Chapter 93: Education

July 26, 1997, Moscow, Russia

“They’re really good,” Paul observed as we watched the Russian youth team warm up.

“The Russians take their hockey as seriously as they take football in Texas and basketball in Indiana.”

“So it’s religious, then.”

“Pretty much!” I chuckled.

“Who’s that guy on the ice with them, wearing a different uniform? One of the coaches?” Chris asked.

I chuckled, “No. He’s Deputy Chief of Staff for President Yeltsin. His name is Vladimir Vladimirovich Putin, and I’ve met him a couple of times before, when he was in Saint Petersburg. He’s representing President Yeltsin today. He’s a huge hockey nut and I hear that he plays on an amateur team. The guy in the athletic gear on the bench is Nikolai Borschevsky of Spartak Moscow. He was the scoring leader last year in the Russian Superleague.”

“Is that like their NHL?”

“Basically, yes. The guy next to him, in the blue sports jacket is Vladislav Aleksandrovich Tretiak, probably the greatest goalie to ever play the game. He’s a goaltending coach for the Blackhawks.”

“Wasn’t he the Soviet goalie in Lake Placid?” Chris asked.

“Yes. I have an autographed photo hanging outside the conference room in our office that’s named for him.”

“You know all those guys?” Natalie asked.

“I’ve met Putin, as I said, but I’ve never actually met the other two. I recognize Tretiak, and Dima told me who the other person would be besides the coaches. There are other Russian players in the stands.”

“I’m just amazed that most of this is being paid for,” Elaine said. “Your friend Dima did a wonderful thing!”

“And my friend in the Duma, as well. And his daughter who is a diplomat. They made it all happen, and got funding from industrialists who want to see good relations between the US and Russia.”

“Do you travel a lot, Mr. Adams?” Natalie asked, choosing to use a formal address.

“I do, mostly for work, but my trips to Russia were vacations.”

“Where have you been?”

“All over, really - England, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Germany - both East and West, Austria, Russia, the Netherlands, Australia, Singapore, and Japan.”

“Wow! What kind of work do you do?”

“I own my own company that works with computers. Have you traveled?”

“We lived in Germany when my dad was in the Air Force, but I was two when he got out and we moved back to the US, so I really don’t remember much. This is my first trip I remember, except for when we went to Toronto for a few days last year, so Nicole could see the Ice Hockey Hall of Fame.”

“Jesse and I plan to go there sometime in the next few years,” I said. “What do you do, Chris?”

“I’m a fire protection engineer. I was a fireman in the Air Force and it seemed like the right way to go, rather than joining the CFD. I work for Allstate specializing in large building safety.”

“Do you work, Elaine?”

“I’m a hockey mom! That’s a full-time job, and then some! I worked part-time in the evenings while Chris was in school, but once Nicole turned six, my full-time job became ‘hockey mom’. Add in Natalie’s volleyball and I spend lots of time in my minivan. SO stereotypical!”

“Where do you guys live?”

“Oak Park. About a mile from the Sarcus.”

“My friends, the Jaegers, also live in Oak Park.”

“Mrs. Jaeger?” Natalie asked. “The Social Studies teacher?”

“Yes.”

“I had her three years ago in sixth grade.”

“You’re a Freshman?”

“I just finished my Freshman year. So I guess four years, if you say I’m in tenth grade, which I will be in a month.”

“What did you think of her?”

“She’s totally cool. I liked her class a lot.”

“I’ll tell her,” I grinned. “She and I went to High School together and we dated briefly. Her husband is one of my best friends.”

“She’s really pretty!” Natalie declared.

“Don’t I know it!” I chuckled. “We had crushes on each other for a couple of years, but didn’t tell each other. We eventually dated for a bit, but things didn’t work out for us. We stayed great friends, though.”

“Do you get to many Blackhawks games?” Chris asked.

“A few. I’m really a Penguins fan, though.”

“So are Natalie and Nicole,” he laughed. “When the Penguins played the Blackhawks for the Cup five years ago or so, Natalie decided to root for Pittsburgh to tease me. Nicole is a huge Mario Lemieux fan.”

“I got the last laugh, too!” Natalie declared.

“And you have good taste in teams! Jesse is a Mighty Ducks fan, which has created some interesting situations at the United Center.”

“I bet!”

