Miracle Monday: Superlatives, Part 2

Happy Monday! Is everyone ready for the second half of superlatives? I've got to say, this has been so much fun. I really wish I could make it last another few weeks, but you know what they say about too much of a good thing. Alas. (Click here if you missed part one!)

While several other guys on this team have been called Picassos on ice, Eric here was the true creative-type artist of the group. He'd have random streaks of brilliance, and then equally as random streaks of nothing. But when he was brilliant, his hockey was like a work of art. He'd often confuse his own teammates with his unpredictability on the ice, and he even had the head-in-the-clouds, quirky personality stereotypical of artists. So, really, the ice was his canvas!

Mac here has just about everything you'd find in a president: an insanely brilliant mind, the ability to be friends with athletes and academics alike, good looks, business smarts, interview skills and an ease in front of the camera, and the ambition and ceaseless drive to make things happen. The more I think about it, the more surprised I am that he hasn't held a public office yet. With this man in the Oval Office, we'd all be in very good hands!

The job of a dad is to be a support system, and Janny fits that to a T. As the backup goalie he didn't play very often, so his role became that of supporting his teammates. He sharpened skates and had words of encouragement for teammates who had a bad shift, pushed Jim Craig to the top of his game, and was all-around just there for everybody. And he always did it happily.

If everyone in the world was more like Buzz, I firmly believe there'd be no wars. Seriously. He's always warm and humble and giving, and was often the focus of Herb's abuse because Herb knew that not much would get to him. On top of all that, the U.S. government has already sent him to Turkey to teach hockey, and he still keeps in touch with some of the kids he coached. I mean, come on. Give the man an award.

It may seem odd to award Best Athlete on a team of athletes, but let's look at Rammer's resume. In high school he was a state tennis champion, an All-City football player, and the best hockey defenseman in the state. Then he attended the University of Minnesota, working his way from junior varsity to varsity starter in less than a season; was the first American ever taken in the first round of the NHL draft; was a starting defenseman on the gold medal-winning Olympic team, where he was known for his aggressive hitting and offensive style of play; and went on to a 17-year NHL career (including four all-star game appearances). The dude could play.

Wellsy had to hustle for his entire life, largely because being a smaller athlete ain't no walk in the park. From the time he was a kid he had to work to prove himself against the odds, even starting college on a partial scholarship before becoming one of the best scorers in the country. He had to bust his butt to make the Olympic roster, and then once on the roster he had to bust his butt to make the team. And then after the Olympics, he had to bust his butt to take his life back after a debilitating injury. His work ethic is tireless!

Guys, Silky's ability to better himself is truly inspirational. As a hockey player he wasn't the best skater, and Herb frequently told him so, but he worked on it relentlessly. He started the Olympics on the fourth line, but managed to play so impressively (even scoring the team's first goal of the Olympics!) that he played the whole medal round on the first line, with the fastest skaters. And when he started struggling with alcoholism, he attacked the problem and turned his life around. Nowadays he competes in triathlons and is in better shape than he was 15 years ago. Amazing.

This is almost a cop-out, because it's just so easy. Ken was known for his solid, dependable presence on the blue line, and goalies loved playing behind him because they could rely on him so completely. I mean, there's a reason he won an Olympic gold medal and four Stanley Cups in four years. There's also a reason why he spent his entire career, from his days as a player right up to Director of Pro Scouting, with a single NHL franchise: Ken Morrow is as reliable as they come.

Jim Craig is a pretty amazing human being. Not only has he befriended some of the Russian players (pictured is Vladimir Myshkin), but he's also incredibly aware of his role on the team and the responsibility he holds. Instead of hogging the attention, he takes so much care to appreciate his teammates and ensure that some of the unsung heroes get recognition. At the 35th anniversary reunion alone, he went out of his way to draw attention to the accomplishments of Steve Janaszak, Eric Strobel and Neal Broten in lieu of himself. Like I said, amazing.

Look at Steve's game face. Is that not the face of someone you'd trust to lead you into battle? Steve was known for being brooding and intense, not saying much but always looking like something was brewing under the surface. He was able to basically score goals at will and simultaneously had the reputation of being a good fighter: so basically, he was the ultimate package. Herb often singled him out for abuse, just to round out the revolutionary stereotype. And he's a pilot. That's a good skill for a revolutionary to have, right? :P

And that concludes our superlative adventure!

