9201070096
DETROIT FREE PRESS
920218
Tuesday, February 18, 1992
METRO FINAL
1D
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1992, Detroit Free Press
EAST MEETS WEST, AND THERE'S NO ONE TO HATE
MERIBEL, France -- I am looking for an enemy.
I am taking applications. I am knocking on doors. I am walking through the
Olympic Village, waving the American flag, approaching foreign athletes and
saying, "How'd you like a shot at the title, fellas?"
"Mrshmheyejlp?" they say.
I walk on.
I am looking for the Olympics. The old Olympics. When there was a Good Guy
and a Bad Guy, Capitalism versus Communism, America versus the Soviet Union,
or, if the Soviets fell down, East Germany. The old Olympics.
I am looking for a team to hate. I am looking for that kind of clarity.
When America played the Soviets, you knew where you stood: If they won, they
cheered, "ALL HAIL COMMUNISM!" while we went home and said they were
blood-doped.
And if we won, we cheered "USA! USA!" while they burned all the evidence.
Those were the good old days. But now? There is no satisfaction in
picking on the Soviet Union, because there is very little left to pick on. How
can you hate a country when you don't even know what to call it?
Let's see. There's Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, none of which we can hate,
because we have no idea where they are.
And then there's the rest of the former Soviet Union, which now competes
under something called "Unified Team." I'm not sure how unified it is, because
its initials are sometimes CIS and sometimes EUN. They should be WHO? It
consists of, and I am not making this up, 119 Russians, 10 Ukrainians, seven
Kazakhs, three Belarussians and two Uzbeks.
I defy you to hate an Uzbek.
Actually, I feel sorry for the ex-Soviets. They have no flag, no team
logo, they don't even have a national anthem anymore. Remember the old Soviet
anthem? It was like Darth Vader music. It scared the hell out of you.
Now, they stand to the Olympic hymn. The only person that scares is a
piano student.
It's hard to hate Sweden
So I am searching for an enemy. A new rival. I thought I had one Monday
night, when the U.S. played Sweden in hockey. But let's face it. How long can
you hate a Swede?
It's true, they did throw a nasty check early in the game, which left an
American player bloody and dazed. Unfortunately, the check was thrown by Mats
Naslund, who probably learned it in the NHL, where he played for years and won
the Lady Byng trophy.
Hey. You try hating Lady Byng. It ain't easy.
To make matters worse, the game ended in a tie. What kind of rivalry ends
in a tie?
Remember when Ronald Reagan called the Soviet Union "an evil empire"? Now
there was a slogan you could rally around. You can hear the coach in the
locker room before the game: "Men, tonight you're not just playing sports,
you're playing to destroy an EVIL EMPIRE."
What's a coach to say before a game with Sweden? "Men, if you win tonight,
WE'LL NEVER HAVE TO WATCH AN INGMAR BERGMAN FILM AGAIN!"
That'll fire 'em up.
Alas. In the New World Order, this is what we are reduced to: trying to
make Sweden our enemy. Even when we had a chance, we blew it. After the game,
the U.S. coach, Dave Peterson -- we like to call him Mr. Entertainment --
refused to shake hands with the Swedish coaches, presumably because he was
still angry over that check.
Later, in the press conference -- which Peterson began by growling, "Let's
get this over with" -- the Swedish assistant coach came in, walked up to
Peterson, and offered his hand in congratulations. Peterson ignored him.
Acted as if the guy wasn't there. In front of all these people.
As I result, I came out hating someone. Unfortunately, it was Peterson.
And that has been done before.
Seven secrets to being loathed
So what's left? We can't hate the Austrians. They win all the medals, then
disappear, presumably to yodel. We can't hate the Japanese, because, outside
of tiny Midori Ito -- a pogo stick on skates -- they have few athletes to
challenge for medals. Someone suggested Norwegians as new rivals, and someone
suggested the Finns. Then someone said, "What's the difference?"
So much for Norwegians and Finns.
"Anybody?" I say, as I walk through the village, handing out forms.
"Anybody interested?"
Here is my list of rival qualifications:
1) Must speak different language.
2) Must wear boots, even in summertime.
3) Skating judges must look like Bea Arthur.
4) And wear boots.
5) Must have system of fake amateurism.
6) Must have at least one cute little gymnast or figure skater who we all
know would love to defect if only she had the chance.
7) Nuclear weapons.
Surely someone will heed my call. Surely there is some nation out there
ready to play in the big ring. Make the cover of TIME! Get high ratings on
U.S. TV! Send all applications to: Dave Peterson, c/o U.S. Olympic Team,
Albertville, France.
If he doesn't answer, you're on your way.
1992; WINTER; OLYMPIC; TEAM; US; COMPETITION