Mayhem And A Miracle, Volume II

Whoa, hey there. Hi. Remember me? It's only been three weeks since I last blogged (which is actually kind of an eternity, since I used to barely go three days between posts), but it feels like I've lived eight years in that time. Mostly because I worked about eight years in that time. The Pan Ams were no joke. Eleven hours of work a day = no time for grocery shopping, relaxing, and other basic quality-of-life things, which meant noooooo time for blogging. And when the Games wrapped up on the 26th, it was right back to the office for work on Monday. So this past weekend was the first I've had since Fourth of July weekend, and I'm happy to report that I'm finally starting to feel like a normal, functioning human again. [thumbs up emoji]

ANYWAY. That's not what I'm here to talk about. 'Cause some stuff happened in the last few days that merits the triumphant return of Miracle Monday!

I guess it's a good idea to start at the beginning, right?

This one starts in... February? March? I don't even remember. The beginning was so inconsequential to me because I never thought it would turn into anything, so I didn't bother committing it to memory. But in any case, right around the Miracle on Ice 35th anniversary reunion, my Tumblr friend Emily was lamenting to me about how upset she was that she couldn't go. But I had just stumbled across another event that most of the team was scheduled to appear at -- the National Sports Collectors Convention, in Chicago -- so I sent her the link. She started making plans to go, but it didn't really cross my mind much after that. I'd already done my fair share of flying around the country for Miracle on Ice things, and didn't feel any pressing need to do it again so soon. At the beginning of July, Emily texted me that she was definitely going to it, and I was SO HAPPY FOR HER. Like, hysterically-laughing-in-the-middle-of-Walmart happy for her. But still, didn't really think much else about it.

That is, until two weeks later. I very randomly decided to check out the show's lineup again, and noticed something very important: Mark Pavelich was going to be there.

Quick context, in case you're new here:

1. Pav is literally known for being reclusive and quiet and not attending public events. Before this year I didn't even know what he looked like, because the most recent pictures of him were from his NHL days back in the '80s. He doesn't do interviews (so I'd never heard his voice before), he doesn't go to things... nothing. So Pav committing to an event like this was a Big Deal. Somewhat miraculous, if you will. (Hah.)

2. Pav is my favorite. Favorite athlete, favorite famous person, favorite human being... pick one and he's it.

So immediately upon seeing his name on the "attending" list, my hands got clammy, my heart started racing and I felt like I was going to throw up. Meeting Pav was one of those bucket list items that I never physically put on my bucket list because I never ever in my life believed that it would happen. But suddenly, he would be attending an event that I could afford to go to, and it was several days after the Pan Ams ended. And with all the hours I'd worked (and all the overtime I made), I could stand to miss a day or two of work for it. And he'd be signing autographs late in the day on the 31st, so I could even fly in that morning and miss even less work. (Really, it was all a little too perfect.)

Within a few days, I was sending Emily a text: "Guess who's coming to Chicago!"

The next two weeks passed in a haze of endless hours of work and thoughts of "I just need to survive this so I can go to Chicago." I was pretty perpetually anxious for awhile, though a bright spot was getting my autograph and photo opp tickets in the mail.

You're damn right I'm #1 for Mark Pavelich.

In the meantime... blah blah blah, work work work, blah blah blah... and then suddenly I was walking into a convention center in Rosemont, Illinois and hugging someone I'd previously only known online like we'd been friends for a decade.

Emily and her dad had been there all day and she'd already gotten to meet John Harrington, Mike Ramsey and Phil Verchota. I was, y'know, dying a little bit about that. She was also going to be meeting Pav, plus Mark Johnson and Buzz Schneider. Pav and Buzz were signing autographs last, at 4:30. By the time I arrived it was around 2:30, and Mark was signing at 3:15, so we hung around for awhile before she got to meet him. This was also when I discovered that, despite not having tickets, I was allowed to stand in line with her. So when she was meeting Mark and getting his autograph, I was standing right behind her and grinning really big. (Note: this becomes an important plot point later. Not the grinning, the standing in line.)

