room. That’s probably the closest thing to a sure bet that exists in hokey. I mean, if you saw the movie Miracle you know how he skated those guys after tying with the Norwegians. Happy memories galore for the Americans, yes.
• Morrow legally ices the puck to kill some time in the penalty.
• Bill Baker shows his stickhandling skills and sends the puck into the Norwegian zone.
• Buzz is back.
• Wells takes the faceoff. Hello, Wellsy. Good to see you.
• Broten and Christoff get into a scrabble along the boards. Seeing Neal the puppy get physical reminds me of his famed fight with the Great One, Wayne Gretzky, so if anyone tries to tell you that the Miracle boys aren’t goo, point out that Neal Broten took on Wayne Gretzky. That will say all that needs to be said.
• Pav takes the opening faceoff for the second period, and we get the camera zooming in on his adorable features.
• A Norwegian is sent to the penalty box for tripping. Big surprise there, since this ref adheres to the school of thought that the penalty box should never be empty.
• Rizzo scores off a deflection fifteen seconds into this power play, so, basically, just as Rizzo rallied the troops in the game against the Czechs, he does the same in the match against the Norwegians. Not bad for a guy famous for one winning goal against the Soviets.
• Wells and Verchota are quite interesting to watch. They have some good passing and aren’t afraid to get physical along the boards.
• Verchota fires a shot on goal but the puck fails to find the back of the net.
• There’s a scuffle near the near, and, shockingly, the ref, accessing no penalties, does not take advantage of this marvelous opportunity to give everyone on ice five minute roughing penalties. How uncharacteristic. I hope his body has not been taken over by aliens.
• Al Michaels described Pav as incredibly small but extremely quick and a good stickhandler. Seems as apt as description of this unconventional forward as any out there.
• Mark Johnson scores off a beautiful pass from Rob McClanahan, who was trapped along the boards. Nice way for the US to take the lead. Gosh, I love these two in case the whole world doesn’t realize that by now.
• Ouch, Bah is hooked into the boards by Norwegian, but a penalty is accessed for the Norwegian, and I actually support the ref’s decision here. Perhaps he is getting more competent as the game progresses.
• Pav has a smooth assist on a rapid fire goal from Silky. This ends in a lovely hug fest for our Miracle boys. Hockey doesn’t get much cuter than this, folks.
• After a brief spat along the boards, a Norwegian is penalized for slashing, and Strobel is sent to the penalty box for holding, so we’ll have a four-on-four for about the umpteenth time this game. Strobel hangs his head in the box when the camera flashes over him, and I want to travel back in time just to give him a reassuring hug.
• Strobel and the Norwegian are back.
• Nice save by Jim. He drops and covers the puck very well.
• There are two seconds left in the second period, so Herb pulls Jim to put in an extra man for the faceoff at the Swedish end, because even if the Norwegians win the faceoff, the puck will not cross the American goal line before time expires in the period.
• The Americans win the faceoff and fire in a shot on goal that does not go in.
• Rizzo gets into a scrabble with a Norwegian after time is called, but the refs pull them apart before any damage can be done to either player.
• Norway begins the third period in style with a hook that sends Rob McClanahan into the boards and onto the ice. The two minute penalty is given, and I wonder if the Norwegian coach forgot to mention to his team that hockey is won by getting the most goals, not penalties. Anyway, this early power play opportunity is déjà vu of the one that opened the second period with Rizzo’s goal.
• Wells scores off his own rebound, and his wild glee at scoring makes my heart soar. He deserves more moments like this in his life, that’s for sure.
• Bill Baker gets a two minute penalty for tripping.
• Norway really lacks cohesion on this penalty, and the Americans are very effective with killing the penalty by keeping the puck in the Norwegian end of the rink.
• Johnson, McClanahan, and Strobel have some good passing and shots on goal, but sadly none of them go in.
• Ken Morrow fires a slapshot that finds the back of the net. This gives the US a bang of a finish rather than a whimper.
• McClanahan skates the puck down the ice and has a neat drop pass to Christoff before Norway takes the puck again.
• Verchota gets in a nice shot on goal.
• Suter  gets into a fight with a Norwegian, and they both get double minors.
• Bill Baker gets an interference penalty, but the US wins like two seconds later anyway. Kind of anticlimactic ending except for all the Miracle boys hugging on the ice afterward.