Culture
Inside the women’s hockey powerhouse led by ‘Miracle on Ice’ legend Mark Johnson
MADISON, Wis. — Three hours before the Wisconsin Badgers were set to practice on a Tuesday afternoon in late January, the best coach in the history of women’s college hockey was telling a story about a deer.
“I’d like to get in the mindset of a deer,” Mark Johnson said during a coaches meeting inside the team offices at LaBahn Arena.
He talked for several minutes, trying to empathize with the deer that had jumped in front of his car — and then ran off — while Johnson was driving home from the rink a few days prior. He couldn’t quite figure out why the deer did what it did.
Johnson, 67, is always trying to see things from another perspective, whether it’s a deer on the road or the people around him.
“We’ve got these hockey players and we’re trying to figure them out,” he said.
That goal — trying to understand his players’ mindset — never leaves the foreground for Johnson and his coaching staff.
On that Tuesday, coming off a 2-2 tie against St. Cloud State — one of only three games the Badgers failed to win in regulation all season — Johnson decided not to break down video with the team. “Look ahead,” he urged them. The coaching staff planned drills with their next opponent, the University of Minnesota Duluth, in mind. And knowing it had been a long season with the most important hockey still to come, Johnson said the team would play several mini-games to end practice on a fun — yet competitive — note.
“He wants to make (practice) the best part of their day,” said Dan Koch, an associate coach at the University of Wisconsin. “If coming to the rink feels like work, or they’re getting bored, we’re not going to get anything out of it. … He has a great feel for (what the players need).”
It’s just one of the trademarks of a coach who has built one of the greatest women’s hockey programs the sport has ever seen.
In 22 years as head coach of the Badgers, Johnson has become the winningest coach in NCAA Division I women’s hockey history and the only coach to eclipse 600 wins. No program has won more than Wisconsin’s seven national championships, all celebrated with Johnson behind the bench.
And this year’s roster is one of the deepest and most skilled in the program’s history, with four players nominated for the 2025 Patty Kazmaier Award, given to the best women’s hockey player in the nation. The Badgers lost only one game in regulation this season — against the reigning champion Ohio State Buckeyes — and are coming off another WCHA conference title with a 4-3 win over the Minnesota Golden Gophers.
Now, the Badgers enter the NCAA Tournament, which begins on Thursday afternoon, as the No. 1 team in the nation — and the favorite to win another national title. Can they deliver on expectations?
The program’s rise to dominance begins with Johnson.
The son of legendary coach “Badger Bob” Johnson — who built the Wisconsin men’s hockey program and led the Pittsburgh Penguins to their first Stanley Cup — Mark grew up in Madison and is one of the all-time greatest players to ever suit up for the Badgers.
He’s well known for winning a gold medal at the 1980 Olympics and scoring two goals in the “Miracle on Ice” semifinal game against the Soviet Union. He went on to play 11 seasons in the NHL before retiring in 1992. By 1996, after a few high school coaching stints, Johnson was back in Madison as an assistant coach for the Badgers.
After six years, the head coaching job opened up. Johnson applied, but the job went to one of his former teammates, Mike Eaves, instead. Johnson had a decision to make: He could continue as an assistant for one of his friends, or he could return to the NHL to work as an assistant in the top professional league.
“I had kids at the time, and had been traded a few times in the NHL,” he said. “I didn’t want to go back to that lifestyle if I had a choice.”
As it turned out, there was an opening for the upstart Wisconsin women’s hockey program that had just played its first season in 1999. At the time, the job was considered something of a risk. If Johnson left the men’s game, would he be able to cross back over?
Johnson’s desire to keep his family in Madison and run his own program won out; he was named head coach of the women’s hockey team ahead of the 2002-03 season.
“It was this leap of faith,” he said. “Like, I’m going to take this jump and I don’t know where I’m going to land.”