Then it was back to gossiping and fangirling and just generally amusing ourselves for another hour or so. There was a lot of freaking out, and feeling like we were going to throw up, and giggling, especially at this:

And then Buzz and Pav were brought out for photo opps and holy crap. While Emily got her photo with Buzz, I steeled myself to say something very important kind of ridiculous to Pav. See, a few months ago he went to a banquet USA Hockey held to honor the team, and he was wearing glasses very similar to mine. We match, basically. So I'd been hoping against hope that he'd be wearing those glasses when I met him, and he was. This was my chance.

When Emily was done with Buzz, it was my turn, and I awkwardly sidled up to Pav.

He looked at me. "Hi." (PLEASE NOTE: this was the first time I'd ever heard his voice. When he said hi to me. TO ME. PERSONALLY. I'm never getting over it.)

I somehow mustered the brainpower to say "hi" back, and then he put his arm around me (!!!!!) and we took a picture together.

Before I walked away, I turned to him. "I like your glasses!"

He looked at me. "What?"

(LOL, I wouldn't have been expecting that either.) "I like your glasses!"

"Oh, thank you!"

And then I scuttled away and waited for Emily to take her picture with him before FREAKING OUT WITH HER a little bit. Because what else are you supposed to do when you meet your favorite person?!

Next came the autograph lines. We decided that we wanted to try and be close to last to meet Pav (so we could try and idle with him for a bit without backing up a whole ton of people), so we hopped into Buzz's line first so Emily could get her autograph. If you're new around these parts, I freaking adore Buzz. I named my car after him and met him once before (and he remembered me!!!), so Emily was basically like "COME SAY HI TO BUZZ WITH ME!!!!" So, y'know, who am I to turn down an offer like that? We waited in line together, and again I stood off to the side while Emily got her autograph, and when she was done she stepped aside so I could have my moment. (Guys, this is the realest friendship.)

I don't even really remember what I said. I was just trying to get my words out as fast as I could (because this was time I hadn't paid for), but it was basically "I'm the one who named my car after you and I just wanted to say hi!"

He burst out laughing (!!!!!) and said, "I remember! Good to see you again!" And he held out his hand, and I shook it (he gives a great handshake, FYI), and then I skipped away, wondering if ever there'll be a time I interact with Buzz Schneider that doesn't leave me a giggling pile of mush. (But for real, my presence makes him light up like a Christmas tree and I think that's the best thing I've ever accomplished in my life. Full stop.)

And THEN there was some more waiting before we got in line for Pav's autograph. Emily and I were both wearing Pavelich jerseys, and as we were standing around we were approached by two older men who commented on them. We got to talking, and they said they'd been coming to these conventions for years and that Pav had committed to come twice before and canceled both times. So we were all in agreement that him actually being there was huge, and I mentioned that I flew there from Colorado just to meet him. They seemed really impressed and didn't walk away before expressing their respect for us. (Actual life goals: only wear the jerseys of athletes that make other people respect you.)

Once we finally got in line, I felt a little less barf-y and was actually pretty confident when it was my turn. I handed my tickets to the "handler" sitting next to Pav, and picked what color marker I wanted him to sign with. (Blue. Which, the handler pointed out, was appropriate for signing a picture of him playing for the Rangers.) So Pav started signing his name, and I had to awkwardly pipe up and mention that I also get an inscription. (Seriously, why was that my job? Isn't the handler supposed to be in charge of that?)

I said that just "to Darci" would be great, and then Pav goes, "How do you spell that?"

PAUSE. I've met my fair share of famous people, and gotten my fair share of autographs, and I can't remember a single time that anyone asked me how to spell my name. I always have to jump in and specify how to spell it correctly, but Pav proactively asked about it before I could even do that. :')

So I told him how to spell my name, and then he deliberated for a little while before scrawling something else. And when he was finished, I had to seize my chance again.

"I just wanted to tell you that, as someone who's both short and quiet myself, you've been a really big inspiration for me and it's a huge honor to meet you."

He looked kind of taken aback. "Oh, well, thank you!"

LOL, I don't think he knew what to do with me. He probably thinks I'm really weird. But that's fine, because I think he's weird too. (Don't worry Pav, I just had to carpe diem this one time. I don't have to bother you ever again, I promise. I'll just keep coming to these things to hang out with my BFF Buzz.)

So it was all fine and dandy, until I decided to look down at the autograph he'd given me.

