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<UID>
9802110093
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
980211
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Wednesday, February 11, 1998
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT; SPORTS
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1
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<ILLUSTRATION>

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<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>
WINTER OLYMPICS
</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1998, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
NHL PLAYERS IN DREAMLAND, UNLIKE SPITEFUL NBA BRETHREN
</HEADLINE>
<SUBHEAD>

</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
NAGANO, Japan -- I have this nightmare every now and then. I close my eyes, and I am back in
Barcelona, watching Charles Barkley tell a packed audience that the NBA had
arrived, so the rest of the world "should just take their ass-whipping and go
home."
  
I wake up in a cold sweat.

Like a switch thrown by Dr. Frankenstein, the original Dream Team spawned a
monster too large to subdue. Letting multimillionaire basketball stars into
the Olympics was like letting Imelda Marcos into the Athlete's Foot.
  
For two weeks, the NBA elite came out of their ivory tower just long enough to
crush some Third World country, then hurry back to the hotel for
Spectravision. Covering them was like covering El Nino, if El Nino had an
agent.
  
How much better then to open my eyes Tuesday afternoon to see not one Dream
Team, but two -- American and Canadian -- filling the room with names like
Gretzky, Hull, Lindros, all of them world-famous, all of them rich, and all of
them acting -- and here's a shocker for you -- as if they were happy to be
here.
  
Can Dream Teams do that?
  
Well, these can. Here were the NHL's brightest stars, milling about for an
hour like normal folk, talking, joking, not about whipping the world's hind
end, but of their first meals at the Olympic Village, of sharing bathrooms, of
looking forward to mingling with bobsledders and skiers.
  
Millionaires acting like Olympians? Now that's a dream.
  
"I've always wanted to see a downhill race," said Brett Hull, the U.S.
forward.
  
"I want to get tickets to the Michelle Kwan-Tara Lipinski thing," said
Canada's Brendan Shanahan.
  
"Personally," added America's bruising defenseman Kevin Hatcher, "I'd like to
try luge. I'm used to banging into walls."
  
When I first heard the NBA was sending its stars to the 1992 Olympics, I
dreaded the outcome; and I was right. It was a disaster of ego, chauvinism,
money, bickering and showboating. By the end, even Americans were rooting
against them.
  
When I first heard the NHL was sending its pros to these 1998 Olympics, I did
not dread it. I thought about the sport and I said, "Hmm, that could work."
  
Now I'm betting it will.
  

  
No golf; no attitudes
  
Here is the difference between the NBA and the NHL. Hockey players are still
on this planet. Money has not separated them from humanity. And success is not
measured in aloof attitude.
  
Consider this: At the Barcelona Olympics, the basketball dreamers arrived by
private plane, had a police escort, stayed in their own exclusive, luxury
hotel with full-time security and private chefs. Between competitions, they
helicoptered to other countries to play golf.
  
The NHL players entered Nagano by train, got their room assignments at the
Olympic Village, then claimed their beds, six to a suite, two bathrooms, no
favorites.
  
There will be no golf.
  
"We're the same as every other athlete here," said Eric Lindros, the Canadian
captain. "We're here to win our competition and experience the Games."
  
Experience the Games? That immediately leaps them over most of the NBA
pioneers. The original Dream Team -- which included Michael Jordan, Patrick
Ewing and Larry Bird -- was about as interested in the Olympic experience as
they were in herpes.
  
Oh, Barkley would walk around the streets of Barcelona -- at night, usually
late at night -- perhaps figuring that joking with the common folk would make
up for his elbowing Angolans and telling fans to shut up.
  
But the rest of that Dream Team saw as much of the Olympics as a war hostage.
Here was their "to-do" list: 1) Order room service. 2) Watch CNN. 3) Slaughter
opponent. 4) Get back to America.
  
Even as officials draped the gold medals around their necks, the Dreamers had
a plane running on the tarmac. I'm not kidding. I'm surprised a few of them
didn't say, "That's all right, chief, I'll take mine to go."
  
No such problem with the NHL stars. They will not be racing off the stage.
From Wayne Gretzky to Nick Lidstrom, these are guys who see this fortnight as
a chance at something they thought had passed them by, like getting another
crack at your senior prom.
  
"A lot of us figured our Olympic chances were done," said America's Brian
Leetch. "This is a great opportunity."
  
You notice there was no mention of room service.
  

  
The Games come first
  
Now, in fairness to the original Dream Team, navigating a Summer Olympics is
tougher than a winter one. The crowds are bigger, the fans more prevalent. And
Michael, Larry and Magic Johnson were bigger rock stars in Barcelona than
Gretzky, Hull and Patrick Roy will be here in Japan.
  
Also, the NBA Dream Team was a dozen stars. The NHL has 124 players here,
spread out over the U.S., Canadian, Russian, Swedish, Finnish and German
teams, among others. It's harder for the spotlight to capture all of them at
once.
  
But it's more than numbers. It's approach. From Gretzky saying, "Not a single
guy on the team didn't want to stay in the village," to Mike Modano saying,
"I've thought about the Olympics since the Miracle on Ice in 1980" -- what's
different about the hockey Dreamers can be summed up in a single sentence:
They think the Olympics are bigger than them, not the other way around.
  
"When you see guys like Gretzky giving up a chance to go to Hawaii for a few
weeks in order to play hockey, you know it's important," Shanahan said. How
important? Shanahan's roommate is Joe Sakic, from the arch-rival Colorado
Avalanche. And for the sake of Canadian honor, they have promised a truce.
  
"So you won't put a horse's head in his bed?" Shanahan was asked.
  
"I didn't say that," he said, grinning.
  
In some ways, the NHL guys are lucky. Figure skating is still the big sell of
these Games, so they won't be expected to carry the whole Olympic show. In
fact, many of their contests will be played not in prime time but at around 2
a.m. Detroit time.
  
"That's OK," Hull said, "we'll just give people a reason to stay up."
  
There's already plenty of reasons. For one, adding the NHL has made the
Olympic competition fierce, whereas adding the NBA made the competition
nonexistent. Throw in the fact that the NHL guys are not arguing over the
logos on their uniforms, and you're way ahead of where we were when we tried
this experiment six years ago in Barcelona.
  
"Why aren't you staying in the Olympic Village?" someone asked Barkley in that
first Dream Team press conference.
  
"It's a little unfair to expect us to stay in the village," he said. "We got
God on our team and we should stay where God wants us to stay. Right,
Michael?"
  
Funny. Hockey fans would tell you God is playing for Canada. He's that Gretzky
guy over there, in the village, waiting for his turn at the bathroom.
  
To leave a message for Mitch Albom, call 1-313-223-4581.
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THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
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<KEYWORDS>
OLYMPIC;COLUMN
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