At an introductory news conference, Johnson laid out his vision for the program and promised to provide stability for a team that had gone through two coaches in its first three seasons. Skeptics didn’t believe that a legendary men’s player would stick in the women’s game; they assumed Johnson would jump at the first job at a men’s program or an NHL team.
Only a few months into the job, Colorado Avalanche coach Tony Granato offered Johnson a position as an assistant, which he declined. There have been other opportunities over the years, too, but since 2002, Johnson has been all in.
Over the first few years, Johnson mostly laid the foundation of the program. He established a team-first culture and a strong, relatively simple on-ice identity.
“He’s a teacher of the game,” said Koch. “He’s somebody that feels if you can skate, pass, shoot, stick handle better than the other team, your percentages of winning are going to go up.”
Laila Edwards, who became the first Black woman to play for the U.S. women’s national team at a world championship in April 2024, said head coach Mark Johnson is “hands off, but not too hands off to a point where we’re a mess.” (Ashley Landis / AP Photo)
Johnson continued recruiting and developing the talent he had inherited, such as future Canadian Olympic defender Carla MacLeod, U.S. Olympian Molly Engstrom and Meghan Hunter, who is now an assistant GM of the Chicago Blackhawks. He also challenged the school’s administration to move the team from a community rink in the suburbs to the Kohl Center — home of the men’s hockey team — until LaBahn Arena opened in 2012.
“He just came in and provided stability,” said assistant coach Jackie Crum. “You had this startup program and this legendary Badger came in, everyone respected him, he knows hockey, and his style of coaching just fits for a female hockey player.
“He’s not a yeller, he’s not a screamer. He’s not a swearer. He’s not berating. You watch those inside the NHL documentaries and they’re all ‘bleeps’ and ‘bleeps’ and that’s not him. Nor do I think that would work for 18- to 22-year-old females.”
The Badgers made their first NCAA tournament appearance in Johnson’s third season (2004-05), and won back-to-back national titles in 2006 and 2007 — the first DI program not in the state of Minnesota to win an NCAA women’s hockey championship.
Wisconsin quickly became a destination for elite hockey players, including future Hockey Hall of Fame inductees Meghan Duggan, Hilary Knight and Brianna Decker, who all won championships with the Badgers. It helps the Badgers that so many influential alumni have passed through the halls. Young players who look up to Knight or Duggan might want to chart the same path that leads through Madison.
But if you ask the players, it all goes back to the head coach.
“(Mark has) built that program to where it is,” said Knight. “It’s a dynasty.”
If you get to a Badgers women’s hockey game an hour before puck drop, you’re already late. At least if you want one of the best seats in the house.
At LaBahn — with general admission seating — the die-hard fans arrive hours in advance to secure their favorite spot.
“Sometimes they get here before I do,” said Edwards.
After games, when players go to see their friends or family, they’ll mingle with the fans who are waiting in the concourse.
“It’s the most special thing,” said captain Casey O’Brien. “It gives you something more to play for. You want to do well for them because they invest so much in us and we kind of want to pay it back.”
The Badgers have averaged the top attendance in NCAA women’s hockey this season with around 3,500 fans per game — including a massively attended double-header with the men’s team at Wrigley Field in January. Outside of the University of Minnesota, no other program’s fan base is close.
Wisconsin has hosted the six most-attended women’s college hockey games ever, including a record 15,359 at a “Fill the Bowl” game hosted at the Kohl Center in 2017.
The fan base is just one part of the Wisconsin experience. The $34 million LaBahn Arena was built to provide professional-level facilities for its sports teams. And when it was built in 2012, it was only the second women’s hockey specific rink built in the country after Ridder Arena in Minnesota.
The Wisconsin women’s hockey facility has a big locker room, training facilities, therapy pools — hot tub, cold tub and sauna — and a team lounge, which serves as a central spot for players to hang out between class and practices. Lately, the team has gotten into watching “Deal or No Deal.”
“I don’t know why, but game shows are always on,” said O’Brien. “And we get way too into it.”