...I have no idea what it says.

Neither Emily nor her dad could figure it out either. The guys at the authentication booth put "play hockey" in the official records, but I've also gotten "play to win" and "pleased to meet you" and a number of other things. (My mom said it looked like "play dumb" or "please don't." LOL, thanks mom.) I just think it's absolutely hilarious that Pav finally attends a meet-and-greet, interacts with people, takes a picture with me, signs an autograph... and still manages to remain a complete mystery. THAT is a talent. An incredibly infuriating talent.

I was, however, very pleased that he didn't look miserable. I was kind of concerned that he'd hate the whole thing (because, come on, a reclusive type at a meet-and-greet? This is the exact opposite of his scene), and while he did look awkward and out of his element, he was smiling and interacting with people. So even if he signed me an autograph that's the written equivalent of a mumble, I think it's perfect and I'm completely thrilled with everything. :)

After we were finished, we walked around the convention center for a bit and stopped at a few booths. But we were all pretty exhausted and it wasn't long before we found a spot on the floor to sit and rest for a few minutes. And geek out a little bit more. Or a lot more. Y'know, whatever.

And, uh, that was it. Those three hours were the entire purpose of my trip. I met Pav, made Buzz laugh again, and turned an Internet friend into a real-life friend. Win, win aaaand win!

Look at this, I just made up for three weeks worth of missed posts in one fell swoop. HA. I guess I'll be back tomorrow to recap the rest of my trip (a grand total of about 20 hours), because this is plenty long enough. I'd apologize, but... I'm not even sorry.

Miracle Monday: Why I Care So Much

Today's a little bittersweet over here, folks. This is going to be the last Miracle Monday. :( It pains me greatly to bring this series to an end, but coming up with post topics has become incredibly difficult and I don't want to beat a dead horse. And it feels right to conclude on the one year mark. That's right, this is week 52 (how. on. earth?), and I've thoroughly enjoyed every single one of them!

But after all this time, I'm still left with the question that I feel like people think at me all the time: "What is it about this? Why do you care so much?"

I touched on this really quick back in my first Miracle Monday post, but it bears repeating all these months later.

I didn't really "discover" the Miracle on Ice until late 2012, when I was halfway through my senior year of college. That was when I not only learned more about the players themselves, but I learned their average age: 21 years and 9 months. At the time, I myself was 21 years and 10 months old. When I first saw Miracle back in 2004, though I knew this was technically a young team, they were so much older than me! They had always been older than me, until very suddenly they weren't.

Suddenly they were my friends who ate too much fried food and not enough vegetables, who I had to mother and stop from making incredibly reckless decisions, who drove me places when I didn't have a car and carried my groceries for me and were always absolute sweethearts. They were my younger brother and cousins, who belch and make fart jokes and talk in weird accents just for fun, who can't cook much more than a grilled cheese sandwich and never clean their rooms, who love their grandma and snuggle their dog and color with their little cousins.

That made it so real to me. They were just... people. They were college students. And as a college student trying to juggle classes and a job and an internship and writing a thesis and worrying about getting a job after graduation and wondering how the hell this is all supposed to work... it was incredibly meaningful to me that these guys who were as fake-adult as I was did something so next-level amazing. It made their accomplishment simultaneously all the more mind-boggling and all the more tangible. They were good at what they did and worked really hard and had a lot of faith in the unknown. I may not've played a single second of hockey in my life, but you don't need to be a hockey player to find that inspirational. It's cool that I can see my own traits in some of them; relating so strongly to someone who was able to achieve so much success makes it easier to soldier on when you feel like a failure. (Hey, I'm in my mid-20s. It happens.)

Also? They were a bunch of huge dorks.

So graceful.

And, y'know, they looked like children.

Excuse me, are you 12?

If those little boys right there can win an Olympic gold medal, I'm pretty sure I can handle the regular-person stuff happening in my life. :)

And on that note, I think it's time to wrap things up. Thanks so much for hanging out with me every Monday. I'm so appreciative of everyone who's commented, tweeted, messaged or otherwise given me feedback over the course of this past year! This probably won't be the end forever -- I'm sure I'll pop back in with the occasional Miracle on Ice post in the future, because... well, it's me. But in the meantime, if you're ever looking to chat about 1980 hockey, you know where to find me!

