11 Sports Underdogs Who Won Big

In the second half of the 20th century, the now-defunct Soviet Union was the dominant force in international ice hockey. Going into the 1980 Winter Olympics, held in upstate New York, the Soviets had won the last four consecutive gold medals, and five of the last six. The American ice hockey team of 1980 consisted of young players with next to no professional playing experience.

They were, however, coached by the formidable Herb Brooks, himself once an Olympic medalist in the 1960s as a player. He was known for his uncompromising approach and knew how to push the psychological buttons of his players to get the best from them. Such so-called Brookisms as telling the players they weren’t talented enough to win by talent alone had the desired effect.

The 1980 tournament was organized in two divisions - red and blue. The USSR predictably dominated the red division, inflicting particularly bruising defeats upon Japan (16-0) and the Netherlands (17-4) en route to a perfect 5-0 record. The US finished just behind Sweden in the blue division to move into the final round.

The first match of the final round pitted the US and USSR together. The game took place at a time when the US was going through significant problems at home and abroad. Expectations for Brooks’s charges were suitably low, and when the Soviet team opened the scoring early on, it seemed another tanking was on the cards. 

But the American team was made of sterner stuff and equalized twice, once right at the end of the first period to make 2-2. The Soviets dominated the game statistically, peppering the goal of Jim Craig with dozens of shots, but the American goaltender was in heroic form. With the Soviets leading 3-2 going into the final period, the Americans scored twice to take the lead with 10 minutes remaining.

Brooks kept rotating his lines to keep the team fresh as they survived one Soviet onslaught after another. The home crowd roared the team to the finish, counting down the final seconds to victory as ABC’s Al Michaels made the now immortal call:

Do you believe in miracles? YES!

The legend of the “Miracle on Ice” was born, which Sports Illustrated called the top sporting moment of the 20th century. What’s sometimes forgotten is that after such a monumental victory, the Americans had to hold it together for the last match against Finland. Had they lost that one, they’d have gone home empty-handed despite the heroics against the USSR. They won that last game after falling behind to claim gold and cap a remarkable underdog story.

Once one of the most hard-hitting heavyweight boxers of all time, George Foreman stepped away from the sport at the young age of 28 following a 1977 loss to Jimmy Young - and a religious epiphany. After a decade away from the ring, an out-of-shape Foreman announced an unlikely comeback in 1987. He made up for lost time with several fights and victories against low-caliber opponents until he was ready to step back up to the championship picture in 1991.

Never the quickest fighter even in his prime, the new Foreman brought wisdom and an economy of effort that allowed him to fight more efficiently than he had in his youth. The old power was still there, and only one opponent went the distance before his match with Evander Holyfield in 1991. He put on a credible performance but came up short against a much younger world-class opponent. His second tilt at a title came against Tommy Morrison two years later. Morrison fought an unusually conservative fight to defeat the now 44-year-old Foreman by decision. 

After two brave but unsuccessful attempts, it seemed dream of recapturing championship gold wouldn’t be realized. One final chance came in 1994 against the undefeated Michael Moorer, fresh off the back of a majority decision win over Holyfield. The odds were stacked against Foreman, who was just a few weeks shy of his 46th birthday. For 10 rounds the far younger Moorer had the measure of his opponent, but Big George refused to give up and waited for that one opening. 

It came in the 10th round. Foreman was a mile behind on the scorecards and seemingly headed for another decision loss. The combination that turned the fight was simplicity itself: a crisp jab broke Moorer’s guard and a right cross broke his mouthpiece in two as he slumped to the canvas. An overwhelmed Foreman looked upward and knelt in prayer in the corner as commentator Jim Lampley called: 

It happened! It happened!

Foreman fought on for two more years; his final bout was a deeply controversial decision loss to Shannon Briggs. At 48 years old, having reconquered the world, Foreman hung up his gloves for the last time, completing the most unlikely comeback story in the history of heavyweight boxing.

