Lions in Winter

For the first time ever, the National Hockey League is suspending its season this month,to allow its best playtrs—including Canada's Wayne Gretzky and Paul Kariya, the U.S's John LeClair, Sweden's Peter Forsberg, and Finland's Teemu Selanne— to compete in the Winter Olympies. TIMOTHY GREENFIELD-SANDERS shoots the stars who will be Nagano, Japan, while MORDECAI RICHLER remembers the glory days of a sport that is once again heating up the ice

MORDECAI RICHLER

When I caught

up with the great Detroit Red Wings center Gordie Howe in Hartford, Connecticut, in 1980, he told me, "Hockey's different today, isn't it? The animosity is gone. I mean, we didn't play golf with referees and linesmen. Why, in the old days with the Red Wings, I remember, we and the Montreal Canadiens were traveling to a game in Detroit on the same train. We were starving, but their car was between ours and the diner, and there was no way we were going to walk through there. We waited until the train stopped in London, Ontario, and walked around the Canadiens' car to eat."

I cut my hockey teeth in the late 40s on the old six-team National Hockey League: Montreal, Toronto, New York, Chicago, Boston, and Detroit. Those, those were the vintage years. A time when hockey was still a winter sport, the N.H.L. regular season limited to 50 games, the top four teams then going into the Stanley Cup playoffs. My own cherished team, the incomparable Montreal Canadiens, nos glorieux, was unique in the sport, not because they had won more Stanley Cups than any other club, but because the players had all been born or bred in either Montreal or the outlying towns, and, as local boys, they were entitled to our loyalty: Maurice "the Rocket" Richard, the first player to score 50 goals in a 50game season, Doug Harvey, Jean Beliveau, Guy Lafleur, and Jacques Plante, the first goalie to wear a mask, but only after he had broken his nose four times, his cheekbones twice, and his jaw once, as well as suffering a hairline skull fracture, a concussion, and 200 stitches in his face.

Nowadays, however, the endless N.H.L. regular season lingers into

late spring: 26 teams, split into four divisions, struggling through 82 games each. It's seldom fire-wagon hockey anymore, magnificent skaters lifting us out of our seats with excitement as they gather in a long lead pass and start across the red line, swooping clear of defensemen to score. The problem today is the number of journeymen drafted, out of necessity, to fill the 26 team rosters. These uglies clutch, they grab, they trip and hold, anything to slow down what was once the fastest game in sport, much to the dismay of the game's bona fide artists—say, Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier, young Paul Kariya, and, before he retired, Mario Lemieux. Disenchanted fans look forward to the rare international series, where only the truly talented compete. So this February the cognoscenti will be hoping for a little magic on ice in Nagano, Japan, where, for the first time ever, the N.H.L.'s ne plus ultra will be skating for their national teams in the Winter Olympic Games.

The first world ice-hockey championship I ever attended—in Stockholm, in 1963—was played on a much more modest level. Canada was represented by the Trail Smoke

Eaters of British Columbia, who were denounced as hooligans in the Swedish press, a typical headline running, THE CANADIANS WANT TO SEE BLOOD. When I met the Trail Smoke Eaters' fulminating coach, Bobby Kromm, he protested, "They called me a slum. Am I a slum?"

Certainly not, I said, and then I asked him why the European players, who preferred a finesse game, didn't go in for bodychecking.

"They condone it," he said, "that's why."

I must have looked baffled.

"They condone it. Don't you speak Englishr

The quintessential international series was yet to come, the N.H.L. allstars versus the Russians in 1972. With pity Canadian hearts were laden, everybody anticipating a blowout for the N.H.L. team. But, in the event, the superb Russians amazed us with their precision passing. That heartstopper of a series was tied, 3-3-1, the final game being played in Moscow. Canada skidded to a stop, just about everybody in Canada in thrall to his TV set. Our manhood was redeemed at 19:26 of the third period, when the hitherto undistinguished Toronto Maple Leafs left wing, Paul Henderson, gained instant immortality by potting the winning goal.

When European players became a factor in the N.H.L., in the mid-70s, then Canadiens coach Claude Ruel was asked why our team was deficient in scouting the Continent. "Nothing." he said, "would make me cross the Athletic Ocean."

Now European players are among the best in the N.H.L., but I doubt that the current crop of Russians will be a serious threat in Nagano.

I look to the Swedes,

led by Colorado Avalanche center Peter Forsberg and Toronto Maple Leafs center Mats Sundin, to be contenders. Ditto the Finns, bolstered by the presence of wee Montreal Canadiens center Saku Koivu, a foxy playmaker. and Anaheim Mighty Ducks right wing Teemu Selanne, top goal scorer in the N.H.L. as I write. The Czech to watch is sniper Jaromir Jagr. right wing of the Pittsburgh Penguins, and the team will benefit from Buffalo Sabres goalie Dominik Hasek in the nets, but they are thin on the bench. I doubt that the Americans can repeat their 1980 ''Miracle on Ice," but they will be blessed with some formidable sharpshooters, Philadelphia Flyers left wing John LeClair. New York Rangers center Pat La Fontaine, and Phoenix Coyotes left wing Keith Tkachuk among them. The gold medal is Canada's to lose. The gifted Rangers center, Wayne Gretzky, should settle down a team that includes Anaheim left wing Paul Kariya. arguably the most talented player in the game today, as well as Colorado center Joe Sakic, Detroit center Steve Yzerman, and Boston Bruins defenseman Ray Bourque, with Colorado's Patrick Roy and the New Jersey Devils' Martin Brodeur alternating in the nets.

Whatever. Like other undernourished fans, I anticipate some compelling hockey in Nagano, maybe even a vintage game or two.