The horn sounded and we all stood while they played the American and Russian anthems, and then sat down to watch. As I’d expected, and as Jesse and I had discussed, the Russian team was far better, but our kids held their own and didn’t get blown out. Nicole scored two goals, but Jesse and his defensemen, under an onslaught, gave up five. It could have been worse, but Jesse did an awesome job and his defensemen worked really, really hard.

When the game ended, the kids lined up for the time-honored handshakes at center ice, then trooped off to their locker rooms to shower and put on street clothes. Once they were dressed, we walked about four hundred meters to a restaurant which Dima and Vanya had reserved for a late lunch and a chance to socialize with the other team and their parents. I got a drink and turned to scan the room. I saw my son and walked over to him.

“You guys hung tough,” I said to Jesse, Mikey, and Nicole who were drinking Cokes at a table with three Russian boys and one of their dads, who was doing a passable job translating.

“Their forwards shoot harder than the forwards in our new league,” Jesse said. “And they’re our age.”

“Yeah, but I got their goalie’s number!” Nicole laughed. “High stick side and he’s toast! Too bad we aren’t playing them again!”

The dad translated and the three boys all laughed, which told me none of them was the goalie Nicole was dissing.

“You must get past backs, first,” the dad said, translating for one of the boys.

“I take figure skating lessons!” she laughed. “I skate circles around boys!”

The dad laughed and translated and the boys all laughed as well.

“My son says he would like a girlfriend like you!” the dad said.

Jesse, Mikey, and Nicole all laughed, but then Nicole blew a kiss to the boy, causing him to turn bright red and his two friends to unleash a torrent of what had to be severe teasing in Russian.

“I’m Steve Adams, Jesse’s dad,” I said extending my hand.

“Pavel Andrevsky,” he said.

“And your father’s name?”

“Ivan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Pasha Ivanovich!”

“And yours?”

“Ray. They call me Stepa Rayevich. This fine young man is Jesse Stepanovich, and his friends are Mischa Pavlovich and Nicole Kristoforovna.”

“Ah, you must be close friend to General Dima!”

“Yes.”

“A wonderful thing, ice hockey. Is something we can use to unite our wonderful countries after divisions of past under Communists.”

“I agree. Though I suspect 1980 doesn’t mean the same to you as it does to me.”

“You see Tretiak there, yes? You know of him?”

“I have an autographed photo of him in my office. How could I not know the greatest goaltender in the history of ice hockey?! Not to mention he is the goaltending coach for Chicago.”

“Fool Tikhonov should have been sent to Siberia! And I’m not even Communist!”

I chuckled, “My friends and I thought that was going to happen!”

“Mr. Adams?” Nicole asked. “My middle name is Patricia.”

“Yes,” I replied, “but the Russians don’t have middle names the way we do. They use their dad’s name and modify it slightly with something that means either son or daughter. I used a Russian version of your dad’s name, Christopher. Jesse, on the other hand, has my given name as his middle name, Russian style. That’s true of all my boys.”

“And you used some strange name for Mikey, too.”

“Mischa? That’s how you say ‘Mike’ in Russian. His name would be ‘Mikhail’. Jesse isn’t a common Russian name, and you could be Nikola, but I didn’t change yours.”

“How did you learn all of that, Mr. Adams?” Mikey asked.

“I dated the General’s wife before they met,” I grinned.

“Whoa! And you’re friends?”

“Why not?” I asked. “She didn’t break up with me to be with him. We broke up before she began dating him.”

“You told Natalie you dated her sixth-grade teacher!” Mikey said.

“Aunt Kathy?” Jesse asked.

“Yes.”

“How can she be his Aunt?” Nicole asked. “You dated, so she can’t be your sister, and she has a different last name, so she didn’t marry your brother.”

“She and her husband are close family friends. My kids call them Aunt and Uncle and her kids do the same for us.”

“Jesse said you dated a girl who figure skates.”

“I did. She’s a figure skating teacher now. She lives in Sweden. I met her when I lived there. I’ll let you guys continue talking. I’m going to meet Tretiak!”

“Been there, done that,” Jesse said with feigned indifference.

“Watch it, Little Duck!” I said menacingly, but he just laughed.