At Wisconsin, the resources match what can be expected for a Big Ten sports school that has a self-sufficient athletic department, which means it funds its operation through its own revenue rather than relying on university money. This season, the athletics budget was set at over $170 million, a record high for the department.
LaBahn is adjacent to the Kohl Center, which recently underwent around $48 million in renovations. The two buildings are connected through a series of hallways, which give players direct access to more shared facilities with the men’s hockey, basketball and volleyball teams, such as study rooms, cafeterias and a brand-new 10,000 square-foot gym.
“The facilities are second to none here,” said defender Caroline Harvey.
And then there’s the appeal of playing for a highly decorated coach whose style extends beyond his even-tempered demeanor. Wisconsin does well to recruit elite players, and Johnson allows them to shine on the ice.
“He’s hands off, but not too hands off to a point where we’re a mess,” said Edwards. “His job, as he’s taken it on, is giving us the systems, trust and confidence and just letting us go out and play.”
The top team in the land.
The #Badgers are the No. 1 seed in the @NCAAIceHockey Women’s Tournament! pic.twitter.com/b2MbLgWL3Q
— Wisconsin Hockey (@BadgerWHockey) March 9, 2025
That coaching style has worked well for the 2024-25 Badgers roster that is full of talent up and down the lineup.
“It plays a lot into our playing style,” said Harvey. “If he was more rigid, we’d probably be holding our sticks too tight. … You’re able to expand and grow and try new things here, and you’re not punished for that or any (mistakes).”
Naturally, none of the 2024-25 Badgers were alive when Johnson was scoring big goals on the international stage. But it helps that his players know Johnson has “been there and done that” at every level. That Crum was in their shoes, playing for Johnson’s Badgers, helps players too, giving them an older sister figure who knows exactly what they’re going through. Not to mention, the trio of Crum, Koch and Johnson are in their 15th year coaching the program together.
“Everything that happens with the team, we’ve been there, we’ve done it,” said Crum. “We’ve been around the block. I know where they go on a Friday night because I was there once too.”
Edwards and Harvey were freshmen the first time they experienced winning at Wisconsin in 2023. Last season, the Badgers lost 1-0 to Ohio State in the championship game.
“We want to win it all,” said Harvey, now a junior. “We don’t want to be in the same position we were last year.”
The 2024-25 Badgers are the tournament favorites. They are four lines deep, with great defenders and solid goaltending. Five players have been named to the U.S. national team for the upcoming women’s world championships. And on Wednesday, three players (O’Brien, Harvey and Edwards) were announced as the finalists for the Patty Kazmaier.
Mark Johnson, famous for his role in the “Miracle on Ice,” could win his eighth national championship with the Badgers this month. Last year, Wisconsin lost to the Ohio State Buckeyes 1-0 in the championship game. (Mark Stewart / Milwaukee Journal Sentinel / USA Today Network)
O’Brien, Edwards, Kirsten Simms and Harvey are four of the top five scorers in the NCAA. The last time the Badgers dominated the rankings like this was the 2010-11 national championship team with Duggan, Decker and Knight going 1-2-3 in scoring.
Still, Knight calls this current roster a “super team.” And coaches will agree.
“Going off of the skill, it’s probably the deepest we’ve ever been,” said Crum.
O’Brien in particular is putting together a masterful season in her final year on campus. She has scored a nation-leading 83 points in only 38 games and is the favorite to win the Patty Kazmaier Award. Last week, she had three points in the conference championship and was named player of the tournament. She also became the all-time leading scorer in Badgers hockey history (men’s or women’s) with her 269 career points.
“She’s been good for us for a long time,” said Johnson after the WCHA Final, calling her “the best player in college hockey this year by far.”
With so much talent, the expectation for the Badgers, like most years, is to win. But Ohio State is ranked No. 2 and is building its own dynasty under head coach Nadine Muzerall, who has won two national titles in the last three years. No. 4-ranked Minnesota will have home-ice advantage as tournament host.
