I love Olympic hockey. I'm a Minnesotan who came of age with the 1980 U.S. men's team, how could I not? As I have been watching the Olympics this winter my eyes have naturally been drawn to one of my favorite photos, which hangs prominently in our family room:
Ya, that's me in the middle with my brother close behind, waiting to have our sticks signed by Herb Brooks the summer after the 1980 Olympics. The photo was taken at the Roseville Ice Arena just after a session in Herbie's summer camp. Attending his camp the summer after the Olympics was akin to hanging out with God just after the seventh day. We even got a pep talk from the man himself, in which we were instructed by the greatest coach ever to watch out for fast women.
And the stick? Still got it, including the signature, which I immediately covered in scotch tape when I got home that day. The curve is long gone and it would no doubt disintegrate if I tried to pass a donut, but the signature is as clear as the day he signed it:
No reason at all for this post beyond taking a stroll down memory lane. I hope you're enjoying the games. I'm looking forward to another chance to steal hockey gold from Canada. We shall see.
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