I left the group and went to the table where Dima was with Tretiak and Nikolai Borschevsky. He introduced me to both of them, and we talked about hockey for a good ten minutes before I excused myself so that I didn’t monopolize them. As soon as I stepped away, several others took my place. I scanned the room and took note of where Mike Reston and Kelly Grumman were, and went over to another group of parents to socialize a bit before lunch.

At lunch I sat with the Sarcus and Heaths again, and just after we finished eating, Captain Dezhnyov arrived to get Jesse and Mikey. Jesse had talked to Dima and together they’d convinced Captain Dezhnyov to allow Nicole to join them. They left, and a few minutes after that, I headed back to the hotel to relax before my 8:00pm dinner with Dima, Vanya, Anya, Lyusya, and Yuri.

A car picked me up to take me to the restaurant where we had a private room, and I was warmly greeted by all of my friends, and introduced to Yuri, Lyudmila’s boyfriend. I was amused to see Lyudmila dressed very stylishly, as opposed to how she’d been dressing as a software engineer/surfer chick.

“You look VERY nice, Lucy Alexa,” I said with a grin.

She rolled her eyes, “I hate this as much as you hate that tie you’re wearing! And that name I can’t believe YOU just used!”

“The dress DOES look good on you.”

She stepped close, “You’d prefer it off!”

“Of course! But you told me you and Yuri were serious when we spoke last month.”

“We are. As I said, you’ll like him.”

She was right. Yuri seemed to be a great guy, and he was up-and-coming in the Interior Ministry, under the patronage of Vanya Voronin. I chuckled to myself that nothing really changed in Russia, except they’d switched economic systems. The Tsars had been changed out for Commissars and those for Cronies. But in the end, it still worked about the same at the highest level. The difference was, things seemed to have improved for the average Russian, which had not been the case in history.

The meal was awesome, and I had a great time talking with my old friends, and, I hoped, a new one. I could tell Yuri was completely smitten with Lyusya, and I understood why. She was extremely smart, extremely successful, and extremely sexy. The combination was exactly what I had in my wives, which made me very happy, and I was sure Yuri would be happy as well.

I talked to them about Matthew Archer, the person Sir Danny had introduced me to, and Vanya, Yuri, and Lyusya committed to talking to him. We didn’t stay out too late, as Jesse and I were going to church in the morning, so I was back in my room by 11:00pm. I called home, then climbed into bed.

July 27, 1997, Moscow, Russia

On Sunday morning, Jesse and I were up very early for our private tour of a few of the churches in Red Square. We were blown away by the beauty of the churches, which were mostly museums - The Cathedral of the Assumption, Cathedral of the Annunciation, Cathedral of the Archangel, and most importantly Saint Basil’s Cathedral. We attended a liturgy at the Church of All Saints. Our only regret was that the tour, despite starting at 6:00am, was somewhat rushed. That said, our Monday sightseeing would only include St. Basil’s, so Jesse and I were very happy for the tour.

“Why don’t they build churches like this back home?” Jesse asked.

“Nobody could afford to build these kinds of churches. Even the small churches back home cost a lot to build and maintain. I think we need to come back so we can do a proper tour of all the churches, instead of only having a few minutes in each one.”

“When?”

“It would have to be next Summer, I think. I want to visit Sweden, too.”

“Could we see Marta?”

“I want to see Pia, so yes. They haven’t been able to come to the US recently. I’ll talk to your moms and your aunts and figure it out.”

“Cool.”

We had to hurry to the rink, where we arrived just in time for Jesse to collect his gear from the Sarcus and go to the locker room to change.

“How was church?” Mary asked.

“Amazing,” I replied. “Even though it was all in Church Slavonic, we could follow the services because the pattern is identical, including the music. The church Jesse goes to in Carol Stream uses Russian music, much of which was composed by Tchaikovsky. He wrote a setting for the Divine Liturgy which is just out of this world.”

“Do you go to church regularly?”

“No. Jesse does, but I don’t. That said, I see some valuable things in Orthodox theology, and the services are other-worldly.”

“Are you Russian Orthodox?” Elaine asked.

“No. I’m basically an agnostic, and look to several different faiths for help in understanding the world.”

“Which ones?” Paul asked.

“Russian Orthodox Christianity, Buddhism, Hinduism, and for amusement, the Norse pantheon, particularly Loki. How about you?”

