A pretty strong argument could be made for classifying it the defining Canadian moment of the electronic age.

Paul Henderson, poaching around Vladislav Tretiak's net, shovelling his own rebound underneath the helpless, fallen goaltender with 34 seconds remaining in the final game of the most compelling hockey series ever played.

	Yvon Cournoyer (12) hugs Paul Henderson after the Team Canada clinched the 1972 Summit Series in Moscow.

North of the free-trade border we've seen the moment so often -- on documentaries, during the late-night TV sign-off superimposed over the flag and to the patriotic strains of "O Canada!," that it has become our Zapruder film -- an inescapable (some might suggest overbearing) slice of history. An ecstatic Henderson, being caught in a joyous bear hug by tiny teammate Yvan Cournoyer. The three downcast Soviets, including the magnificent Vasiliev, skating by, in disbelief. The archaic-looking wire mesh behind the goal. Those white-on-white boards, marred only by black puck-marks.

A still image more famous than anything photographed by Karsh.

In the blink of an eye, the click of a camera, Henderson transformed himself from a pretty good winger into a cultural icon, more recognizable in his home country than pop stars and prime ministers.

It happened in Moscow. Yet considering the political climate of the era, how far away the unfolding events seemed at the time, it might as well have happened on Mars.

From the grainy, Outer Limits-ish television feed originating at Luzhniki Ice Palace to the nasal, high-pitched call of longtime Toronto Maple Leafs' broadcaster Foster Hewitt (not only couldn't Hewitt pronounce Vladimir Vikulov, he seemed absolutely tongue-tied by Cournoyer), that one game, that entire series, have taken on almost mythic proportions across Canada.

"Here's a shot," rasped Hewitt in those final, fateful seconds. "Henderson makes a wild stab for it and falls. Here's another shot. Right in front. They score! Henderson has scored for Canada!"

The Summit Series '72, Canada vs. Russia, is enjoying another birthday. Sept. 28 marks the 30th anniversary of Game 8 and Henderson's leap into history. A reunion of the surviving members of that Canadian team -- singled out as The Team of the Twentieth Century by the Hockey Hall of Fame -- is being held this weekend in Mississauga, Ontario, to commemorate the never-to-be-repeated confrontation. It will be a media event. A 19-hour DVD of the entire compelling odyssey has just been released to much fanfare. An update, written by former Hockey Night in Canada host Brian MacFarlane, titled "Team Canada 1972: Where Are They Now?" is now on bookshelves from coast to coast.

Yes, there have been better played series since. Played by better players (a quick check of the '72 roster invariably draws at least one incredulous gasp per person: "C'mon! You're joking! You mean HE was on that team?!"). There was no Bobby Orr (injured), no Bobby Hull (defected to the WHA). Nothing in the sport since, however, has been able to touch those eight games for sheer drama.

"You had to live it to realize how much it meant to us as Canadians, how big it was," says Minnesota Wild GM Doug Risebrough, who was 18 years old and playing midget hockey in Guelph, Ontario, 30 years ago. "This was our game and they were trying to take it away. That's the way you felt.

"I guess kids today have a difficult time understanding that.

	1972 Summit Series
	Game 1: Sept. 2 at Montreal USSR 7, Canada 3 Game 2: Sept. 4 at Toronto Canada 4, USSR 1 Game 3: Sept. 6 at Winnipeg Canada 4, USSR 4 Game 4: Sept. 8 at Vancouver USSR 5, Canada 3 Game 5: Sept. 22 at Moscow USSR 5, Canada 4 Game 6: Sept. 24 at Moscow Canada 3, USSR 2 Game 7: Sept. 26 at Moscow Canada 4, USSR 3 Game 8: Sept. 28 at Moscow Canada 6, USSR 5

"Paul McCartney played here (at the Xcel Energy Center) the other night, as an example. My daughter, yeah, kinda knows who he is and that he used to be a Beatle. But when I told her the Beatles were the Backstreet Boys times 10, she looked at me like 'No way!'

"Same thing with the '72 series."