Some veterans on this year’s Badgers, such as Edwards and Harvey, have experienced the highs and lows of winning and losing in the final game. Others, such as O’Brien, are trying to win a third championship. And sophomores, such as Cassie Hall or Kelly Gorbatenko, will try to erase the sting of a loss.
“They’re on a mission,” said Johnson.
If the team wins, it will be Johnson’s eighth national championship and his fourth in six seasons. He said he’s still motivated by the challenge of building and coaching winning rosters, especially this year.
“The team is talented, it’s deep, but how do you keep them hungry? How do you keep them motivated?” he wondered. “Those types of challenges are why I get up and enjoy coming to the rink.”
There will come a time when Johnson won’t be at the rink to run a practice or stand behind the bench. He doesn’t know exactly when he’ll retire, but he has been considering what the next chapter of his life might look like.
Johnson and his wife, Leslie, are planning to open a therapeutic horse ranch in Verona, a suburb of Madison. The couple, who have been married for over 40 years, hope it can be a place of healing for children and families.
For now though, Johnson’s focus is on the path to winning another national championship. As the No. 1 seed, the Badgers won’t play on the opening day of the tournament on Thursday, but will await their Saturday afternoon opponent for the regional final.
With a win — against the winner of Clarkson vs. Boston University — the Badgers will head to their third straight Frozen Four, which begins March 21 in Minneapolis.
“We definitely have the group to win,” said Edwards. “But it doesn’t mean we’re going to. There’s still work to be done.”
(Illustration: Dan Goldfarb / The Athletic; Gil Talbot / NCAA Photos / Getty, Dave Kallmann / Milwaukee Journal Sentinel / USA Today Network via Imagn Images)
PERMANENCE, by Sophie Mackintosh
Sophie Mackintosh’s novels are always speculative in some way, with either the author or her characters forging a world governed by its own logic and rules. In their boldness and their ability to convey the violence of patriarchy, they recall the work of Jacqueline Harpman — not only the cherished “I Who Have Never Known Men,” but also “Orlanda,” her wild riff on Virginia Woolf’s “Orlando.”
Like Harpman, Mackintosh has a spare and confident hand. Her work is sometimes described as dreamlike; certainly, its contours are sketched with rapidity and confidence and relatively little detail. Her prose operates according to the same principle, at once lyrical and precise, like this from her second novel, “Blue Ticket”: “On the ground was a dead rabbit, disemboweled. Still fresh, the dark loops of its insides glistening like jam.”
When Mackintosh writes about masculine power, she does so in a way that articulates both its seductions and its terrors. Her newest novel, “Permanence,” is less explicitly concerned with the structure of patriarchy, but it has the same erotic charge as her earlier work, the same preoccupation with social prohibitions and the thrill that comes from breaking them.
Like “Blue Ticket,” “Permanence” turns on a highly pronounced binary. In “Blue Ticket,” adolescent girls are issued either a blue or white ticket on the day of their first period. A white ticket denotes a future of marriage and children, a blue ticket one of work — even, it seems, a career. The divide is stark and self-evidently faulty, its coarseness an expression of the brutalizing regime the characters are trapped in.
“Permanence” features a similar opposition, neatly delineated. Clara and Francis are conducting an illicit affair. One morning, they wake up in an alternate reality where they are openly living together. The novel shuttles between these two worlds, one ordinary and familiar, the other a curdled paradise for adulterers.
The thinness of this “city of impermanence” — “fluid, cohesive and yet disparate” — emerges at once. The sky is “uncannily blue,” the newspaper bears no date, the edge of the city is marked by “a slick ring of water, as far as the eye could see.”
Still, a boundary cannot keep the other world from seeping in. Initially, elegantly, this is a problem in the structure of desire. Having been provided the life they dreamed of, in which their longing for each other is fully met, Clara and Francis begin to experience, to their uneasy surprise, boredom and discontent.