Miracle Monday: The Second Generation

Happy Monday, everyone! This is the first Miracle Monday that's being written while I'm sitting on my new couch, the first couch I've ever owned, and it feels pretty nice! Though I'm also covered in giant bruises thanks to my accidental river adventure, which feels much less nice. Nowhere near nice, actually. But I digress.

Yesterday was Father's Day (hope everyone had a good one!), and many weeks ago my friend Bailey suggested I write a Miracle Monday post about the 1980 team's kids to celebrate the occasion. I, of course, thought that was a great idea. (Thanks, Bailey!) But I'm not trying to be invasive and dig too deeply into anyone's personal life, so if you thought this was gonna get creepy... it won't. There are some lines I'm just not willing to cross. What I will talk about, though, are the kids that've carved out hockey careers for themselves and are carrying the torch for a second generation. :)

(Ironically, Billy Schneider isn't on this list, but that picture is too good for me to have left it out. I have, however, talked about Buzz and Billy here and here!)

It would be a grave mistake not to kick this off with Ryan Suter, because he's basically a poster boy for hockey success. And it's fitting, too, because Ryan's successes are the complete opposite of his father's. Bob was known for his high number of penalty minutes; his four-year college career included a national championship; he won an Olympic gold medal in his only Games, during which he was injured and received limited playing time; and he then decided not to pursue an NHL career. Ryan, on the other hand? He played one year of college hockey and did not win a national championship; has played on two Olympic teams, serving as alternate captain on both and winning a silver at Vancouver 2010 (we do not discuss Sochi 2014); and has been an NHL stalwart for a decade, where he's known not for his penalty minutes but for his obscene amount of ice team. Seriously, he's constantly leading the league in minutes played and is generally regarded as one of the most solid, reliable players. In terms of careers, these two almost couldn't be more different. But both father and son attended the University of Wisconsin, both play(ed) defense, and both wear #20. :) Also important to note? Ryan is the only child of a 1980 Olympic team member to play in either the NHL or the Olympics. And he just so happens to have done both.

Rachel Ramsey is serious life goals. This girl kicks some serious tail. (She's almost two years younger than me yet I want to be like her. Shh.) Not only is she six feet tall, blonde and absolutely beautiful, she attended the University of Minnesota. Now, the Gophers are kind of a big deal on the women's college hockey scene, so the simple fact that she's on the team is extremely impressive. In her four years there, the Gophers won three (count 'em, three) national championships. So again, this alone is extremely impressive, but let's take a look at Rachel's bio on gophersports.com, shall we? In her senior season, she was "named Patty Kazmaier Memorial Award top-10 finalist, AHCA/CCM First Team All-American, All-USCHO Second Team, WCHA Defensive Player of the Year, All-WCHA First Team and WCHA All-Academic Team," "named co-captain," and "appeared in all 41 games and led the WCHA and ranked second in the nation for scoring among defensemen with 33 points (9g-24a)." LOL OKAY THEN. She's certainly following in her dad's footsteps; Mike spent one year in college and won a national championship, then won an Olympic gold medal, and then spent the better part of two decades in the NHL. Obviously the NHL isn't an option for Rachel, and she retired from hockey after her college career came to an end. But she and her dad both locked it down on defense at the University of Minnesota, and both wore #5.

Alright, so Brock Nelson isn't actually the child of a 1980 Olympic team member, but he's important enough that we need to discuss him here. He played two seasons for the University of North Dakota (just like his uncle Dave) before being taken by the New York Islanders in the first round of the 2010 NHL Draft. He made his debut with the Islanders during the 2013 Stanley Cup playoffs (no pressure); he reached a career high in points (42) and +/- rating (+6) during the 2014-15 season, and was one of three Islanders to play in all 82 games. He's also played on several national teams at the junior and senior level, and helped Team USA win world championship bronze in 2015. But we need to talk about his family tree for a quick second. Dave, before his 14-year NHL career, won an Olympic gold medal in 1980; before Dave, Brock's grandfather Billy and great-uncle Roger both won an Olympic gold medal in 1960. Do you know what that means? Both Olympic gold medals that USA Hockey has ever won have been won by members of the Christian family. I don't think there's been a Christian on an Olympic team since 1980, so basically we need to petition USA Hockey to choose Brock for the 2018 Olympic team. Let's make this happen!

