February 12th, 1980, Lake Placid. Team USA was playing Sweden. Jack had been out with a stretched ligament, but Rob McClanahan had just gotten pulled out for a contusion on his right thigh by Doc. After the second period ended, the team sat silently in the locker room. The score was 2-1, Sweden was winning, and their hesd coach, Herb Brooks, was not happy about it.

He stormed into the locker room, glaring at all of them. "This is unbelievable.. You guys are playing like this is some throwaway game up in Rochester!" He exclaimed angrily, pausing in the middle of the room with his hands on his hips, looking to one of the players, Mike Ramsey. "Who we playin' Rammer?"

".. Sweden."

"Yea, you're damn right Sweden—" Herb yelled, flipping the table that had the water jug and cups. "In the Olympics!" He finished his sentence, clenching his jaw as he paced again. He then looked to Rob McClanahan, who was sitting with his gear off, icing his leg. "The hell's wrong with you? Put your gear on." Herb stated. "I said put your gear on!" He stated again. Rob's brows furrowed, feeling confused while still in pain. "Doc told me I can't play—" "Yea yea I know, you got a bad bruise." Herb cut him off, downplaying Mac's injury. Then, he paused, pointing to Rob. "You know what? Put your street clothes on, 'cause I got no time for quitters." He snapped. Mike Eruzione was quick to defend him.

"Come on Herb! Nobody's quittin' here.." He retorted back to Herb, but he just got a backhanded reply back. "You worry 'bout your own game. Plenty there to keep you busy." Herb's voice lowered as he paced again, hands on his hips.

"Bruise on the leg is a hell of a long way from the heart.. candy ass." He muttered the last part under his breath, which made Mac snap. "What'd you call me?" Mac retorted. They yelled a bit more before Herb left. "That'll get him goin'."

Jack watched in shock as Herb left Mac feeling livid, throwing his gear on for the 3rd period. He knew Herb was riling Mac up so he would play, but that felt like a lot.