Without absence, the intensity of their desire for each other wanes. They even begin, or at least Francis does, to long for the relief of their ordinary life: “Another day ahead of them of petting, giggling, lying around. It seemed insubstantial suddenly, though only the day before he had felt he could do it forever.”
Soon enough, it becomes clear that the problem between Francis and Clara doesn’t lie in the outside impediments of the world they live in, but in their relationship itself. Francis remains troublingly himself — a married father of a small child, reluctant to leave his family, however much he is in love with Clara: “He did love her, and he did want to be with her. … But he already had reality elsewhere, reality which he sometimes felt trapped by, he would admit, but which he could not truly imagine cutting loose.”
“Permanence” might seem like an outlier in the current array of articles and books about open marriages and polyamory, and at first glance the line of distinction between the two worlds, much like the division between blue and white tickets, seems almost old-fashioned. But as Mackintosh persuasively illustrates, the familiar emotions of jealousy, infatuation and eventually indifference — these persist and can flourish in any relationship, however free of prohibition.
“You want this,” Clara tells herself, and then, “You no longer want this,” as it occurs to her that “maybe it was in absence that they loved each other best, and most honestly.”
In her work, Mackintosh devises scenarios that are bold and almost aggressively simplified. But her terrain is complexity and contradiction, and in her hands these oppositions twist and turn in on themselves.
It’s hardly a surprise when the central character in “Blue Ticket” decides to eschew her designation and have a child, declaring, “True and false were no longer opposing binaries. My body was speaking to me in a language I had not heard before.” Nor is it especially startling when discontent chases Clara and Francis from one world to the other, unraveling their relationship.
What is more disquieting is the surreptitious ease with which Mackintosh’s speculative worlds start to align with our own, allowing the reader to see how so many of the old prohibitions and conventions — around choice, around marriage — remain, somehow, firmly in place.
That moment of recognition, in a landscape that is startlingly alien, is the source of Mackintosh’s power as a writer.
PERMANENCE | By Sophie Mackintosh | Avid Reader Press | 240 pp. | $28
Maybe you woke up this morning haunted by the first four lines of W.H. Auden’s “The More Loving One” — or tickled by its tongue-in-cheek handling of existential dread. (Not ringing any bells? Click here to begin the Poetry Challenge).
This is a love poem. Perhaps that seems like an obvious thing to say about a poem with “Loving” in its title, but there isn’t much romance in the opening stanza.
Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
But on earth indifference is the least
We have to dread from man or beast.
Ada Limón, poet
Nonetheless, the poem soon makes clear that love is very much on its mind.
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
David Sedaris, writer
The polished informality gives the impression of a decidedly cerebral speaker — someone who’s looking at love philosophically, thinking about how it works and what it means.
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Reginald Dwayne Betts, poet
Musing this way — arguing in this fashion — he stands in a long line of playful, thoughtful poetic lovers going back at least to the 16th century. He sounds a bit like Christopher Marlowe’s passionate shepherd:
Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
Auden’s poem, like Marlowe’s, is written in four-beat lines:
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Josh Radnor, actor
And it features strong end rhymes:
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Samantha Harvey, writer
These tetrameter couplets represent a long-established poetic love language. Not too serious or sappy, but with room for both earnestness and whimsy. And even for professions of the opposite of love, as in this nursery rhyme, adapted from a 17th-century epigram:
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell
The reason why I cannot tell.
But this I know and know full well
I do not like thee, Doctor Fell.
There is some of this anti-love spirit in Auden’s poem too, but it mainly follows a general rule of love poetry: The person speaking is usually the more loving one.
This makes sense. To write a poem requires effort, art, inspiration. To speak in verse is to tease, to cajole, to seduce, all actions that suggest an excess of desire. That’s why it’s conventional to refer to the “I” in a poem like this as the Lover and the “you” as the Beloved. The line “Let the more loving one be me” could summarize a lot of the love poetry of the last few thousand years.
