If there is one singular, immeasurable moment in American hockey history, it is undoubtedly the “Miracle on Ice.” The U.S. men’s national team’s iconic upset victory over the dominant Soviets at the 1980 Winter Olympics properly introduced an entire nation to a sport only a select, northerly few knew well. In February of 1980, hockey hit the big time in America.
For those who did not experience this underdog story of the ages live, there’s been various retellings, including the 2004 dramatic feature film, Miracle, starring Kurt Russell. A box office success now widely seen as one of the best sports movies of all time, Miracle reeducated the masses, further entrenching the moment in the collective consciousness.
Twenty-two years after Hollywood’s telling, there’s a brand new cinematic take to behold, a movie-length documentary titled Miracle: The Boys of ’80, by Jake Rogal and Max Gershberg. After all this time, given everything that’s been said, you might be wondering, why do we keep coming back to this team, this moment, and what more is there to tell?
Firstly, Boys of ’80 features a plethora of previously unseen footage, giving us an unprecedented look at the tournament and the buildup to it, with detailed game recaps, live reactions, and off-ice documentation that provides fresh insight into sociopolitical climate at the time. For someone like myself, who did not witness the 1980 Olympic tournament live, nor the Cold War, it’s an amazing time capsule. But even for those who did experience it in real time, Boys of ’80 has something new for all–including the players themselves. There are numerous occasions where these now-retired athletes see their moment of glory from an angle they hadn’t before, or catch family cheering in the stands and giving interviews from home. This documentary is as much for the players as it is for the public, a very visual reminder of everything they went through, how and by whom they were helped, and what they achieved. The result is touching and feels worthwhile in and of itself.
“They were blue-collar kids,” the documentary’s co-director Gershberg tells SPORT. “They came from kind of hardscrabble roots. As a collective, they just were a team that embodied a certain spirit. I think it allowed people to relate to them. So in the film we try to really unfurl some of those human elements of who these boys were back then, playing against this invincible Soviet team.”
Beyond the obviously appealing David vs. Goliath underdog storyline, we’re called to the Miracle on Ice because of this essential human element. Writer and political commentator George Will calls it “sports plus” in the doc, “the human moment beyond an athlete’s moment.” This idea is also what SPORT Magazine was founded around way back in 1946, going beyond the box score and into the mind and heart of each athlete. The 1980 U.S. men’s national team was entirely made up of true amateurs—as per Olympic rules at the time—working class college kids pulled from campuses across the North East. Boys of ’80 showcases the raw, real human beings behind the legendary moment, the players especially.
Yes, we all love seeing the world’s best go head-to-head, as they will this month in Milan, but there is something inherently relatable about the comparatively unknown amateur athlete competing on the biggest stage. Would the general public—who were, as Gershberg puts it, “downtrodden and in need of a shot of the arm”—have connected with a bunch of million-dollar superstar NHLers like they did these young college kids? Unlikely.
“These boys were not aware of how important they were in the moment,” adds Rogal, “and it makes it so much more charming because they meant so much to so many. People can't get gas and they're scared of the Russians, and all these people are putting their fears and their hopes on these guys.” The delineation between the “good” and “bad” guys had never been clearer; this was more than a game to American viewers, it was a war of ideologies. The U.S. team fought the fight for them.
To win their battle against the mighty Soviets, the U.S. first had to settle the skirmishes amongst themselves. “These guys hated each other in college hockey”, tells Gershberg. “They were rivals. You see it even now when they hang out. There's just cultural differences. You know, they joke about it, but the vibe of the Minnesota guys is different than the guys from New England.” Head coach Herb Brooks was tasked with melding established rivals in a matter of months, while the Soviet team had years to gel as a unit. It was another big reason the odds were stacked against the Americans, but, thankfully, Brooks “just had this knack of understanding the psychology of when to give them a kick,” according to Gershberg. The U.S. coach, full of vim and vigour, gave his players a shared enemy before even facing the Soviets; they bonded together in the face of their often cold, distant leader, uniting to prove themselves to the man that brought them together.
The result? No moment was too big for this US team, and no lead was insurmountable. Gershberg explains how “throughout the Olympics, they were kind of comeback artists. They got slow starts. They fell behind in almost all their games, including those final couple games.” Down but never out, a fitting metaphor for the United States as a whole.
The players gave the country what it needed—plucky underdog heroes to see themselves in—and the country gave their love right back. Attendance grew with each game, as did the fans’ fervour, which eventually boiled over into the (alleged) birth of the now-iconic “U-S-A!” chant. Al Michaels, the play-by-play wordsmith who saw his career blossom in the wake of calling the 1980 tournament, swears that this was the genesis of the famous rallying cry. If it wasn't the very first time, it definitely was the moment where the chant caught on and became part of America’s sporting story, just like hockey itself.
Simply put, without the incredible 4-3 win over the Soviets en route to gold, the game of hockey would not be where it is today in the United States. Gershberg and Rogal, who hail from Buffalo and Pittsburgh, two of America’s more hockey-mad cities, confirm this: “In the ‘70s, [hockey] wasn't a thing. It was very niche. The 1980 team had a huge part in shifting that for people of our generation and making it more culturally relevant.”
In 2026, the US national program is as relevant as it’s ever been; both the men's and women's Olympic rosters are stacked with pros and have a legitimate shot at winning gold. “I think [today’s players have] the best skill we've ever seen in the game,” says Rogel. “So I’m looking forward to the Olympics, especially building on the Four Nations momentum, which was so fun to watch. I don't know how you can't get excited about Olympic hockey.”
Indeed, Olympic puck is always intriguing, no matter the status of those competing. It's been 12 years since NHL players have taken part, and their involvement is certainly building excitement and drawing interest; why wouldn’t we want the best players in the world on the biggest stage? Well, because of magic moments like the Miracle on Ice; the everyman U.S. roster was the perfect ingredient for a storybook finish for the ages. We may never see a tournament like that again, which underscores the importance of Boys of ‘80; it captures a snapshot, frozen in time, of hockey at its rawest. For the people, by the people.