THE WAITING

I support two NHL teams, fully, as a "fan", the New York Islanders and the Boston Bruins. For a 25 year old, neither franchise is a particularly joyous fit. In New York, those who pull for the Isles are few and far between, and they tend to be older, reverting in conversation to the glory days in the 80's. For the Bruins, fans are plenty, but cups are not. Still, the folks in Boston remember the days of Orr and Co. as fondly as anything; even my mother, who does not watch sports, to begin with, let alone hockey, as marginalized as it is nowadays, remembers the reverence for #4 when she was growing up in Cambridge. Born in 1985, I, like many others who were just born too late, am tortured by what I missed.

There are other examples that fit in my life: the '86 Mets, Larry Bird in his heyday, Parcells' Giants (I was 5), the '75 Red Sox, the '69 Mets, even the Brooklyn Dodgers, but bigger than any of these memories that I'm just not lucky enough to have, by leaps and bounds, however, bigger than Orr's Big Bad Bruins, Potvin-Gillies-Smith-Trottier, or a ball rolling by Buckner, and perhaps more referenced than any sporting event, period, in this country, is the Miracle on Ice. Yes, it's a wonderful, magical thing that we were able to do what we did, as a hockey nation, when we did it, and yes, I enjoy all the interviews, documentaries, Disney movies, etc., but boy does it drive me nuts that I wasn't around for it!

I understand that there will never be another 1980; nothing could even sniff 1980. I understand that the Cold War is over, and that there is no iron curtain standing between Plattsburgh and Montreal, or Winnipeg and Fargo, but for our time, for our generation, this is about as close as we can get.

This Canadian team, as good as Tretiak, Mikhailov, etc., were, is a collection of essentially half of the the best 50 players on earth, playing at home. They are a beast as beastly as any to lace up skates, and we, though also completely composed of NHL'ers, are not that way. Team USA, a collection of a few stars, some nice role players, and a great goalie, was picked by most experts to come in somewhere between 3rd, if they got lucky, and 7th. Instead, we sit on the edge of a gold medal game, against that same aforementioned northern nation, ever haughty in their view of our brand of their game, and we look like we belong here; there has been no luck.

Let us not forget, too, that while there is no Cold War, and Canada is about as much our political enemy as is Bermuda, there is a major crisis in our country. The combined approval ratings of the last two presidents is at the Ford/Carter level, the economy, jobs and all, finds itself in an eerily similar spot to 1980, there is a war on terror still going, troops scattered, in harm's way, all over the globe, and from Town Halls to Capitol Hills, we are at one other's throats. In essence, the stakes are not the same, but boy, could we use a feel-good, unifying story, and win or lose, I think we've had it.

Here's to taking it one more step, and giving us post-boomers, and on, our own little Miracle.