Everyone who witnessed it remembers where they were.

The victory of the gold-medal-winning U.S. men’s hockey team over the Soviets at the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid, N.Y., was the greatest American sporting event of the 20th century, featuring the greatest call of all time — broadcaster Al Michaels indelibly counting down the final seconds before exclaiming, “Do you believe in miracles? … Yes!”

On the occasion of this year’s Winter Olympics, Netflix has released a new documentary on the team, “Miracle: The Boys of ‘80.”

It is a story that has been oft-told, but never grows old. David vs. Goliath. Amateur vs. Professional. Freedom vs. Tyranny.

The backdrop of U.S.–Soviet geopolitical competition and our national humiliation in the late 1970s gave the victory an extra emotional punch. Malaise, at least for a time, gave way to joyful flag-waving and exultant chants of “USA!”

The centerpiece of “Miracle” is the interviews with the players, now old men, individually and sitting together on their old bench in the Lake Placid arena. There are plenty of tears, as the players think about their youth, about their achievement, about lost family members.

The missing figure looming large is the late coach Herb Brooks. His strategic insight, psychological acuity, and extremely demanding style forged a group of college kids into a historic team. (The Olympics back then were for amateurs, although the Soviets were professional in all but name.)

Brooks was obsessed with Soviet hockey and wanted to turn its insights against it. His team would be physically tough, but would be able to skate and pass, too, and be better conditioned than anyone else, giving it better legs in the third period.

The U.S. team compiled an impressive record during the exhibition season. But the Soviets were giants. They’d won the gold at every single Olympics since 1964. During this run, their combined Olympic record was 27–1–1, and they had outscored the opposition 175–44.

The U.S. played an exhibition game against the Soviets at Madison Square Garden right before the Games and got crushed 10–3.

At the Olympics, the U.S. managed a last-minute tie against Sweden and then manhandled a good Czech team, 7–3. As they racked up more wins, they caught the nation’s attention, but the Soviets awaited in the medal round.

No one gave the U.S. a chance. Al Michaels says he was just hoping it’d still be close, say, the Soviets up 3–1, in the middle of the game.

Brooks delivered a famous pre-game St. Crispin’s Day speech to his team: “This moment is yours.” The coach’s grown children show the documentarians the card that he wrote his notes on — surely one of the most precious relics in the history of U.S. sports.

The U.S. emerged tied with the Soviets 2–2 after one period, and survived an onslaught in the second, getting outshot 12–2 but trailing only 3–2. Then, magic happened in the third. Team captain Mike Eruzione scored his iconic goal to put the U.S. up 4–3.

Ten minutes of Al Michaels–narrated agony ensued as the U.S. had to protect the lead against an explosive Soviet team.

The U.S. still had to beat the Finns for the gold. True to form, Brooks ran his team through punishing drills to prepare, even after they’d become national heroes.

Ordinary sports create an ersatz nationalism, with fans feeling a deep connection to their own team, to its history, colors, and past heroes. When this sports patriotism was combined with the real thing in 1980 — especially when arrayed against an aggressive, malign rival power — the effect was explosive.

The documentary shows the U.S. players walking down the street at Lake Placid. Forty-five years later, people still stop them and yell out their thanks. They showed that miracles happen, and did it for the red, white, and blue.

© 2026 by King Features Syndicate