Herb
Brooks, Individualist
by
Karen De Coster
by Karen De Coster
The
new Disney movie, Miracle,
has not received the acclaim that I think it deserves, and being
it is a sports movie, and more specifically, a hockey movie, that
is quite understandable. However, it is surprising to note that
libertarians are not talking about the unusual and laudable theme
of this movie individualism, perseverance, and ultimately, the
triumph of genius.
Herb
Brooks, a 3-time NCAA title winner at the University of Minnesota,
coached the US Olympic hockey team to the gold medal in the 1980
Olympics, and indeed, it was one of the most masterful achievements
in all of sports history.
This
is not a piece about feverish nationalism, though every American
cheers on our nation’s own athletes in Olympic competition. Rather,
it is about a man who, in his job, so defined what we libertarians
maintain is the glory of the human spirit: rugged individualism,
commitment, and leadership, combined with a supreme work ethic.
Hockey
is a team sport, yes, but it is made up of individuals who come
together to work toward a common goal, and it takes an extraordinary
leader to pilot that team toward its defined ends. Brooks was a
demanding man, a disciplinarian, and yes, a one-man show, but he
was the right man to do that job with the 1980 US Olympic team.
Unlike
what this New York Press writer, Matt Zoller Seitz, seems
to believe, Brooks did not possess a "Soviet-style collectivist
thinking" at all. In fact, the film consistently played up
his inability to mesh with the collective-nationalist thought process
that typically is inherent in the Olympics itself.
Early
on in the film, there are some great scenes when a member of the
advisory committee to the hockey program makes it clear that his
committee is somehow a part of the "collective leadership"
of the US hockey team, and implies that they will be in on all major
decisions involving team strategy. Brooks quietly shoves any notion
of that aside, and goes about his own means planning and building
a hockey team. Barely two hours into the first day of week-long
tryouts, Brooks gives to his assistant coach the list of players
that are going to make the grade, at least before final cuts a few
months later. The stammering and shocked assistant coach is getting
a taste of what this man is about.
Shortly
thereafter, the leading committee member is livid that this decision
can be made before the week is out, let alone without the "assistance"
and input of the advisory committee, made up mostly of appointed,
administrative pencil pushers. Kurt Russell, in an impeccable performance
as Herb Brooks, replies to the committee member (to paraphrase):
"I know everything about every one of these kids, and I knew
it all before they got here. I’ve coached many of them, and the
ones I didn’t coach, I talked to their coaches. And I talked with
all of these kids’ parents, siblings, teammates, opposing coaches,
and opposing players, and I know everything they can do, are capable
of doing, and will do. This here is my team of 26 players, because
I don’t need to see any more of them than I already know."
The
movie, by this time, has already established Brooks as an uncompromising
individualist who takes ownership of his job and his objectives,
and we see a script that plays out the clashing of wills between
Brooks and the background collective throughout the movie. Unquestionably,
it is the movie’s overriding theme.
Brook’s
stratagem was to beat the Soviets at their own game, and to do that,
he had to assemble a group of essential team players, meaning guys
that were willing to sacrifice personal glory for a shot at the
big prize. North American-style, swashbuckling hockey wasn’t going
to accomplish that, but teaching his boys to stay with and play
the European-Soviet open-skating style might accomplish the unthinkable.
Subsequently, rather than looking for superstar skill sets from
his players, Brooks looked for kids that could adapt to new roles,
and learn to polish those new-fangled skills quickly. Brooks knew
that to beat the best at their own game would involve substantial
amounts of mental toughness, and superb conditioning to boot. That
involved taking these players to a much higher level of competition
than they were used to, and that was where Herb Brooks was at his
best.
Before
I am charged with any Herb Brooks-worshipping, do sports fans and
non-sports fans alike understand how impracticable this aspiration
for a gold medal was? That is, to assemble a team of mostly 21-year-old,
college rag-tags, practice for a mere 78 months, and defeat
the mighty Soviets, a seasoned team of veterans who played together,
every day, all year long, for close to ten years. This State-sponsored,
Soviet team, with the nearly unbeatable Vladislav
Tretiak in goal, was the top sports organization in the world
at that time, having won the
Olympic hockey gold medals in 64, 68, 72, and 76.
Upon
viewing the movie, I wondered, does Disney know what kind of movie
they made? Do they have any clue as to what kind of message they
sent? My gut feeling is that the film wouldn’t have been made in
its current format if Herb Brooks had not had some sense of control
over the movie’s direction and subject matter. Sadly, Herb Brooks
died
in August of 2003, in a car accident, and I understand this
was right after they wrapped up shooting the film’s photography.
All
in all, I was delighted to see that the movie was not made up of
a hodgepodge of rah-rah, pseudo-patriotic features strung together,
but instead, the end product was about Herb Brooks and his hockey
genius, and his methodology for accomplishing a goal that was considered
to be nearly unattainable in his time.
The
Plastic Patriots, though, have been quite
dissatisfied with the movie, because it was not political enough
in a pro-Cold War sense, nor was Brooks portrayed as the ultimate,
flag-waving "patriot." That’s because the movie’s central
focus was on one man, an individualist, and how he did his job,
and how he obtained voluntary cooperation from an assemblage of
young men that came to respect his ethic, and share his principles
for one of humankind’s fundamental glories: winning. And beating
the best, whoever the best happened to be. And nowhere is that mindset
more prevalent than in a rugged American nonconformist like Herb
Brooks.
Announcer
Al Michaels, in one of the most recognized calls in all of sports
broadcasting history, exclaimed to his audience during the last
seconds of the game: "Do you believe in miracles? Yes!!"
The other miracle is that in this day and age of acute political
correctness, equality before winning, sharing before personal glory,
and fairness before leadership, this movie was even made at all,
let alone by a studio as equalitarian as Disney.
March
3, 2004
Karen
De Coster, CPA, [send
her mail] is a libertarian freelance writer, graduate student
in Austrian Economics, and a business professional from Michigan.
Her first book is still in the works. See her Mises
Institute archive for more online articles, and check out her
website, along with her
blog.
Copyright © 2004 Karen De Coster
Karen
De Coster Archives
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