Mikayla Johnson is another one with a big-time family legacy to follow. Her grandpa, Bob Johnson, is one of the more legendary coaches in college hockey history, leading the University of Wisconsin to three national championships. Mikayla's dad, Mark, is the all-time leading scorer at the University of Wisconsin, won an Olympic gold medal (and was team MVP) in 1980, played in the NHL for a decade, and is the current coach for Wisconsin's women's hockey team. And Mikayla's older brother, Patrick, played for the University of Wisconsin and was selected by the Montreal Canadiens in the 2008 NHL Draft. In a nutshell: the Johnsons are essentially synonymous with both the University of Wisconsin and being really, really good at hockey. But Mikayla's handling that pressure like a champ (plus the additional pressure of her dad being her coach) and is the third member of her immediate family to become a Badger. She scored three goals in 20 games played last year and still has two more seasons of eligibility. I, for one, am looking forward to seeing what she does in the future!

And how about a few honorable mentions?

+ Dave Christian's daughter Kendall played for four years at Augsburg College, and Jim Craig's daughter Taylor did the same at Colgate University. (Yaaassss, the ladies are killin' it!)

+ Mike Ramsey's son Jack was drafted by the Chicago Blackhawks and will soon be starting his freshman season at the University of Minnesota, and Neal Broten's nephew Shane Gersich plays for the University of North Dakota and was drafted by the Washington Capitals. So there could potentially be a few more second-generation NHL players! We'll just have to wait and see. ;)

Miracle Monday: What Your Favorite Player Says About You

Aaaaand we're back! Sorry for the downer on Friday, but here's something significantly more fun. :)

When I was in Lake Placid for the 35th anniversary reunion, I took a tour of the Olympic Center. And when I told the tour guide which player's jersey I was wearing under my coat, he immediately nailed my personality. It was completely flawless and completely cracked me up; I hadn't realized that my favorite player said so much about me as a person! So that randomly got me thinking... if I had been wearing a different jersey, what would've been assumed about me? If I know who your favorite player is, what can be inferred about you?

(Disclaimer: I'm not a psychologist, so there's a great chance that this'll be way off. I just like me some critical thinking and analysis! So do take everything with a grain of salt and some good humor!)

IF YOUR FAVORITE PLAYER IS...

Bill Baker: You're a genuinely good-hearted human being, and you may or may not have a bit of a perfectionist streak. While you want to win, you know the most important thing is just giving 100% at whatever you do.

Neal Broten: You're super humble and down-to-earth, and your giant heart is rivaled only by your giant passion for hockey. You do things because you love them, plain and simple. There's also a 99% chance you're from Minnesota. ;)

Dave Christian: There's nothing you love more than a good laugh, and you're generally just a wonderful presence to be around. You're a hugger, aren't you? And probably a huge hockey nerd, right?

Steve Christoff: You want to be the best. You'll work harder, you'll study smarter, whatever it takes to put you a step ahead of everyone else. (Don't let anyone tell you you're not a sweetheart, though. Because you totally are.)

Jim Craig: You won't settle when you know you deserve better. You want to win, and surround yourself with people and things that are near and dear to your heart and that meet your high standards. You're also totally unafraid to do your own thing. (Either that or you've watched Miracle and think Eddie Cahill is cute. No judgment here. I feel you.)

Mike Eruzione: You have a magnetic personality and often find yourself in leadership roles; even if you're not "the best" at what you do, people love you and trust you to get the job done. And you never let conventional wisdom (or anything else) hold you back! (Or you might just be a casual fan drawn in by Miracle. That's cool. Welcome, have a look around!)

John Harrington: You, my friend, are a riot. Maybe a little weird, but all the best people are! :) You appreciate the value of some good hard work, but you're just as willing to kick back and goof off. There's also a good chance you have a soft spot for the underdog.

Steve Janaszak: There's a good chance you're the mom friend. You love everyone and don't want anyone to be forgotten or left behind, but you know that being there for people doesn't mean you're a doormat. Truly, you're the kind of person everyone needs in their life!

