When Belief Became Gold

Hockey Ambassador Lee Elias coached the Puerto Rico women’s national hockey team to a gold medal in thrilling fashion. Here is his account.

We are down three goals with three minutes left in the Gold Medal game. In front of me, a capacity crowd—mostly fans of our opponent—is in a frenzy at the imminent result. To my right, three of our players who haven’t seen a shift all game are matching that volume, shouting support to their teammates searching for any answer. Everyone is exhausted—our sixth game in six days—but no one has slowed down.

Instinct takes over and we find a way to score. 5–3. Moments later, we’re awarded a penalty shot. 5–4. Then another. 5–5. Tie game with one minute to go.

There is no panic—only focus and belief. With forty-five seconds left, we score again. In the final seconds, our opponents tie it.

Sudden-death overtime in a championship game. The stuff of dreams.

I look into the eyes of my players and they look into mine. We are ready. We’ve earned this.

Twenty-three seconds later, we score—and glory finds us. Time slows as I watch our players rush into a champion’s embrace. Miraculous is the only word that comes to mind.

Then the medals. One by one, placed around the necks of my players—my family—as our anthem fills the arena. They receive them individually, yet we receive them together. The feeling is indescribable.

As the trophy is handed to our captain, I step back and watch the group surround each other in pure unity, my mind recording the image for eternity.

Gold medalists. Champions. Trailblazers. Team.

I look to the players (hugging), their families (crying), the staff and organizers (smiling), the fans (applauding), and our opponents (grieving). I feel gratitude for all of them.

After the game, the news begins to spread—first to our families, then to our nation. “Puerto Rico Ice Hockey Wins Gold!” the headlines say in English and Spanish. The gravity of what has been accomplished begins to sink in.

The next day, before boarding home, we laugh as our bags are flagged for having gold medals inside. Then it hits us: this may be the last time we are all together. We hug, part ways, and return to our lives. Bittersweet—but that is the life of a champion.

The trophies may fade, but the moment will live forever.