Good Morning.
Publishing something that isn’t Isles-centric this morning.
I won’t make it a habit, I promise.
Miracle: The Boys of ’80, now streaming on Netflix, hit harder than I expected — and that’s saying something for a story most of us think we already know by heart.
I first fell in love and became obsessed with this story back in college, when the HBO Sports documentary “Do You Believe in Miracles?” aired. I wore that thing out. Tracked down a VHS copy of the full USA–Soviet game on eBay. My girlfriend at the time even hunted down old Sports Illustrated issues for me.
I was 19 — an age where history feels distant and legends feel fully formed — watching guys in their late 30s and early 40s talk about the single brightest flashbulb moment of their lives. Not just a sports moment. A life moment. The kind that stamps itself into national memory.
Even after all that, after seeing them light the torch in Salt Lake City, after rewatching the Hollywood version with Kurt Russell perfecting Herb Brooks more times than I can count, this documentary landed differently now.
Because now I’m 43. I am a husband, a father, and a son of two aging parents. Old enough to have perspective, but too young to fully understand the emotions of the 1980 team as they reflected back on it, this time as a collective, reliving a moment in time that forever shaped who they were.
Now I’m watching men in their 60s talk about fathers, neighborhoods, frozen ponds, hard coaches, factory jobs, kitchen-table sacrifices. You stop seeing the USA jerseys first. You see the homes. The families. The fingerprints left behind.
There’s something almost disorienting about watching a man sit in a chair and revisit the kid he used to be — the kid who thought he understood the world, who thought he knew what mattered, who had no idea what was coming. You can see the realization wash over them in real time: what they carried with them, what they almost lost, what never left.
Ken Morrow breaks down, remembering his father dying of cancer, who still pushed him toward the Olympic dream. Jim Craig talks about how victory healed something broken in his dad’s heart after his Mom passed. Mike Eruzione’s medal ceremony fist pump to his uncle, who loaned him $75 for hockey camp, then snuck into the gold medal game. Jack O'Callahan laughs through tears, recalling old sayings and jokes—the verbal inheritance of being cut from the same cloth as his Dad.
Watching this story this time wasn’t about beating the Soviets.
It was about something else entirely. A different type of miracle.
Not just a miracle on ice, but a miracle of memory, of time, of family, of mentors, and the long list of people and moments that help you become who you are.
Watch it. Relive it. Again. Again. and again.
We can all use another 1980, and a reminder that we are all part of our own teams, and the best moments of our lives are never shared alone.
And we leave you with this…the final minutes of The Miracle on Ice
Really enjoyed this perspective - and the insight on your shifting feelings with age (as someone of a similar age). Thanks for sharing!
Watched the video of the final minute of the game & got goosebumps. I'm 63 & so was 18 in 1980, watched the tournament in real time. Most AMAZING sports moment in my life alongside watching the NYI first cup run & the NY Mets 1986 world series. What made 1980 so. Incredibly special & amazing was that it WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN. USA were amateurs & everyone else in the hockey world were pros. Truly was 100% a miracle.