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Reality Czech Underrated in Nagano, the counterattacking, team-oriented Czech Republic has established itself as the squad to beat
By Kostya Kennedy On the eve of the 1998 winter olympics, as NHL players prepared to compete in the Games for the first time, the medal favorites in hockey included Canada, Russia, the U.S., Sweden and Finland. Only after that formidable five did oddsmakers list the Czech Republic, a small, landlocked nation in which soccer fields outnumber hockey rinks by the dozenfold. Still, a few among the cognoscenti viewed the Czechs as a dark horse for a medal. They had the sport's best goalie, Dominik Hasek, and the NHL's most explosive offensive force, right wing Jaromir Jagr. In a short tournament, the reasoning went, that combination could carry an otherwise ordinary team into the elite. "If Hasek stands on his head for a couple of days and Jagr makes a few plays, they could steal some games," one Canadian player said shortly before leaving for Nagano. "I could see those guys taking the bronze." The Czechs, of course, did better than that. They won the gold, knocking off Canada along the way, and Hasek was indeed spectacular. In the euphoric aftermath of the Czechs' 1-0 final-game victory over Russia, then coach Ivan Hlinka nearly turned ice-blue trying to convince people that there was more to his team than its two guiding lights. "Maybe for the media and spectators it was just Dominik Hasek and Jaromir Jagr," Hlinka said, huffily, "but for us, the coaches, seeing all of the team from the inside, there were no stars. We had such a great team because we have such a great bunch of players working together." Hlinka's refrain sounded like so much politically correct palaver, a coach dutifully praising his forgotten foot soldiers. In the years since he put forth his argument, however, Czech hockey has resonated more powerfully than even he could have imagined. If the Czechs really are all about Hasek and Jagr, how to explain that the country has won the past three world championships with neither Hasek nor Jagr playing for the national team? And what to make of the junior team, which has won back-to-back world junior titles? In these Games the Czech Republic (which plays Sweden today at 4 p.m.) is the team to beat. But how has this cash-strapped country produced the most dominant hockey team in the world, considering that 1) it spent much of the second half of the 20th century being beaten back by the Russians, on and off the ice, and 2) it saw about 20 percent of its available talent pool evaporate in 1993, when the former Czechoslovakia officially split its national teams? "There are," says Szymon Szemberg, an official at the International Ice Hockey Federation in Switzerland, "a lot of factors." For one, the Czechs have long memories and are keenly motivated by them. Jagr, the captain of the Czech Olympic team and a Washington Capital in the NHL, wears number 68 on both of his team sweaters to recall the summer of 1968, when Russian tanks rolled into Prague's Wenceslas Square and crushed what had been a blossoming democratization movement. Jagr was born almost four years after that invasion, but he, like many Czechs his age, was raised on bedside tales of the event and has striven to restore his country's pride.
