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<UID>
8801090347
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
880222
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, February 22, 1988
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1D
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<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1988, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
AMERICANS HOPELESS IN FINALE
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
CALGARY, Alberta --  This is a story about an American hockey team that
did not play defense, lost three times in five tries, and watched helplessly
as a West German player put a final nail into  its Olympic hope chest.

  The puck stops here. For the second Winter Olympics in a row, the United
States has been eliminated from the medal round. It was a sad moment for
American fans who saw West  Germany's Roy Roedger whack a puck into an open
net with 51 seconds left -- the final dagger in a 4-1 U.S. defeat.

  What hurt most, though, was the West German goal that preceded it, when
the game  was still breathing, a goal scored on a defense as thin as a paper
napkin. Here was a recurring nightmare of America's 1988 Games: An opposing
hockey player (in this case, Georg Holzmann) breaking away  from two U.S.
defenders, then whipping a pass to a wide-open teammate (Peter Obresa) for an
easy goal. Once, twice, three swipes you're out. Goodby, Calgary. What time
does the plane leave?
  "How  do they keep doing that?" the U.S. fans seemed to say Sunday night.
"Why do they keep doing that?"
  Why? How? Why not stop it? "You saw the game, make your own decisions,"
snarled U.S. coach Dave  Peterson. 
  Don't tempt us.
  With a 2-2 record, the Americans had entered Sunday night's game needing
to win by at least two goals to make the medal round. Instead, the game
quickly melted into  a blur of near- miss passes, of pucks flying off sticks
and shots that dribbled, slipped, wobbled, ricocheted -- did everything but go
in.
  How many times were the U.S. players close to scoring? How many "oohs" and
"ahhhs" echoed through American living rooms Sunday night? How many? Too many.
The final whistle blew, and the U.S. players skated off, shaking their heads,
looking like children who  could not understand why they were being punished.
  The puck stops here.
  Who's to blame for this performance? The favorite target of the media will
surely be Peterson, who has been as personable as a leech. And in truth, much
of the blame does lie with him. He put this team together, picked the players,
developed the wide-open style of offensive hockey that made for some exciting
moments but  too few victories.
  One wonders why Peterson opted for so much firepower, for converting
forwards into defensemen, for shunning checking and discipline in his own end.
One also wonders why Peterson  was such a nasty grouch during an event that is
supposed to stress brotherhood.
  Perhaps he knew what was coming.
  "You seemed to have some problems with your team's organization," a
foreign  journalist began, when Peterson arrived for the press conference
after the defeat.
  "You want to give a lecture? Come up here," Peterson growled. "OK. We
played 60 games for nothing. We only came  to the Olympics for the fun of it,
right?"
  Class act, huh?
  Peterson, a longtime high school and national juniors coach, also kept his
players from the media after Sunday's loss. "I don't think  they need to sit
and face you guys tonight," he said. "They don't have to apologize and I don't
have to apologize."
  True. All they needed to do was play hockey, preferably smart hockey. But
if they  wanted to do otherwise, none of us was able to stop them. The fact
is, the strongest part of the U.S. game went south when it was most needed.
One goal? This blast-furnace offense scored one goal?
  The puck stops here.
  A lot of you people seem to have different expectations of this team than
ours," Peterson said. "We thought it was realistic to make the medal round. We
almost made the medal round."
  OK. Hard to argue with that. Remember that the United States was playing
some of the finest hockey teams in the world -- in the case of the Soviets,
perhaps the first- or second-best -- and it was  still, for all our hype, a
bunch of hand-picked kids. Comparing their international experience with West
Germany's or Czechoslovakia's is like comparing Bambi to a brontosaurus.
  Sure,  there were nice moments in the five games the Americans played.
There were the 10 goals they scored against Austria, and the furious attack in
a losing cause against the Czechs (the game that truly did  them in). There
was the 7-5 loss to the Soviets, which featured a comeback that invigorated an
entire nation -- three goals in the third period, and a desperate shot by
Brian Leetch that hit the post  and will be talked about with a sigh for years
to come.
  But, more often, there were defeats. More often there were moments like
Sunday night's: Clark Donatelli in front of the West German net with  the puck
at his feet, poking once, twice, three times, trying to push it past goalie
Karl Friesen, having as much luck as trying to sweep an elephant under a
carpet.
  Pressure? You bet. But here  was a moment capturing a team, instead of the
other way around. Remember that West Germany was facing the same "lose and
you're eliminated" circumstances. Yet that team played tight, disciplined
hockey.  That team advanced to the medal round.
  The United States is going to the losers' bracket.
  Sad. True. Perhaps inevitable.Sure, the United States once was a power in
Olympic hockey. But that  was a long time ago. These days, the top young
players are gone to the NHL. The players we send to the Games are children
compared with the veteran teams of Eastern bloc nations. One wonders if we
would even expect anything out of Olympic hockey anymore if that crazy 1980
team hadn't knocked off the Russians that night in Lake Placid.
  Whatever. Over now. The 1984 team left with tears; the 1988 version
departs with a shrug. The truth is, it was simply not good enough to pull off
any upsets, and its legacy in these Olympics will be games that were close,
exciting, sometimes breathtaking, but  more often than not, disappointing.
How? Why? Why bother? The Winter Games continue.
  The puck stops here.
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<DISCLAIMER>

</DISCLAIMER>
<KEYWORDS>
XV WINTER GAMES;OLYMPICS;HOCKEY
</KEYWORDS>
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