But who, in this case, is the beloved? This isn’t a poem to the stars, but about them. Or maybe a poem that uses the stars as a conceit and our complicated feelings about them as a screen for other difficult emotions.
What the stars have to do with love is a tricky question. The answer may just be that the poem assumes a relationship and then plays with the implications of its assumption.
This kind of play also has a long history. Since love is both abstract and susceptible to cliché, poets are eager to liken it to everything else under the sun: birds, bees, planets, stars, the movement of the tides and the cycle of the seasons. Andrew Marvell’s “Definition of Love,” from the 1600s, wraps its ardor in math:
As lines, so loves oblique may well
Themselves in every angle greet;
But ours so truly parallel,
Though infinite, can never meet.
The literary term for this is wit. The formidable 18th-century English wordsmith Samuel Johnson defined a type of wit as “a combination of dissimilar images, or discovery of occult resemblances in things apparently unlike.” “The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence together,” he wrote; that kind of conceptual discord defines “The More Loving One.”
The second stanza is, when you think about it, a perfect non sequitur. A hypothetical, general question is asked:
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Mary Roach, writer
The answer is a personal declaration that is moving because it doesn’t seem to apply only or primarily to stars:
If equal affection cannot be,
Let the more loving one be me.
Tim Egan, writer
Does this disjunction make it easier or harder to remember? Either way, these couplets start to reveal just how curious this poem is. We might find ourselves curious about who wrote them, and whom he might have loved. Tomorrow we’ll get to know Auden and his work a little better.
Play a game to learn it by heart. Need more practice? Listen to Ada Limón, Matthew McConaughey, W.H. Auden and others recite our poem.
Question 1/6
How should we like it were stars to burn
With a passion for us we could not return?
Tap a word above to fill in the highlighted blank.
Your task today: Learn the second stanza!
Let’s start with the first couplet in this stanza. Fill in the rhyming words.
Ready for another round? Try your hand at the 2025 Poetry Challenge.
Edited by Gregory Cowles, Alicia DeSantis and Nick Donofrio. Additional editing by Emily Eakin,
Joumana Khatib, Emma Lumeij and Miguel Salazar. Design and development by Umi Syam. Additional
game design by Eden Weingart. Video editing by Meg Felling. Photo editing by Erica Ackerberg.
Illustration art direction by Tala Safie.
Illustrations by Daniel Barreto.
Text and audio recording of “The More Loving One,” by W.H. Auden, copyright © by the Estate of
W.H. Auden. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. Photograph accompanying Auden recording
from Imagno/Getty Images.
Literature
Oedipa Maas from ‘The Crying of Lot 49’ (1966) by Thomas Pynchon
“The unforgettable, cartoonish protagonist of this unusually short novel is a California housewife accidentally turned private investigator and literary interpreter, and the mystery she’s attempting to solve — or, more specifically, the conspiracy she stumbles upon — is nothing less than capitalism itself,” says Ngai, 54. “As Oedipa traces connections between various crackpots, the novel highlights the peculiarly asocial sociality of postwar U.S. society, which gets figured as a network of alienations.”
Sula Peace from ‘Sula’ (1973) by Toni Morrison
“Sula arguably begins to disappear as soon as she’s introduced — despite the fact that the novel bears her name. Other characters die quickly, or are noticeably flat. This raises the politically charged question of who gets to ‘develop’ or be a protagonist in American novels and who doesn’t. The novel’s unusual character system is part of its meditation on anti-Black racism and historical violence.”
The speaker of ‘Lunch Poems’ (1964) by Frank O’Hara
“Lyric poems are fundamentally different from narrative fiction in part because they have speakers as opposed to narrators. Perhaps it’s a stretch to nominate the speaker of ‘Lunch Poems’ as a main character, but this book changed things by highlighting the centrality of queer counterpublics to U.S. culture as a whole, and by exploring the joys and risks of everyday intimacy with strangers therein.”
This interview has been edited and condensed.
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