In 1980, I heard those words that will live in infamy:

“Do you believe in miracles? Yes!”

It was an amazing moment. Because of the disaster of Vietnam, the corruption of Watergate, the Iranian hostage crisis, the gas shortage and the brutality of disco; the United States needed something to build itself. That game, I believe, did that. I look at the video of the final minute and I still get goosebumps. A bunch of twenty-year-olds beat a professional hockey team (after losing 11-0 a few weeks earlier) to get the first gold medal in Olympic hockey. I was lucky enough to be able to see it on a 12 inch black and white television. If you cannot remember the game or never saw it, look at the clip below.

My life changed that day. So did the lives of my friends. I remember dancing in the streets with them. And we all loved hockey from that moment on. We started by playing in a driveway with brooms and a tennis ball. We played for hours. But we screwed up the brooms to the point they could not be used for less important purposes like cleaning dirt. Parents just don’t get it. Also, the straw ended up all over the driveway (which we could not clean up because we did not have any functional brooms). We, then, bought hockey sticks with plastic heads. Amazing how much better we played with real equipment (and how much cleaner the driveway was). In fact, we were so good, we needed to make it harder. So we bought roller skates. Not inline skates like you get today, but those funky roller skates with axles. The game got harder. The scores got lower.

Then, tragedy struck as it always strikes with boys entering puberty: hot chicks (girls). It started with one getting a girlfriend then another. Our hockey-playing days were over. But the love of the game continued.

I got lucky sometimes and was able to catch an Los Angeles Kings game on television. Now, back in the 80’s, there was no cable. There were, literally, ten channels. The only sports were away games for basketball and baseball (which is why I am a huge Dodger fan). The Kings were only on once in a while when the Dodger game was blacked-out. I would sit and watch and hope for overtime. I loved the Kings (I must have, they lost most of the time).

When I turned seventeen, I was able to go to a game. The Kings played at the Forum in Inglewood (what a dump it was). Because I was a student, I only had to pay $5 to get in (cheaper than a movie). There were great memories. I got to see Wayne Gretzky, Mario Lemeiux Marcel Dionne, Luc Robitaille and Tiger Williams (look that guy up).

Then Wayne Gretzky was traded to Los Angeles and ticket prices went through the roof. No longer could I afford to go to the games. But, with the advent of cable television, I was able to watch all the games on television. And not just the King’s games but just about any game. I always had hockey to watch.

And then there were the playoffs. There is nothing like playoff hockey. And that is why I write this today. It’s playoff time. And though the Kings are not involved, I still look forward to getting home and watching two to three games a night. And I remember the good times I had with the sport throughout my life.

Pictures courtesy of:
rinkroyalty.com
yourhomebasedmom.com
saintanselmhawks.com
youtube.com
mountrantmore.com