“Roman Catholic. I guess it’s pretty similar to the Orthodox Churches.”

“You guess wrong,” I said lightly. “There’s a world of difference, but unless you’re more interested in theology than ice hockey, we should probably let that go now because they’re about to play the anthems.”

We stood for the two anthems, then sat back down to watch the game. We were outmatched again, but Jesse and his defensemen closed ranks and did a great job in keeping the game close. We ended up losing 3-2, but it was a great game, hard fought, and well played by both teams.

“Think they’ll win any of these games?” Chris asked.

“If they play strong defense, as they did today, they have a chance. Nicole got another goal, so she has three of our four. We need others to score, no matter how good our defense is.”

When the kids came from the locker room, we had a team lunch, and then headed back to the hotel for a few hours before the party with the kids and their families from all three teams we would play - the two we’d already played and the one we would play on Tuesday afternoon. That meant just over two hundred people, of all ages, gathered in a large park which had been set aside for the party, with tents, a football pitch, food, and live chamber music.

I spent the entire evening eating, drinking, and socializing, meeting lots of Russian families and fully understanding Vanya’s goals for the trip. I’d known what he wanted to do, but this drove it home. If we, the citizens of Russia and America, could become friends, and cooperate, the world would be a much better place. I also knew he had other motives, which were to create a counterweight to China, which was rapidly growing in influence, and which more directly threatened Russia, because of her natural resources, than the United States, at least in the near term.

If our kids were close in skill level to the Russians at ice hockey, football, or as we called it, ‘soccer’, was another matter entirely. Even the seven-year-old Russian kids were more skilled than our eleven-year-olds. That said, the kids had a blast, and I had an opportunity to learn some of the finer points of a game which I’d always considered somewhat boring.

“The nets are WAY too big!” Jesse laughed, coming to stand next to me while another kid tended goal.

“If they weren’t, nobody would ever score!” I replied. “Are you having fun?”

“Yes! I wish I had learned to speak more Russian!”

“Me, too!”

“Your children, they do not play football?” a man about my age asked.

“It’s more common to play baseball, American gridiron football, or basketball. Ice hockey is more popular than Association Football, at least where we live.”

“Football is most popular world sport.”

“Oh, I know! I’m Stepa Rayevich.”

“And I am Vasha Vladimirovich. He is your son, one who stands in goal?”

“Yes. Jesse Stepanovich.”

“He is very good. Your team needs young men who can score.”

“Not young women?” I asked.

He laughed, “Young girl is very good. Is such normal in America?”

“There aren’t many girls who play with the boys, but there are some. All that’s necessary is they qualify for the team.”

“Not for professionals?”

“No, not for professionals. But next year, in Nagano, the women will play for medals.”

“I have heard. Russia will not play because we did not play well at IHF tournament.”

“I know, and that’s too bad.”

We watched for a bit, then went to get something to eat, and I introduced Vasha to the Heaths and Sarcus. We all ended up exchanging contact information, and ultimately, invitations to visit each other. Vasha found his wife, son, and daughter, and brought them to meet us as well. His son was Jesse’s age and played center, and his daughter was fifteen and reminded me of Tanya when I first met her. Unfortunately, neither of them, nor his wife, spoke much English, so that made conversation difficult. Vasha did his best to translate, but I could tell it was tiring.

When the party finally broke up, we walked back towards the hotel as a group.

“Did you enjoy last night?” I asked Nicole.

“It was lots of fun! Those soldiers are really cool, and they brought some female officers to meet us as well. Thank you for talking to Mr. Grigoryev for me.”

“You’re welcome! What did you think, Mikey?”

“That Russians dance very strangely!”

“How many times did you fall on your butt?” I asked.

“All of them!” he said, causing all the adults to laugh.

“What did the rest of you do last night?” I asked.

“Nothing!” Natalie groused.

“Oh, hush!” her mom said. “We had a nice dinner and walked to the Kremlin. You’re in Russia! Have fun and enjoy being here! Tomorrow we’ll see the city and do some shopping!”

“Oh boy,” Natalie replied, rolling her eyes, though her mom couldn’t see that.

“You aren’t enjoying the trip?” Mary asked her.

“Hockey games and eating! I can do those at home.”

“She has a disease which can only be cured by time,” Chris said. “I think it will run its course in about five years!”