Mark Johnson: You're a University of Wisconsin Badger, aren't you? ;) You root for the unsung hero, but not because they're unsung; because they're a hero. You don't make a whole lot of noise because you simply don't need the attention. You're just super confident in yourself, and that's pretty awesome.

Rob McClanahan: You're pretty intense and probably intimidate me a little bit. You're incredibly meticulous and thorough, and never give an inch. Ever. It's really impressive. (Or maybe you've just seen Miracle and think Nathan West is cute. That's a very valid opinion.)

Ken Morrow: If you're not a New York Islanders fan, I'll eat a hockey stick. #realtalk. But beyond that, you're practical and down-to-earth; you don't care about flashiness or getting attention as long as the results are there.

Jack O'Callahan: You have a HUGE personality. You draw people to you like a magnet and it's near impossible to ignore you. Either that or you've watched Miracle and think Michael Mantenuto is cute... but if this isn't you, you're probably willing to fight people about it.

Mark Pavelich: You've got an independent streak a mile wide and, instead of following the crowd, you're always doing your own thing. There's also a good chance you're either wickedly creative, introverted as all hell, or a New York Rangers fan. Potentially all of the above.

Mike Ramsey: You ain't afraid of some aggression and you go full-bore for what you want. But at the same time, you're optimistic and have that childlike enthusiasm thing going on... and maybe an affinity for the Buffalo Sabres.

Buzz Schneider: You're a beautiful human being with such a loving heart. Everything you've gotten in life, you've earned through hard work and a great attitude. Kindness is super important to you, and you know that success doesn't mean as much if you didn't come by it honestly.

Dave Silk: You take no crap and have an incredibly strong sense of self. Actually, your incredibly strong sense of self is probably why you take no crap. You know what you want and you're going to go for it, naysayers and hardships be damned. You can handle anything. Basically, congrats on being a total badass.

Eric Strobel: Two words: underdog complex. You look for those diamonds in the rough and cherish them when nobody else will. You're either the beautiful cinnamon roll too good for this world, or the person that will aggressively protect said beautiful cinnamon rolls. Either way, you're a gem.

Bob Suter: You're probably from Wisconsin, right? ;) You know that value and success aren't always measured in tangible results, and you would do anything for the people you love. But at the same time, you're crazy ambitious and are laser-focused on your goals.

Phil Verchota: My friend, you are brilliant. You have a very discerning sense of humor (probably sarcastic as all hell, yes?) and you blaze your own path; you're not one to follow the crowd or like something just because it's conventional!

Mark Wells: You take zero BS from anyone and you always speak your mind, for better or worse. You're also strong as hell, and there's a good chance you've overcome some serious stuff in your life, but you have a huge heart to go with it!

Miracle Monday: Red Army

Alright, I'm like five months late to this party. But when a movie has a limited release and doesn't come to your city, you just have to wait until you find another method by which to watch it. So Red Army premiered in January and I'm writing about it in June. (Finally!)

But now that that's out of the way... since I talked about Of Miracles and Men when it aired, I thought it was only fitting to talk about the other movie about Soviet hockey that was made this year. As in Of Miracles and Men, the Lake Placid Olympics were a pretty small footnote in Red Army. But if Of Miracles and Men did anything, it gave me a very strong fondness for Slava Fetisov, so I happily watched to hear some more from him. And I wasn't disappointed!

The movie starts with Slava Fetisov sitting in front of the camera but speaking on the phone. He hangs up but continues working on his phone while the director begins to talk to him about the concept of the film. It's incredibly awkward and you can tell Slava's just not having it. He says, "I'm busy now, hold on." But the director continues talking and asking questions. And finally Slava, without looking away from his phone, gives him the finger.

The very last clip of the movie cuts back to this interview; the director says "When you die, this [movie] is going to be your legacy!" And Slava, eyes still glued to his phone, says, "I know, I appreciate it. Good guy. I'm lucky to have you." The director says, "We're both lucky, to have each other." Slava smiles and says, "That's even better." He holds his phone to his ear, motions that he needs a few minutes, and then gives a thumbs up.