Miracle Monday: Mark Wells

I feel like I say this every single week, but... holy cow, am I excited about this one. Like, Peter Norman excited. His is a story that'll make you really sad, and then really happy, and then rinse and repeat a time or two. It's kind of amazing (and crazy bittersweet. But amazing). If absolutely nothing else, I'm so grateful to The Boys of Winter for doing its due diligence with this one. So buckle in, folks. This is going to be quite the roller coaster. (And when you're done reading this, go read about Peter Norman for god's sake!)

FUN FACTS:

+ Mark Wells was a little kid. He only ever ended up growing to be 5'8", which is tiny for a hockey player, and even tinier when he was growing up. He was perpetually underestimated as an athlete (I feel you, fellow short person!) and constantly had to prove himself to everyone. But not only was he a great hockey player, he was equally as skilled with a baseball bat. When he was 10 he entered a national Pitch, Hit, and Run competition and was laughed at by his competitors for being so small... but he made it to the final round at Yankee Stadium and finished second in the nation, behind a kid named Orel Hershiser. (Orel actually ended up attending Bowling Green, just like Mark and Ken Morrow, and went on to have a storied baseball career with the Los Angeles Dodgers. So, y'know, losing to him ain't so bad.) Even in college, Mark found himself underestimated, as he started his freshman year at Bowling Green without a full scholarship. However, he finished the season as the team's rookie of the year, and when his college career was all said and done he averaged 1.5 points per game.

+ Mark's journey to the Olympics was not an easy one, to say the least; he was the 20th and final man added to the roster. Four months before the Olympics he fractured his ankle, and Herb told him he didn't think Mark could make the team, so he sent him down to the International Hockey League (where Herb basically kept players he may or may not want). This, obviously, didn't sit well with Mark, who literally spit at Herb's feet and told him he'd be back on the Olympic team. He played several months in the IHL and, literally right before the Olympics, Herb put him back on the roster. Mark had been called to meet the team in Detroit and didn't even have a change of clothes with him, so he got stuff to wear from one of the Olympic sponsors in Lake Placid.

+ Part of Herb's hesitation in putting Mark on the Olympic team was his stubbornness. He was incredibly headstrong and could get easily frustrated, which made him a really difficult guy to coach. He kind of had a knack for ticking Herb off, and Herb wasn't totally sold on adding someone to the team who might not fit. But Mark was a fast skater, a sturdy player who had a knack for scoring goals, and Herb ultimately loved his grit. During the Olympics, he put Mark on the fourth line with the sole job of being a defensive center and shutting people down. Against the Soviets he was assigned to get in Valeri Kharlamov's way, and just all around bother them during the last 10 minutes of play. And he did his job, and also walked out of the Olympics with two goals and an assist.

+ The Montreal Canadiens had drafted Mark in 1977, and he turned pro after the Olympics. But after two years of playing in the minors, he decided he'd had enough and retired. So he went back to Michigan and got into the restaurant business. In 1989, he was unloading some crates from a truck when he cracked a vertebra in his back. Even worse, x-rays showed that he also had a degenerative disk disease that left bone rubbing on bone, and only because of his strength had it not been an issue for him before. This was the beginning of a really long, really dark time in Mark's life. He underwent numerous back surgeries, had very limited mobility (and had to rely on a walker and a bed pan for a period of time), became reliant on morphine for the pain, and regularly had suicidal thoughts. He was, essentially, crippled, and had to sell his gold medal to offset his medical expenses. He says that the only thing that kept him alive was feeding the geese outside his mother's house, because it meant that he was needed.

+ In 2001, Mark was so desperate to not be in pain anymore that he had another surgery, this one a laser procedure that "aimed to lessen the pain by burning the nerves in the lower back." And HEY, it worked! He still might not be pain free forever, and he still moves stiffly, but suddenly Mark Wells was able to have a life again. He went back to college to get a business degree, helped his 1980 teammates light the torch at the Salt Lake City 2002 Olympic Winter Games (and was even able to skate in their exhibition reunion game!), is married and has three young kids (!!!!!), is apparently in the process of writing an autobiography (um, yes, sign me up!), and was honored by his hometown rink, which is now named the Mark Wells Arena.

Are you emotional yet? Because I am. Basically, I wish Mark nothing but sunshine and rainbows for the rest of his life. :)