A transistor radio modeled after a Coca Cola bottle was a fixture of my childhood. Back in the pre-ESPN days, when we weren’t blitzed with televised sports coverage 24 hours a day, it provided hours of entertainment. Every local team was on the airwaves, and rarely an evening went by that I wasn’t tuned into the likes of Al Shaver, Herb Carneal or Marsh Nelson.

On Feb. 22, 1980, that radio enjoyed its greatest moment thanks to a hockey game. It will be forever etched in the minds of about two dozen people gathered in, of all places, the boys’ locker room of Duluth’s Lincoln Junior High School, where I was a student at the time. 

To give some background, the United States/Soviet Union medal round matchup at the Lake Placid Olympics began at 4 p.m., that day. With ABC not televising it live, the lone choice in the Northland was a radio feed picked up by one of the local AM stations. This wasn’t a bad option as most people, including myself, felt the Americans didn’t stand a chance. Besides, ABC was going to telecast the game on a delayed basis later that evening, so if something miraculous happened, I’d be able to see it anyway.

My problems began when I returned home from school that day, when my parents reminded me that I had agreed to accompany my younger brother to his youth basketball league’s free throw shooting contest. This competition, slated for a 5 p.m., start back at Lincoln, nixed my plans of retreating to the basement couch with my radio for an early Friday evening of Olympic hockey.

Being a dutiful older sibling, I kept my promise. I took my Coke bottle with me to the contest, hoping the batteries wouldn’t die and that I could find a spot with decent reception. We listened to that incredible first period, including Mark Johnson’s last-second goal, on the radio of my dad’s truck as he drove us to the school. Once inside, I was relieved that I could hear the game while sitting in the top row of the bleachers, and excited when the Americans trailed only 3-2 heading to the third.

Noise, however, became an issue during the second intermission. The gym was now filled with people and the reverberating sounds of basketball, making it impossible to hear the hockey game. I held the radio, which wasn’t equipped for headphones, next to my ear for a few minutes, causing two adults to approach and ask why I was holding a Coke bottle against my head. After explaining my plight, one suggested it might be quieter if I go into a hallway. I gave it a try and he was right, but unfortunately it would only play static in that area.

Frustrated and having to use the bathroom, I then stepped into the locker room. To my surprise, the sound of the game returned as soon as I walked in. I knew where I would be spending the third period, and was soon joined by several others. Word had spread that the Americans had a chance, and that the boys’ locker room was the place to be for the radio broadcast.

It must have been an odd sight. Over 20 adults and kids standing around a wooden bench, staring at what appeared to be a Coke bottle and listening to the announcer’s description over the roar of the Olympic Center crowd. When Johnson tied the game, we erupted in cheers, but settled quickly to hear the continuing action. 

The Mike Eruzione goal that put the Americans ahead brought a more sustained celebration, but we soon returned to a quiet tenseness as the final minutes ticked down. I remember having a knot in my stomach, sure the Soviets would somehow tally twice and win like they always did.

But it didn’t happen that way, and when the game ended we again celebrated. For some reason, the local radio station cut off the feed just a minute or two after the final buzzer, and the Coke bottle began playing music. No postgame report was heard, so we were left to ourselves to digest what had just happened. I’ve always been really glad the broadcast ended that way. 

I have no recollection of how my brother fared shooting free throws that evening. When our ride came, we hustled home for the delayed telecast. The gold medal was secured with the win over Finland two days later, and a week or so after that I attended a UMD game where they honored the team members with Duluth ties. Phil Verchota, John Harrington and Mark Pavelich walked past me in a concourse, and for a kid, that was about as cool as it gets.

On Feb. 22, 1980, in Lake Placid, N.Y., the United States Olympic Team pulled off what many consider to be one of the greatest upsets in sports’ history when a team filled with college kids (12 of them Minnesotans) and led by a college coach (St. Paul native Herb Brooks) defeated a heavily-favored Soviet Union team comprised of professionals and legendary international hockey players. Team USA upended the Soviet squad 4-3 in the first medal round game before defeating Finland 4-2 to capture the United States’ first gold medal in hockey since 1960.

Of the 20 players on the U.S. team, 13 eventually played in the NHL. Five of them – Neal Broten, Ken Morrow, Mike Ramsey, Dave Christian and Mark Johnson – would go on to play over 500 NHL games.

The head coach at the University of Minnesota prior to taking the helm with Team USA, Brooks went on to coach several NHL teams in the 1980s and 1990s. He was also behind the bench for the United States’ 2002 Olympic silver medal winning team in Salt Lake City. Brooks died in a car crash in 2003 at the age of 66. The ice arena in Lake Placid is now named in his honor.

The 1980 Olympics stand as the last time the U.S. has won a gold medal in men’s hockey.

1980 Olympics Final Standings & U.S. Results
GOLD          United States
SILVER        Soviet Union
BRONZE     Sweden

U.S. RECORD
6-0-1 (1st)

DATE       RESULT
Feb. 12    USA 2, Sweden 2
Feb. 14    USA 7, Czechoslovakia 3
Feb. 16    USA 5, Norway 1
Feb. 18    USA 7, Romania 2
Feb. 20    USA 4, West Germany 2
Feb. 22    USA 4, Soviet Union 3
Feb. 24    USA 4, Finland 2