Having been in the coaching business for eighteen years, I have a keen sense of when a player on the bench starts to turn his head to let you know that he really wants to be out there. He doesn't say anything, but it's clear he's looking for the opportunity to be used in that pressure situation. I think Eric's one of those few people who want to be out there, be it success or failure, to make it happen. You have to have a feel for that. There are certain athletes who are ready to do that for a team.

It's like Reggie Jackson going to the plate with the score tied 2-2 in the bottom of the ninth. He thinks, "This is my chance to shine." As coaches or managers, you put your best pitcher on the mound, your best hitter up to bat. What's going to happen? Is the hitter going to make contact and knock it out of the park? Or is the pitcher going to strike him out? I think Eric senses the moment when it's necessary to produce. Then he comes up with the big play, because he is what he is.

When I was putting the team together, he had a very strong curiosity from the beginning as to whether he was going to be given that role. He wanted to know, "Am I going to be on the ice at critical moments?" You know you're going to use him in that situation because he's a player who give you the feeling that you can win anything. He was focused and wanted to win right from the first August training camp. He wanted to make a contribution to a gold-medal-winning team that maybe he felt he hadn't made the year before. And he didn't want to fail. In the summer practices, a lot of guys go out on the ice and just want to have fun, and think that they're automatic choices. He wasn't one of those guys.

When we got to Saskatoon, we were counting on him heavily. Instead of being just a player, he was going to be the player. As a result, there was a lot of weight on his shoulders from the public and the media. Most people don't watch and wait for success; they watch and wait for failure. When it comes to Eric people are so quick to say, "Oh this guy's not as good as everyone says he is." I still go out on the street today and people will say to me, "Well, he's not that good. I watched him. He looks kind of lazy out there." I think the nature of our mentality is to look for someone to fail to live up to the expectations that the press has created.

My concern in Saskatoon was that I didn't want to burn him out. It was important that he have the strength and power necessary for the final game. As a coach, you have to hold a player back at times, you have to make sure he has something in reserve down the stretch. It's the same as a jockey rating a racehorse for a mile-and-a-half race. The one that gets out of the gate first and jumps into the lead is not always the one that finishes first. There was no question that Eric was our biggest and strongest and most adaptable player, best able to handle the situations that we were involved in. That's the reason I have him the nod to hop over the bench when the game was on the line against the Soviets. He probably played four of the last five minutes and took all the face-offs. In that situation, you want your best out there.

* * *

Craiger's one of those ride-the-wave dudes. Alain Vigneault, our assistant coach, would check on Pierre Sevigny.

I thrive on playing in the crucial moments of a game. I like to be in the thick of things. Even when I'm not at 100 percent, I just feel I can do more than the next person in that situation. It's that desire, a matter of wanting it so badly. You've got to think no one wants it more than you. I've always felt that way.

When I was a ten-year-old kid playing atom hockey with the Toronto Marlboros, I would tug on the sleeve of my coach's jacket during the big games and say, "C'mon, let me out there." It's the same thing I did with Dick Todd, or my Oshawa coach, Rick Cornacchia, except that I can't tug on their jackets. I give them a look that lets them know I want to be out there. I'm not a spectator, I'm not a benchwarmer, I'm a player. I like the heat. I like stress. I love it when the stands go nuts.
Everyone's yelling and screaming. It's a combination of things. It's just anxiety, fear, confusion, and it's fun. The fun part is knowing that you're going to come out on top. I always think that way: what's the point of going into a stressful situation with second thoughts? You've always got to go in positive.

Playing against the Soviets in the dying minutes of the game was serious heat-it was a downright scorcher. I took five draws in our own end. I won the first three draws, then lost one. I was so upset with myself for losing the draw that I didn't take out their centerman. He went for the net. They tried to get a shot on net. There was a mad scramble. Just lay lumber on anything and anyone. Here we go!

I kept looking at the clock. You could see all the players peeking up at the scoreboard. The last few minutes seemed like an eternity. It was heat, but it was fun. I'm thinking, "This is your association for the rest of your life. You are on Canada's gold-medal-winning team for 1991. I was a member of the team that won the year before. You're something in Canadian history." That's what it's all about. We've got to win.

Finally the last few seconds were ticking away. I had a countdown of my own in my head, but it had nothing to do with numbers. H-I-S-T-O-R-Y

As soon as the game ended, Brad May and I grabbed each other in a bear hug like we were never going to let go and toppled to the ice. We were screaming, "We're the best! We're the best!" Brad was the piece of the puzzle that made the team work. He would get out there twice or three times a game and hit anything that had a heartbeat. He was a team player all the way.

We went back to congratulate Trevor Kidd. He had played such a great game. The press had put his neck out so far and were trying to chop his head off, but he showed what he was made of in that final game. Kidder just said, "Thanks." That one-syllable word meant so much.

Dick Todd came up as I was sitting there on the ice.

It was a wonderful feeling, but the most overwhelming emotion was probably relief. The pressure that had been placed on us was really incredible. It would have been such a disappointment to everyone if we had lost. The reason the gold medal was our was that we were united as a team.

I remember being at the news conference afterwards with Dick Todd, Pavel Bure and the Soviet coach. Pavel was crying. The press tried to make the tournament into a big competition between me and Pavel. I wasn't into that; it was something I didn't need. It was our team against their team. I'm not a single goal-medal player. It's not like tennis - this is a team competition. Pavel scored a pile of goals, and he's a very good player, but he and his coach fought the whole time. We hung together as a team and supported each other. That's the best part about team sport. Even when things got tough, we didn't start pointing fingers. It was controlled emotion. We didn't get too feisty, but people knew: you mess with one, you mess with us all. We won because we stuck together.

***End of chapter 8***