Catching Olympic Gold Fever

Lake Placid’s population has held steady for years, hovering around 3,000. But on Feb. 22, 1980, it was every American’s hometown.
“This place seats 7,700 but that night had about 10,000 or 11,000,” says Sandy Caligiore, former director of communications for the Olympic Regional Development Authority, overseer of all-things Olympic in Lake Placid, including the Herb Brooks Arena in which we stand. “But to listen to people who said they were there, there would had to have been a million here.”
It was here on that night the much underestimated United States hockey team defeated the powerhouse Russians in what Sports Illustrated deemed the greatest sports moment of the 20th century. They later beat the Fins next to capture the gold and America’s heart. I’m a total hockey freak and had come to this hallowed hall with my son, another huge fan, to embrace it all.
I have seen “Miracle on Ice” footage a million times, and every single time that Al Michaels roars “Do you believe in miracles? YES!” I get goose bumps that won’t quit. Walking into the arena where it happens and the memories linger thick in the air, those goose bumps are the size of goalposts.
My son, 20 when we visited in 2008, and I stand above the corner where U.S. goalie Jim Craig, draped in an American flag, mouthed the words “Where’s my father?” looking into the stands for his dad. It is an iconic moment indelibly etched in the minds of Americans who lived during that time and recall the game as being as much a political statement and patriotic shot in the arm for a country in turmoil – the Cold War, gasoline shortage and Iranian hostage crisis were all in full swing - as it was a mere hockey game.
The Olympic Center where it happened is nestled in the heart of picturesque Lake Placid, and is a remarkably open place. You walk into the arena, named for the legendary coach, the late Herb Brooks, who lead the upstart American kids to improbable victory, and just stand and let the chills warm you from the inside out. Check out the Olympic museum, where Craig's goal, stick and flag are on display.
But the hockey gold isn’t the only memory to share here. Outside on the oval ice track is where Eric Heiden took five golds in speed skating in 1980, the last time long-track speed skating was held outside, a track now flooded and frozen in winter for the public to enjoy. Also here is the Jack Shea Arena, named for a man who in the 1932 Olympics in Lake Placid took two skating gold medals. His grandson Jimmy won gold in the skeleton event at the 2002 Olympics in Salt Lake City.
We also wander over to the Olympic ski jump center a few miles outside of town, where the 120 meter behemoth defies logic as you look straight up 365 feet and wonder how the hell anyone has the guts to slide down this thing and into thin air. Take an elevator ride to the top to check out a view that will take your breath away. In summer and fall, try the 1980 bobsled run, a half-mile, 40-second blast of jarring, jolting thrills, near-vertical cornering and g-force straightaway speeds.
Having seen all that, my son and I wander to the Herb Brooks arena one last time. Little has changed here since 1980. It still has the original seats, the original scoreboard, the original locker room number seven where the American kids dressed, and the original magic still pervading this most American of sports venues.
We stand quietly, reflecting and remembering, and trying to get those goose bumps down to a manageable level. We can’t, and really, don’t want to. Ever.