That, to me, sums up everything about this movie. You might start it thinking Slava's some cold, unfeeling Soviet, but by the end you realize that he's just a normal dude.

Or, well... sort of normal. :P

What continues to stick out to me is that, the more I learn about Soviet hockey, the more I believe that it's truly a tragic story. It's strange to even say that, considering how much those teams won and the staggering amount of success they had. But punctuating the stories of victories and medals are stories of struggles and losses far more significant than those that show up in record books. Slava talked about living rough when he was a kid, in an apartment with three families and no running water. "But I was happy kid. I played game, played hockey." It's truly heartbreaking to know how much he and his teammates loved hockey, and how much they grew to resent it.

The tragedy, really, starts with Viktor Tikhonov, the national team coach. In all of Slava's interview clips during the film, two things get the same negative reaction from him: being asked about Lake Placid, and being asked about Tikhonov. He falls silent, his face goes somber, and he takes a few painfully awkward seconds to gather his words. (When asked about Lake Placid, he eventually chuckles and goes, “You want a story? You got the time?” But when asked about Tikhonov, he just sort of sighs. Pretty telling.) Again, it's strange to say that Tikhonov ruined everything when he's one of the winningest coaches in hockey history.

But when Slava's younger brother was killed in a car crash in '85, Tikhonov offered no sympathy. And when a teammate asked to leave the team to go see his dying father, Tikhonov said no. These moments sort of triggered the thought process of, "why are you suffering so much for this team?" Slava started thinking about losing games on purpose so maybe he'd get kicked off the team and could go play elsewhere. He felt that disrespected as a human being. When he came to Canada and the U.S. with the Soviet national team, he never even thought about defecting. Not even after 1988, when he was being courted by the New Jersey Devils. Tikhonov had told him he'd be allowed to stay and finish the season in the NHL but went back on his promise and refused to let him leave; this is what finally prompted Slava to quit the Red Army team. He was tired of Tikhonov's dictatorial regime and no longer wanted to play for a coach he couldn't trust. He became a persona non grata in the Soviet Union: people he knew stopped talking to him, no hockey facility would let him train there, and the police handcuffed him to a tree and beat him. Really, it's awful to think that something that once made him so happy had turned into such a source of misery in his life.

You really start hating Tikhonov and hurting for all of his players, which is kind of the magic of this movie. All of the players are so completely humanized. There's a good chunk of time devoted to "the Russian Five" -- Slava, Sergei Makarov, Igor Larionov, Vladimir Krutov, and Alexei Kasatonov -- who were kept together as a unit on the ice and spent all their time together off the ice. They're considered the greatest five-man unit in hockey history. Krutov, I have to say, has the most mournful face and just looking at him hits me right in the heart. And then there's the story of Slava and Alexei Kasatonov.

They were best friends, like brothers -- they played together as a defensive pair for their entire lives, grew up together, spent time with each other's families, the whole shebang -- but had a falling-out when Slava quit the national team. Alexei went public and said he disagreed with Slava's decision. (Makarov, Krutov and Larionov stood up for Slava; Alexei was the only one of the Five not to support him.) When the director asked Alexei to tell the story of what happened, he got visibly upset. With only a little more prompting he had tears in his eyes, and the only thing he said was, "Next question." It clearly still cuts very deep for the both of them. Later on they ended up playing together for the New Jersey Devils (awkwardly), but they ARE friends again! And when Slava was the Sports Minister of Russia, he appointed Alexei as the Vice President of the Red Army Hockey Club. (For real, one of my big complaints about Of Miracles and Men was that it never told us if these two ever reconciled. So when I learned that they have, I may have made a noise like a dying animal. Guys, I didn't need all these Soviet feelings in my life.)

I'm very fragile about this. I need a moment.

I also need to mention that this is a phenomenally-made movie. The graphics, the music, the silence, the creative use of close camera shots... it's all really, really excellent. The film opens with a clip of a speech by Ronald Reagan; "In the traditional motion picture story, villains are usually defeated, the ending is a happy one. I can make no such promise for the picture you're about to watch. The story isn't over. You in the audience are part of the conflict." Obviously this speech is from the '80s, but it rang very true here and felt incredibly poignant. Does this movie have a happy ending? It's hard to say, and I still haven't totally decided on the answer.