Mike Tyson was one of the most feared heavyweight boxers ever. Despite a relatively short stature (for a heavyweight), his excellent defense and furious punching power saw him rack up an impressive KO record at a young age. He blew past Trevor Berbick - the man who effectively retired the great Muhammad Ali - in just two rounds to claim the heavyweight championship before he was even 21 years old in 1986.

James “Buster” Douglas, on the other hand, was seen as more of an athlete than a fighter. He had the skills, but his true commitment to boxing was questionable. Under the harsh tutelage of his father Bill, a former boxer known for his uncompromising style, Douglas struggled when the pressure was on. 

In a bout with Tony Tucker in 1987, he was getting the better of his opponent but gassed badly and was stopped in the 10th. His father stepped away from coaching him in disgust, but this had a liberating effect on Douglas. He won his next six fights to set up a match with Tyson in Tokyo in 1990.

Tyson had little enthusiasm for the fight; already the cracks in his aura of invincibility were showing. The passing of his mentor Cus D’Amato in 1985 and business partner Jimmy Jacobs was followed by the dismissal of trainer Kevin Rooney on the orders of Don King in 1988. Without the men who protected Tyson from his self-destructive impulses, boxing began to take a back seat to the excesses of fame and wealth. In his own words, Tyson was more interested in womanizing and partying than fighting at that stage of his career.

Douglas was little more than a keep-busy fight for Tyson as he eyed more lucrative bouts with more illustrious opponents, such as Evander Holyfield. The pundits were similarly dismissive of Douglas’s chances. One likened the match-up to “Secretariat running against a Clydesdale,” while another article from the time opined:

Tyson will fight Buster Douglas on Feb. 11 [1990] in Tokyo, and Douglas will last about as long as a plate of tuna in a sushi bar. After Douglas, Tyson will meet Evander Holyfield on June 18 in Atlantic City.

Douglas was rated a 42-1 underdog going into the fight, and a pair of personal setbacks disrupted his preparations. His wife left him and his mother passed from cancer just weeks before the fight. Rather than wilt under pressure, as he had done so often in the past, he rose to the occasion. Douglas trained harder than he’d ever trained before, while Tyson barely went through the motions. 

From the first moments of the match, it was clear Douglas was not afraid and had come up with a game plan. He used his jab and superior reach to keep Tyson on backfoot. Tyson’s team hadn’t even bothered with an enswell, a common tool used to reduce facial swelling; instead, they tried to use a latex glove filled with water. 

Douglas dominated the fight, but even a poorly conditioned Tyson was still dangerous. He caught Douglas cold in at the end of the 8th and sent the challenger to the canvas. Douglas seemed angrier with himself than hurt, and  came back strongly in the 9th. Tyson’s lack of conditioning was catching up to him, and a devastating four-punch combo by Douglas floored him. A disorientated Tyson reached for his mouthpiece and tried to get back to his feet but was counted out by the referee. Douglas and his team celebrated wildly, while the Japanese crowd was eerily silent for one of the greatest upsets in sporting history. 

Neither man was ever quite the same after the fight. Douglas gave in to the same temptations that had brought Tyson down. He accepted a mega-deal to fight Evander Holyfield and was easily defeated in the second round. He didn’t fight again for six years, and retired in 1999 after his comeback stalled. Tyson’s life took a far darker turn.

Super Bowl III was a defining moment in the history of American football - the last to take place before the planned merger of the American Football League and National Football League in 1970. The first two Super Bowls were a long way from the great spectacle football’s showpiece game is today. On both occasions, the NFL team, the Green Bay Packers, ran away with it over the AFL side. The NFL was widely believed to be the superior of the two leagues.

At the end of the 1968 regular season, the AFL’s New York Jets made it to the championship game against the Baltimore Colts (they’ve since moved to Indianapolis). The Colts were huge favorites; some critics sneered that the charismatic Jets' quarterback Joe Namath would be playing his first professional game when he came up against the Colts. The bookmakers agreed, with the Jets 19.5-point underdogs. 

