ON THE MARK.

I STILL BELIEVE IN MIRACLES.

33 years ago, on a Friday night in the little town of Lake Plaid N.Y., I was one of 8500 spectators crammed into the Olympic Center to watch the U.S.A. take on Russia in the Olympic Men's Hockey semi-finals.  I know that millions have claimed they were at that game, but they weren't.  I was.  I was there.  I even have the ticket to prove it.  And the memories.
     I was working for CJFM Radio in Montreal at the time.  Lake Placid was an hour and a half from my apartment, and I was down there quite often covering the Olympics and then heading back to do my radio shows.  I had been closely following the Canadian men's team, but they played terribly in this tournament and finished sixth.   Later, players such as Paul MacLean, Randy Gregg, Glenn Anderson and Tim Watters would go on to have stellar NHL careers, but in the Olympics their team was awful.    The Americans, on the other hand, were an up and coming bunch of college kids who appeared to have no chance, despite beating the Czechs and tying the Swedes in the preliminary round.  The day before the Russian game, New York Times columnist Dave Anderson wrote: "Unless the ice melts, or unless the United States team or another team performs a miracle, as did the American squad in 1960, the Russians are expected to easily win the Olympic gold medal for the sixth time in the last seven tournaments."
    The game took place at 5 pm local time, although ABC TV in the U.S. tried to get the Russians to agree to a time change for the game.  ABC wanted it shown in prime time, at 8 pm, but the Russians wouldn't budge.  At 5 pm eastern time, it would be 1 a.m. Saturday morning in Moscow when the puck was dropped, which would allow millions of Russians to see it.    CTV broadcast the game "live", but ABC decided to run it on tape delay at 8 pm on that Friday night.   Millions who saw it on ABC thought the game was being played live, even though it had been over for three hours.
     I was seated in the last row of the arena, a sort-of auxiliary press box.    Looking back, there were not a lot of journalists covering this event.  Nothing like today.   A few TV stations, a few writers were present, but not a lot of Canadians were in tune for this game.   And since Canada had been eliminated, I became a U.S. supporter, as much because of my dislike for the Russians than anything else.  (They were about to invade Afghanistan, which would cause the Americans and others to boycott the 1980 Summer Games in Moscow).   And don't forget, the Russians had been beating up on NHL teams in exhibition games, and had won just about every World Championship and Olympic tournament for a quarter century.  They appeared invincible. 
       I remember a strange buzz in the arena that night, although no one knew we would be witnesses to history.  The Russians came out fast and scored the first goal of the game, but the plucky Americans hung in there, and fans were starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, the Americans wouldn't get blown out (as they had a few weeks earlier at Madison Square Garden, losing 10-3).     With the U.S. trailing 2-1 and the first period about to expire, Vladislav Tretiak misplayed a long shot and allowed Mark Johnson to score on the rebound with ONE SECOND left on the clock.     That made it 2-2 after one, and the buzz got a lot louder.   And then, we were shocked when the Russians came out for the second period and Tretiak was NOT in the net.   Myshkin had taken his place.  What was going on?   The greatest goalie on the planet gets yanked in the Olympic semi-final?  Coach Viktor Tikhonov must be crazy.     And even though Myshkin didn't allow a goal in the second (he only faced two U.S. shots), his team led 3-2 going into the third.
     And then, something amazing happened.   Rather than sitting on their hands, waiting for the inevitable (and perhaps remembering that 10-3 pasting a few weeks earlier), the fans in the Olympic Center began chanting "U.S.A. U.S.A.".   It was the first time I had heard that chant, and the American players responded during a power play as Johnson scored to tie the game 3-3.   The place went even crazier a few minutes later when Mike Eruzione gave the U.S. the lead.    Unbelievable!    The Americans were beating the Soviets in Ice Hockey at the Olympics.  Wild!    The Soviets did not know how to play from behind, and had obviously underestimated the Americans.    They began to shoot wildly, very un-Soviet like.   As the minutes ticked down (excruciatingly slow) we all came to the realization that this could actually happen.   I don't recall sitting down for the final ten minutes of the game.    And in the final minute, down a goal, the Soviets STILL didn't pull their goalie for an extra attacker.  Weird.  
        I never did hear Al Michael's call on ABC (not live, anyway, but I did watch the "tape delay" later on.  Bernie Pascall called the game "live" on CTV, but he didn't have the "Do you believe in miracles?" line that  made Michaels famous.     All I remember is hugging the guy next to me and his girlfriend, standing in the arena for a long time taking it all in, and then realizing that I had to get down to the dressing rooms to do my job.    Bedlam.  Chaos.   The U.S. had beaten the Russians.     But wait, there was still the gold medal game to be played on Sunday.   I interviewed Herb Brooks, the U.S. coach, Eruzione, the captain and  Jim Craig, the shy, reserved goalie.   "Do you think you can win the gold medal on Sunday?" I asked.  "We'd better" said Brooks.    And they did.   They beat Finland 4-2 after trailing 2-1 entering the third period to win the gold medal, but it was anti-climactic.   The Miracle On Ice 33 years ago would go down in history as the greatest sports upset ever.   And it seems like only yesterday.