9805290083
DETROIT FREE PRESS
980529
Friday, May 29, 1998
METRO FINAL
1D
Photo JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/Detroit Free Press
Red Wings Tomas Holmstrom, left, and Nicklas Lidstrom talk (funny?)
during a break at practice Thursday.
The Swedish countrymen are a stark contrast in styles. Tomas Holmstrom, left,
is a raw talent, a bruising forward who often takes his lumps, too. Nicklas
Lidstrom is one of the smoothest defensemen in the NHL, a finalist for the
Norris Trophy.
MITCH ALBOM
Copyright (c) 1998, Detroit Free Press
SWEDE SUCCESS. LIDSTROM-HOLMSTROM? IT'S A NORTH-SOUTH THING
Ihand the map of Sweden to Nick Lidstrom. I ask him to circle his home town.
It's in the southern half of the country. "Vasteras," he says. "Very nice
place."
"And where is your teammate Tomas Holmstrom from?" I ask.
"Tomas?" he says, snickering. "He's from ...up north."
I go to Holmstrom. I hand him the map of Sweden. He circles his hometown. It
is indeed in the north. "Pieta," he says. "Very nice place."
"And where is Lidstrom from?"
"Nick?" he says, rolling his eyes. "He's from ...down south."
You hear of north/south rivalries in these Stanley Cup playoffs. You hear of
Canada vs. U.S. You hear of Detroit vs. Dallas. You hear of ...Sweden?
"Northern Swedish, they are different," says Lidstrom, chuckling. "They are
very private. They talk differently. Tomas lives up there with the reindeer,
you know."
I mention this to Holmstrom. His eyes glare. "He said reindeer? That
back-stabber!"
Now, if you're like me, you had no idea there was a north/south thing going on
in Sweden. Personally, I thought all of Sweden was north. I mean, when a chunk
of your country is in the Arctic Circle, how south can the rest of it be? It's
not like southern Sweden has palm trees and hurricanes. It's not like they're
serving pina coladas down there.
But apparently, just as most countries have their invisible borders, so, too,
does Sweden. To the outside, it might be all gorgeous blonds and meatballs.
But inside, there's a north and south. And apparently they love to tease each
other.
"Did Tomas tell you he lives near the Laplanders?" Lidstrom says, chuckling.
I mention this to Holmstrom.
"LAPLANDERS?" he says.
Uh-oh.
Where the reindeer roam
Now, I want to make something clear. These two are friends. They hang out
together. They go to movies together. They speak Swedish together (although
each jokes that the other has "a funny accent"). And they are both worth their
weight in gold to the Wings, especially in the playoffs, where they have come
on strong. They are tied for third in team scoring.
It's true, Lidstrom plays defense quietly, masterfully, like a skilled
surgeon, while Holmstrom plays forward like a bull in a china shop. And it's
true, they call Holmstrom "Homer," while they call Nick, well, "Nick."
But they are buddies. Pals. Theirs is a jovial, winking rivalry.
Until you mention reindeer.
"Hey, it's not like we keep reindeer as pets," Holmstrom says of his little
town on the Baltic Sea, where it is sometimes dark 20 hours a day. "It's not
like we have reindeer running around the living room."
"Do you eat reindeer?" I ask.
"Sometimes."
"Don't tell me. It tastes like chicken?"
He stares at me. Obviously, the chicken jokes haven't found their way up there
yet.
So I did some exploring. And after long, arduous research -- which consisted
of looking for the "S" volume of my encyclopedia -- I can tell you that,
geographically speaking, the area of Sweden where Holmstrom comes from is
yellow, while Lidstrom's is orange.
No, wait. Those are the colors on the map.
OK. The colors mean that there are about 30 people per square mile in
Holmstrom's neck of the woods, and 380 per square mile where Lidstrom lives.
In either case, we're not talking about downtown Tokyo here.
So I go to Anders Eriksson, the Red Wings' other Swede. I ask him, "What is
the difference between the north and the south?"
"Where Tomas lives," he says, "they are very private, very relaxed, very
calm."
Hmm. That sounds more like Lidstrom.
"And where Nick lives, they are more outgoing."
Hmm. That sounds more like Holmstrom.
"Also, where Nick lives, they are good at dancing."
Dancing? That doesn't sound like either one. Maybe Eriksson is messing with my
head. Maybe he's pulling the Swedish wool over my eyes...
"Did Tomas tell you about the reindeer?"
Maybe he isn't.
They share a common cause
Now, I don't want to take away from the focus in this series. Obviously, the
Wings want to beat Dallas, a team that is south whether you are Holmstrom,
Lidstrom or Strom Thurmond.
But I find it funny that, even on a hockey team that has only three Swedes,
there can be such differences. And one of the biggest differences, they say,
is the sense of humor.
"Oh yes," both Eriksson and Lidstrom agree, "Tomas is very funny, the way they
are funny in the north."
"And how is that?" I ask.
"You know," they shrug, "just ...funny."
Of course, we're talking Sweden here, the country that gave us such crack-ups
as Bjorn Borg.
But that's my point. You can have a rivalry anywhere, anytime, over anything.
The important thing is to put aside your differences. Unify for a good cause.
Like winning the Stanley Cup. Right, Nick?
"Yes," he says. "Tomas is a great guy ...he just talks funny."
Right, Homer?
"Did Nick really say reindeer? I am going to kill him!"
And here I thought Sweden was neutral.
To leave a message for Mitch Albom, call 1-313-223-4581.
THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION MAY DIFFER SLIGHTLY FROM THE PRINTED ARTICLE.
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