Despite the conventional wisdom suggesting his team had no chance, Namath was confident and consistently guaranteed that his team would triumph. That confidence rubbed off on the rest of the players, who were greatly insulted at their underdog status and went out with a point to prove. The Jets' defense was simply unbreakable that day, restricting the Colts to a single touchdown late in the fourth. Namath was the MVP, but was quick to acknowledge the contribution of the defense after the game:

I just can't say enough about 'em, ordinarily, 16 points aren't enough to win, but they were today. This had to be the most satisfying win of my life.

The Colts were devastated, but NFL commissioner Pete Rozelle quickly recognized how important the Jets’ dramatic underdog victory would be for the sport as a whole. Super Bowl III helped to legitimize the AFL and paved the way for pro football to become the most-watched sport in the country.

It’s hard to overstate just how dominant a wrestler heavyweight Aleksandr Karelin was in his prime years. The Russian competed in the highest weight category in Greco-Roman wrestling, yet there wasn’t so much as an ounce of spare flesh on his 6-foot-3-inch, 289-pound frame. His strength was the stuff of legend; his family had been exiled to Siberia by Stalin, and it was in those harsh lands that Karelin trained “like a madman.” 

One story whose exact details change with every telling is that his toughest opponent was his own refrigerator. Apparently, Karelin took to carrying it up six flights of stairs without any assistance. Given his exploits on the mat and comic-book hero physique, that tall tale actually seems plausible.

He went undefeated for 13 years, his only career loss going into the 2000 Summer Olympics in Sydney had been way back in 1987, to a former Russian champion by a solitary point. He didn’t lose another match for 13 years - or even a single point for the past six. He captured three Olympic golds and multiple world and European championships. The heavyweight was known for the Karelin Slam, which might sound like a pro-wrestling finisher, but was a very real feat of strength in which he picked up and slammed 300-pound opponents like they were unruly children.

Standing in the way of an unprecedented fourth gold at the 2000 Olympics was American Rulon Gardner (pictured in 2004), who carried his 289 pounds quite differently from his chiseled opponent. A farm boy from Wyoming, Gardner built his size and strength doing chores around the family’s dairy farm. He struggled with a learning disability as a child, but soon found he was a gifted wrestler. Gardner was certainly no slouch on the mat; you don’t reach that level without serious talent. But he wasn’t in Karelin’s league - nobody was.

Heading into the final, Gardner was quite content with claiming silver, but once the match got underway, Karelin dropped his concentration for just a moment, which allowed Gardner to claim the first point against the man known as “The Experiment” in six years. He gamely hung on to that single point despite Karelin’s ferocious efforts to turn the tide, and claimed gold. To say the victory sent shockwaves through the wrestling world would be a profound understatement. Karelin retired after the match with an astonishing career record of 887-2.

The 1991 PGA Tournament was held in Indiana’s notoriously difficult Crooked Stick golf course. After one of the competitors, Nick Price, withdrew after his wife went into labor, the tournament organizers worked down the list of alternates to fill the spot. 

The ninth alternate was unknown 25-year-old rookie John Daly. He was so far down the list that he didn’t bother to travel to Indianapolis, but when given the opportunity to play, he drove all night from his Memphis home to be there on time for the opening round. He didn’t even have time to practice on the course, but was given the services of Nick Price’s experienced caddy Jeff “Squeaky” Medlin, whom Daly later acknowledged as pivotal to his success.

Daly found a novel way of avoiding the course’s many traps that ensnared more heralded names in golf, which was simply to go over them. His heavyset build and blond mullet didn’t exactly suggest “professional athlete,” but his phenomenal swing powered him to an impressive first-round performance that left him tied for 8th at the end of the first day. The excitement over the newcomer was dampened when a spectator, Thomas Weaver, was struck by lightning and perished.

On the second day, Daly picked up where he left off. His “grip it and rip it” style and everyman persona made him a fan favorite, and by the day’s end, he was in first place. He held on to the top spot for the rest of the tournament, finishing three strokes ahead to claim an astonishing victory in his first major tournament - without having even seen the course beforehand.

Daly donated a portion of his prize money to set up a college fund for the two children of the spectator who passed on the first day.