When a team of amateur and collegiate American ice hockey players took to the ice against the repeated Olympic champions of the USSR at the 1980 Winter Olympics, few gave them much hope. What was to happen, at the height of the Cold War, would go down as one of the greatest moments in the history of US sport.

"Eleven seconds, you've got ten seconds left. The countdown's going on right now!" exclaimed ABC commentator Al Michaels. As a capacity crowd roared out the descending numbers on the clock in the medal round match, four American players in turn were smashed against the wall behind their goal by their Soviet opponents. At the last second before each challenge, though, each USA player managed to move the puck on to his teammate, before 22-year-old defender Ken Morrow cleared it from the back to Dave Silk. “Morrow, up to Silk," continued Michaels, his rising voice a measure of both his own excitement and the need to be heard over a partisan and passionate crowd that had watched their team defend a one-goal lead for ten minutes. By now, Michaels was shouting over the countdown. "Five seconds left in the game. Do you believe in miracles? Yes!"

What would become known as the Miracle on Ice had seemed an impossible dream just two weeks earlier. Then, in a Madison Square Garden warm-up match for the 1980 Lake Placid Winter Olympics, the USSR had demolished their hosts, cruising to a convincing 10-3 victory. There was no disgrace in the scoreline for the young American side; the USSR had won four Olympic gold medals on the trot, and every gold but one – a shock American victory in 1960 – since 1956. Nothing suggested that 1980 would be any different.

'Unless the ice melts, or unless the United States team or another team performs a miracle, as did the American squad in 1960, the Russians are expected to easily win the Olympic gold medal for the sixth time in the last seven tournaments,' opined Dave Anderson in the New 4 aside, the USSR's record was awe-inspiring. The team had dominated the 1979 world championship, and had beaten the NHL All-Stars 6-0 in the same year.

And the Soviet team was far from the only side standing between the USA and the unlikeliest of gold medals as the competition began. The 12 competing countries were split into two divisions - Red and Blue - with the top two from each qualifying for the medal round. Sweden and Czechoslovakia, two powerhouses of the sport, were the most fearsome names in the USA's Blue Division, and widely expected to go through. Even if the USA could manage to escape the group, they would enter a medal round which could include the likes of Canada - whose players dominated the National Hockey League - Finland and, of course, the USSR. Talk of a miracle may sound clichéd but, at the time, Andrews' opinion was almost universal.

Herb Brooks, the US coach, had already identified that his team could not compete with their European rivals in terms of skill or technique so, instead, focused on speed, conditioning and discipline. And psychology. "He messed with our minds at every opportunity," said Mike Ramsey, the 19-year-old defender who would go on to play more than 1,000 NHL games. Mike Eruzione, the US captain, insisted years later: "If Herb came into my house today, it would still be uncomfortable."

Brooks had kept the majority of his team together since the world championship a year before, drilling them into the best shape they could be, both physically and mentally. Still, all his efforts appeared to have come to nothing with the Madison Square Garden demolition. And, while the score may not have been as embarrassing, the USA's first game of the Olympics appeared destined to end in the same inevitable defeat. As the game neared its conclusion, the Americans found themselves trailing 2-1 to a Sweden team out to prove its worth after securing the bronze medal in the 1979 world championship, and pushing hard for a third goal. Brooks, with nothing to lose, pulled his goaltender, sending on another attacker. With 30 seconds left, Bill Baker scored to tie the match, earning a point for the USA. It was the only group stage match that Sweden would not win.

On the same day that the USA secured their late point, Czechoslovakia, the 1976 and 1968 silver medallists, were putting down their own marker. The Czechoslovaks had also won bronze medals in 1964 and 1972, meaning it was 20 years since they had finished an Olympic Games off the podium. They were determined to once again be the USSR's main challengers, and started in fine style, crushing Norway 11-0 in what would be the Blue Division's most comprehensive win. It was an ominous result for a US team set to face Czechoslovakia two days later.

On paper, the match looked likely to be a resounding win for the European team. On ice, it turned out to be a very different story. As Sweden bounced back from their opening-game setback with an 8-0 defeat of Romania, the USA stunned Czechoslovakia and the entire Eastern Bloc with a 7-3 win. Comfortable victories over Norway and Romania left Brooks' men tied with Sweden on seven points after four games, and aware that a win over West Germany would guarantee them a place in the medal round. Despite trailing their German opponents, the team duly delivered the result, winning 4-2. They qualified for the medal round in second place behind Sweden, who topped the group after beating Czechoslovakia by the same score. The Czechoslovaks, despite scoring 34 goals in five games, were out of the competition. The US dream was underway.

If the Blue Division had gone like a dream for the USA, the Red Division had been a nightmare for the USSR's opponents. The Soviets opened the competition with an astonishing 16-0 victory over Japan and never looked back, qualifying for the medal round top of the group and without dropping a single point.

As well as being a psychological boost – one barely needed by the Soviet machine – the results gave the USSR a competitive advantage. The four-team medal round saw the top two teams from each division face both qualifiers from the other, with the results from clashes in their own divisions carrying over. That meant the USSR started the medal round with two points by virtue of their group stage win over Finland, who qualified second from the Red Division. The USA and Sweden, who had drawn in the memorable opening match, started with one point each.

On February 22nd, the medal round began. Finland and Sweden played out a frantic 3-3 draw. But in America, where the Cold War had endured for more than three decades and where every defeat to the USSR was seen as a propaganda coup for the country’s communist regime, all eyes were on the day's other match up.

Two opposing teams can rarely have prepared for one match in such different ways. Viktor Tikhonov, the Soviet coach, encouraged his players to rest, confident that they were at the top of their game. Instead of training on the ice, they studied plays, planning what Tikhonov assumed would be textbook wins over the USA and, with more difficulty, Sweden. Though the game with the USA was as hot a political issue for the Soviets as for their American opponents, the Sweden game was seen as the must-win clash.

Tikhonov certainly had the pedigree to have confidence in his own decisions. An accomplished and decorated player himself, the 49-year-old had been coaching since 1964 with Dynamo Moscow, Dynamo Riga, CSKA Moscow and the national team. He had recorded two world championship victories in two attempts. And, the build-up to the clash with the USA aside, he was even more dictatorial than Brooks, keeping his players in a virtually constant training camp for up to 11 months every year. CSKA won 13 Soviet titles in a row under his vice-like grip. "Tikhonov was compelled to control all aspects of his players' lives," wrote John Sanful in Russian Revolution: Exodus to the NHL. "They ate, slept and trained on his orders. Tikhonov turned hockey into a prison-like atmosphere."