The Soviet Union also exerted a more tangible impact on Czech hockey: It shaped the style of play. Throughout the 1960s, '70s and '80s the Soviets had been so dominant on the ice that the Czechs typically beat them only once in every four or five meetings. To combat the Soviets' superior talent, the Czechs developed a disciplined system that has earned them renown as "the Italians of hockey." Like Italy's soccer clubs, Czech hockey squads are known for their calculating methods -- long stretches of sober defensive play interrupted by dazzling and often decisive offensive bursts. In short, the Czechs are masters of the counterattack. "I can't call us a defensive team," says veteran Czech and Dallas Stars forward Martin Rucinsky. "We like to entertain. But we know we have to be patient. We have to wait for the right moment to do what we do best." The Czechs' effective dichotomy is that they are at once among the world's most disciplined defenders and its most improvisational offensive players. "What's especially striking is that you go around from team to team in the Czech Republic and they all play pretty much the same way," says Los Angeles Kings general manager Dave Taylor. "There's more unity than you see most places." While Czech players learn the value of defense at an early age -- "their junior teams are almost always more mature defensively than whatever team they're playing against," says Szemberg -- they're also encouraged to frolic near the opposition's net. Statistics aren't kept for most Czech players until they are in their teens because youth league coaches tend to praise players for their creativity. That emphasis continues right up to the national team. While most countries, including, say, Finland, have relied on three basic power-play systems for the past decade, the Czechs encourage their skilled players to adapt to any power-play scheme that plays to their strengths. Slava Fetisov, the general manger and coach of the Russian team and a legendary Soviet defenseman, points out that the Czechs "are using a strong foundation to capitalize on a strong generation of players." The current crop is indeed as bountiful as the country has ever had. In addition to Hasek and Jagr there are more than 60 Czech players on NHL rosters, including such dynamic all-stars as Milan Hejduk of the Colorado Avalanche, Patrik Elias and Petr Sykora of the New Jersey Devils, Martin Straka of the Pittsburgh Penguins and Roman Hamrlik of the New York Islanders. Though many of the top Olympic teams have similar star power, the Czechs distinguish themselves for exactly the qualities that Hlinka suggested. "We think like a team, not as individuals," says center Robert Reichel, whose shootout goal defeated Canada in the semifinals of the 1998 Olympics. "Nobody does anything against each other on the ice. There are 25 guys, and sometimes [off the ice] you aren't always thinking the same way and you're not friendly with everyone. But when we play, we all pull together." Two things have led to that unity. First came the breaking off of the Slovaks nine years ago, which robbed the Czechs of some stars but also eliminated a source of tension. If Czechoslovakia were a single team this year, for example, several world-class Slovak players, including Los Angeles Kings sniper Ziggy Palffy, would be eligible for the club. Yet just as the respective pride of French and Anglo Canadians at times makes them seem more like rivals than teammates, the Czechs and the Slovaks were often at odds. The split has given each group a more cohesive sense of national pride. Then came the 1996 World Cup. The Czechs entered the tournament fresh off victory at the world championships but failed to advance out of the preliminary round, losing 7-1 to lightly regarded Germany in a game that still smarts for any Czech who played in it. The team was sniping and in disarray, and the loss led to the resignation of coach Ludek Bukac, who had feuded with Jagr. "There were too many guys on that team playing for themselves," says Rucinsky. "Losing that game woke us up. When we got to Nagano, everybody agreed to play as a team. You had Jaromir Jagr helping on defense, which maybe you wouldn't have seen before. We won the gold medal, and it's been a team effort since." As one of many pieces of evidence, consider the 1999 world championships in Oslo. The Czechs won, yet the tournament awards for top forward, top goalie and MVP went to players on other teams. By contrast, think of the Czechs' old nemesis in Nagano. Russia relied on five goals by Pavel Bure to beat Finland 7-4 in the semifinals; when the clamping Czech defense rendered Bure a nonfactor in the final, Russia's offense disappeared. The final element in the Czechs' success has been good old-fashioned stesti, or luck -- which is invaluable to even the most talented of squads. Including the semifinal shootout win over Canada at the Olympics, the Czechs have won five consecutive last-puck situations (either overtime or shootout) to avoid elimination from major tournaments. At the 1999 worlds, for example, they beat Canada in a semifinal shootout, then beat Finland in overtime of the final. Reichel attributes that late-game success more to a "new sense of confidence" than to good fortune, pointing out that it was the Czechs' self-assuredness that enabled them to rally from a 2-0 deficit to defeat Finland in the final of last year's world championships. All of this has made for smiling times in the Czech Republic. Nearly 50% of the country tuned in to see that rally against Finland. Soccer remains the nation's top sport, but in recent years many of the most talented young athletes have been hanging up their cleats and donning skates. The number of registered hockey players in the Czech Republic, including women, has risen from about 40,000 in 1996 to 70,000 in 2001. "Everybody wants to be part of the national team," says Reichel. "People say we make them happy. In the summer, when we go home, everybody on the streets knows us, and in every city we sign autographs and do something for charity. It wasn't like that even a few years ago. People are watching us now." |
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