Karyn Bye once found it necessary to hide who she was, just so she could play hockey. With no girls' teams in her hometown of River Falls, Wis., she had no choice but to skate with the boys -- and because many people weren't thrilled with the idea, Bye obscured her identity by using her initials rather than her first name.

She helped change that in 1998, with 19 other women just as passionate about claiming a place in their chosen sport. Their names became known to the world that winter when the United States won the first Olympic gold medal in women's hockey. Tonight, they will be recognized for another landmark achievement, when they are inducted into the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame.

The 1998 Olympic team created its own version of a miracle on ice, one that changed the face of the sport. A game long restricted to men now celebrates the dynamic growth -- and international success -- of its programs for women and girls. And Karyn Bye Dietz, who used to imitate 1980 Olympian Bill Baker when she was a kid, showed the girls who followed her that a hockey gold medalist could look just like them.

"At the time, I don't think we really felt the impact of what it all meant," said Bye Dietz, who now lives in Hudson. "We think about it much more now that we're older.

"Most of us grew up playing with boys, but it's completely different now. It is so great to see girls get the opportunity to play hockey. We're all proud to have been a part of helping the sport grow, and I hope it continues."

Even now, the '98 team continues to make history. Captain Cammi Granato was inducted into the U.S. Hockey Hall of Fame last year, the first woman to be so honored. She won't attend tonight's ceremony in Boston because she is due to give birth, but most of her teammates will be there with fellow inductees Tony Amonte, John LeClair, Tom Barrasso and the late Frank Zamboni.

Few Americans had any idea women played hockey before the 1998 Olympics. The women's world championships had been conducted only since 1990, and high school and college programs were limited even in regions where the game was popular.

Because of hockey's physical nature, many people thought it too dangerous for women. That made it something of a curiosity at the Nagano Olympics, and the players and coaches understood the stakes. With their game reaching a mass audience for the first time, their performance -- and the image they created -- would be critical to its growth.

The U.S. women delivered the perfect scenario. They cultivated a fierce rivalry with Canada, creating drama and anticipation around the Olympic tournament. They embraced their roles as ambassadors for women's hockey, introducing the public to a group of smart, personable athletes for whom it was easy to root.

Their 3-1 upset of Canada in the gold-medal game, and the delirious, flag-waving outpouring of emotion that followed, sealed the deal. In 1997-98, 28,346 female players were registered with USA Hockey. By the time of the next Winter Games, in 2002, women's participation had increased to 42,292 registered players, a number that has since risen to 59,506.

"It was a springboard," said Bye Dietz, who was the third-leading scorer in the Olympic tournament with five goals and three assists. "There were parents who wouldn't let their daughters play because they thought they'd get hurt, and they saw a finesse game. It showed women's sports were fun to watch, and it showed what a great sport hockey is.

"We got our picture on the Wheaties box, and my hometown had a parade. I thought I'd have a few months off, but my phone never stopped ringing."

Two Minnesotans, Jenny (Schmidgall) Potter of Edina and Alana Blahoski of St. Paul, will go into the Hall of Fame tonight as members of the '98 team. Potter, one of the greatest players in women's hockey history, is on track to make her fourth Olympic team; so is Angela Ruggiero, another '98 star and giant of the game.

And Bye Dietz, who played on boys' teams 25 years ago, is now happily coaching her 4-year-old son's Mite team. "Brody really likes playing," she said. "And he's wearing number 6. Just like Mom."

Rachel Blount • rblount@startribune.com