University of Minnesota Athletics
Squaw Valley Gold; The Story of the 1960 USA Olympic Hockey Team
1/24/2002 12:00:00 AM | Athletics
In Squaw Valley, Calif., the U.S. hockey team would shift the country's consciousness to the sport. Twenty years before the "Miracle on Ice," there was the "Team of Destiny." That team captured the hearts and dreams of millions of Americans from all parts of the nation. And the game that introduced America to hockey personified a cold war, for it was the world's two superpowers, the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R, that would meet on the ice in the small resort town in California to battle for the gold medal.
The result was improbable, and, according to the media at the time, impossible. But the unheralded Americans did the impossible and captured gold in Squaw Valley, the culmination of a long and arduous journey to the top of international hockey. Squaw Valley Gold: American Hockey's Olympic Odyssey, a new book by Seamus O'Coughlin of St. Paul, Minn., examines that rollercoaster journey.
According to O'Coughlin, 67, aka James Coughlin, the book traces the roots of the hockey culture in the United States from the 1920 Olympic tournament in Antwerp, Belgium, to America's first gold medal in Olympic ice hockey, a largely misunderstood and forgotten period in the country's sports history. For O'Coughlin, it was a story that needed to be told.
"The major reason I wrote the book was because most people think Olympic hockey started with 1980. I think that 1980 would not have happened without 1960. If you weren't 10 years old in 1960, you probably didn't even know it happened."
Squaw Valley Gold explores the bumpy road hockey in the United States took to gain the collective consciousness of the sport in Americans' minds. The 1960 Olympics was less of a beginning to the sport of hockey in the U.S. than a major step forward to establish blue lines, five holes, slashing and "Kick save.and a beaut" to the nation's sporting lexicon.
"Until 1960, except for the six original NHL cities, hockey basically was a small-town sport," O'Coughlin explained. "Then came the Olympics and the U.S. playing the Soviets. It was a Saturday afternoon, Feb. 27, and the game was on black-and-white television. The Berlin Wall wasn't up yet, but the Iron Curtain was being drawn shut and we were beginning to joust with the Soviets on many issues. Twenty million Americans - 26.1 percent of the homes with TV sets - watched that game, more than the combined audience of all other programs on at the same time, and suddenly ice hockey was introduced to the American public."
In the book, O'Coughlin examines the introduction of the sport to the public by providing countless anecdotes and opinions from many of the pioneers of hockey in the U.S. "I concentrated on the people, those who made things happen. The scores and results are known."
A significant number of those people that made things happen hail from Minnesota and several of those once wore the `M' at the University of Minnesota. In 1960, two former Golden Gophers, goaltender Jack McCartan and Minnesota's scoring prodigy John Mayasich, were vital cogs in the machine that captured gold in Squaw Valley.
If O'Coughlin had to pick a hero from the ranks of the 1960 squad, it would have to be McCartan. "Jack shut everybody out when the team was playing poorly. He carried the Americans on his back when they couldn't score."
In the book, he put it this way: "In the Winter Games, a perfect gold could mean a world record in speedskating, a 10.0 in figure skating, the longest jump on the hill or an undefeated record in hockey. At Squaw Valley, the most perfect performance belonged to goalie Jack McCartan. (Head Coach Jack) Riley anointed him `the greatest John since John the Baptist.'"
On Mayasich, the book gives this quote from Jack Kirrane: "Mayasich became the idol of the Japanese [team] because of his slap shot. They followed him around the village, feeling his biceps, giving him gifts and wanting to have their picture taken with him."
The stories that are woven throughout Squaw Valley Gold give one a sense of the state of the sport of hockey as it grew from obscurity to become a major player on the national sport scene. But O'Coughlin contends that the 1960 gold medal performance should gain the same notoriety as the 1980 team has.
"People think 1980 was unique. It wasn't," Coughlin said. "In a lot of ways, 1980 was a duplication of the effort and the finish of 1960." Perhaps Mayasich put it best when he said, as quoted in the book, "It was not just another game, but we didn't realize its importance or the prestige associated with it. We were isolated in this little area of the country, playing hockey. We didn't know the United States cared. Even though the Games were televised, you didn't get that feeling. After 40 years, I still get complimented for winning the medal. Today, people are more interested and have a greater attachment to it. Back then, you just went home and went back to work."
O'Coughlin, a former sports information director at Minnesota-Duluth and sports reporter for several newspapers, lets his background in hockey come shining through in Squaw Valley Gold. The book, which came out in October 2001, takes the reader on an enjoyable journey through the development of hockey in the United States.
"You don't make any money off these books," O'Coughlin said. "I wrote it because it was a story that needed to be told."
Squaw Valley Gold is available at Ruminator Books in Minneapolis and St. Paul, the Bookcase in Wayzata, online at amazon.com or iuniverse.com, or by contacting O'Coughlin at jec17454@aol.comor by phone at 651-699-9994. The cost is $18.95. The book is published by iUniverse
It was a different world back in 1960. The Iron Curtain was going up in Eastern Europe. The Cold War was about to hit its stride. The United States and Russia were arch enemies in every respect. Television was still a rather new concept to America. The Olympic Games were not the grand spectacle that we know today. And the sport of hockey was unknown to much of the country.