Ken Dryden won six Stanley Cups during his years tending goal for the Montreal Canadiens, "But," he says in MacFarlane's book, "nothing in hockey ever brought me so low or took me so high. And nothing meant so much."

Yes, anything else, 10 times over.

The Soviets in their hand-me-down equipment, moth-infested CCCP sweaters. The shock of the 7-3 annihilation of the Canadian pros in Game 1 at the Montreal Forum, mist rising eerily off the ice on a humid September evening. The disbelief. The outrage. Phil Esposito's on-air impassioned plea for support after Game 4 in Vancouver, a forgettable night that saw the Canadians roundly booed during a 5-3 loss.

Bobby Clarke's slash to the ankle that knocked Valeri Kharlamov out of Game 7 completely and left him hobbling badly for Game 8. Russian forward Boris Mikhailov kicking Canadian defenseman Gary Bergman and J.P. Parise going wild, swinging his stick at the referee. An incensed Canadian coach Harry Sinden throwing a chair on the ice. Canadian players, led by Peter Mahovlich, rushing across the ice to the aid of NHLPA boss Alan Eagleson (a lot of them undoubtedly wish now they'd left him to his fate) as he was in the process of being whisked away by Soviet police. And, of course, Henderson, scoring the winning goal in each of the final three games, Canada responding three times unanswered in the third to win Game 8 and the series 4-3-1.

The unprecedented impact of what took place is undeniable. From a cultural standpoint, it brought a country together as never before. Liberals-Conservatives. French-English. East-West. Habs fans-Leaf fans. So many students were expected to play hookey and watch the final game that classes were suspended in most schools across the country, and television sets brought into classrooms or gymnasiums. Hockey would be the curriculum's history lesson for the day.

That series paved the way for new training methods by NHLers.

"There was a revolution in conditioning from '72 to '74," notes Risebrough, who turned pro during that two-year window. "Before that series, camps were used to get in shape. But part of the reason the Soviets led the series was that they were in better shape, plain and simple. As it went on, the Canadians improved, got more into the tempo of the games.

"It woke a lot of people up to the importance of being well conditioned right off the bat."

Team Canada assistant coach John Ferguson recalls being in Europe prior to the series and seeing how countries there used film as an instructional tool for players at a young level, much less in the professional game.

"It was something," he admits now, "that we'd never considered in North America."

The strength of the Soviets, their undeniable skill level, forced the admission among our teams that perhaps there were other places to mine credible hockey talent than Canada and, in limited quantities, the United States.

"Players weren't coming out from behind the Iron Curtain yet," reminds Risebrough, "but the feeling was that, hey, if the Swedes only lost by a goal to the Soviets at the World Championships, there must be some pretty good Swedish players."

The Soviet emphasis on skating and passing and constant flow, of course, influenced a new generation of hockey tacticians across North America. It was the springboard for some great club games and tournaments in the future.

"That series was also the embryonic stage of what we've all come to understand as 'Canadian hockey'," says Risebrough. "That determination, that will, to win. We'd just been expected to just waltz through that series, which is what made the first game so shocking. When everyone saw how skilled the Soviets were, it came down to emotion and desire. In that series, Canadians showed heart could win hockey games, too."

Hockey fans of today's generation sit down with their dads to watch the series and see only a slow-moving game full of unrecognizable players in ancient uniforms. The Summit Series may have been of a specific time. But it is unquestionably a keepsake for all time.

"When Henderson scored that last goal," says Risebrough, "the entire country erupted. I mean, you could hear the cheering from one side to the other.

"I wasn't in Canada for the Olympic gold medal game this year but I understand the reaction was incredible. As great as it must have been, I can't believe it could've matched what happened in '72.

"Back then, the situation was different, it was more adversarial. We hated the Russians because we didn't know anything about them and, let's face it, there's nothing more frightening than the unknown. We thought they were robotic, unfeeling. They weren't like us. The political climate was obviously highly-charged. You couldn't just get on a plane with a passport and fly to Moscow.

"You put all those things together and the tension just built and built and built as those games went on.

"It was incredible to watch."

George Johnson of the Calgary Herald is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.