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Olympic hockey: maker of memories and more
 Nick Clark
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In all of my years living and breathing hockey, I can't recall a more memorable winter to be associated with the sport (I was only three in 1980, so I can't say I remember the Miracle).
Our college team here at SCSU has taken me on quite a ride. Heck, they took me through Kansas, and the season is still not over.
But, forget about the whole winter, how about the last week? It's tough to be seriously emotional over a simple game, but there were two events in the past week that reminded me of why I love this sport so dearly.
The first is the wondrous display put on by the Olympians in Salt Lake City. It was said that the tournament in Nagano, Japan, four years ago was a complete flop. And it may have been in these parts, with Team USA taking a nose dive and the fact that if you wanted to watch a game live you were forced to stay up until the wee hours of the night.
This time around, though, was the polar opposite. A distinguished member of the 1980 Olympic team told me a couple of weeks ago that he didn't think the NHL'ers presence in the game would last. Yes, two weeks ago that seemed worthy of thought, but now, after watching those games all day every day (I know, I have a problem) I can't remember a harder fought, more hotly contested hockey tournament ever played.
Those guys went to Salt Lake with one thing on their minds: a medal. It didn't matter if that meant two handing a guy, who was a teammate a week ago, his ass. It didn't matter if they got hurt. It only mattered if they won.
And it was fitting to see the best team win. There were a handful of world-class teams participating, but the team that the Canadians put on the ice was unmatched. The gold medal returned to a place it hadn't been in 50-plus years, to the home of the sport. Now, let's just hope that they leave the chip in the ice and not return it to their shoulder, it was too much fun to see them find it again.
However, upon returning from Denver early Monday morning, I was immediately reminded that this game is just that, a game. The sport lost one of its greats last week. Gene Sack, the longtime Rochester-John Marshall coach, lost his battle with cancer. The man's legend will always live behind a bench, but his true self was in his family. An old roommate of mine, Matt Just, was Sack's grandson. When Just graduated college, he moved to Scottsdale, Ariz. to pursue a career in the golf industry and be close to his grandfather, who had retired in Phoenix.
Just always told me he was going to introduce me to the legend himself. Unfortunately it never did happen, but as a great man once told me, you don't always get to meet the people that matter most so try to be one of those people.
Gene Sack definitely was.
Nick Clark can be reached at: [email protected]
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