In Squaw Valley, Calif., the U.S. hockey team would shift the country's consciousness to the sport. Twenty years before the "Miracle on Ice," there was the "Team of Destiny." That team captured the hearts and dreams of millions of Americans from all parts of the nation. And the game that introduced America to hockey personified a cold war, for it was the world's two superpowers, the U.S.A. and the U.S.S.R, that would meet on the ice in the small resort town in California to battle for the gold medal.
The result was improbable, and, according to the media at the time, impossible. But the unheralded Americans did the impossible and captured gold in Squaw Valley, the culmination of a long and arduous journey to the top of international hockey. Squaw Valley Gold: American Hockey's Olympic Odyssey, a new book by Seamus O'Coughlin of St. Paul, Minn., examines that rollercoaster journey.
According to O'Coughlin, 67, aka James Coughlin, the book traces the roots of the hockey culture in the United States from the 1920 Olympic tournament in Antwerp, Belgium, to America's first gold medal in Olympic ice hockey, a largely misunderstood and forgotten period in the country's sports history. For O'Coughlin, it was a story that needed to be told.
"The major reason I wrote the book was because most people think Olympic hockey started with 1980. I think that 1980 would not have happened without 1960. If you weren't 10 years old in 1960, you probably didn't even know it happened."
Squaw Valley Gold explores the bumpy road hockey in the United States took to gain the collective consciousness of the sport in Americans' minds. The 1960 Olympics was less of a beginning to the sport of hockey in the U.S. than a major step forward to establish blue lines, five holes, slashing and "Kick save.and a beaut" to the nation's sporting lexicon.
"Until 1960, except for the six original NHL cities, hockey basically was a small-town sport," O'Coughlin explained. "Then came the Olympics and the U.S. playing the Soviets. It was a Saturday afternoon, Feb. 27, and the game was on black-and-white television. The Berlin Wall wasn't up yet, but the Iron Curtain was being drawn shut and we were beginning to joust with the Soviets on many issues. Twenty million Americans - 26.1 percent of the homes with TV sets - watched that game, more than the combined audience of all other programs on at the same time, and suddenly ice hockey was introduced to the American public."
In the book, O'Coughlin examines the introduction of the sport to the public by providing countless anecdotes and opinions from many of the pioneers of hockey in the U.S. "I concentrated on the people, those who made things happen. The scores and results are known."
A significant number of those people that made things happen hail from Minnesota and several of those once wore the `M' at the University of Minnesota. In 1960, two former Golden Gophers, goaltender Jack McCartan and Minnesota's scoring prodigy John Mayasich, were vital cogs in the machine that captured gold in Squaw Valley.
If O'Coughlin had to pick a hero from the ranks of the 1960 squad, it would have to be McCartan. "Jack shut everybody out when the team was playing poorly. He carried the Americans on his back when they couldn't score."
In the book, he put it this way: "In the Winter Games, a perfect gold could mean a world record in speedskating, a 10.0 in figure skating, the longest jump on the hill or an undefeated record in hockey. At Squaw Valley, the most perfect performance belonged to goalie Jack McCartan. (Head Coach Jack) Riley anointed him `the greatest John since John the Baptist.'"
On Mayasich, the book gives this quote from Jack Kirrane: "Mayasich became the idol of the Japanese [team] because of his slap shot. They followed him around the village, feeling his biceps, giving him gifts and wanting to have their picture taken with him."
The stories that are woven throughout Squaw Valley Gold give one a sense of the state of the sport of hockey as it grew from obscurity to become a major player on the national sport scene. But O'Coughlin contends that the 1960 gold medal performance should gain the same notoriety as the 1980 team has.
"People think 1980 was unique. It wasn't," Coughlin said. "In a lot of ways, 1980 was a duplication of the effort and the finish of 1960." Perhaps Mayasich put it best when he said, as quoted in the book, "It was not just another game, but we didn't realize its importance or the prestige associated with it. We were isolated in this little area of the country, playing hockey. We didn't know the United States cared. Even though the Games were televised, you didn't get that feeling. After 40 years, I still get complimented for winning the medal. Today, people are more interested and have a greater attachment to it. Back then, you just went home and went back to work."
O'Coughlin, a former sports information director at Minnesota-Duluth and sports reporter for several newspapers, lets his background in hockey come shining through in Squaw Valley Gold. The book, which came out in October 2001, takes the reader on an enjoyable journey through the development of hockey in the United States.
"You don't make any money off these books," O'Coughlin said. "I wrote it because it was a story that needed to be told."
Squaw Valley Gold is available at Ruminator Books in Minneapolis and St. Paul, the Bookcase in Wayzata, online at amazon.com or iuniverse.com, or by contacting O'Coughlin at jec17454@aol.comor by phone at 651-699-9994. The cost is $18.95. The book is published by iUniverse
