It's the Participation That Counts!

Naive journalists have been trying for too long to convince us that sports and politics should be separated. But is it realistic to separate sports from politics or from day-to-day life for that matter? Wasn’t it Baron Pierre de Coubertin, the founder of the Contem-plation Olympic Movement, who said “Oh, sport, you are Peace!”?

No matter how hard countries have tried to separate sports from politics, they have invariably failed. Proof? The same, “О спорт! Ты мир!” was beaten to death by Soviet propagandists in the run-up to the 1980 Moscow Olympics. But this didn’t stop the USSR’s diplomatic opponents from boycotting the event (because of the USSR’s military invasion of Afghanistan).

The linguistic dividing line between politics and sports is even more fragile than the diplomatic one. Today we hear how Russian politics is full of “low blows” (удары ниже пояса) or how Yeltsin won his second presidential seat by points (по очкам), whereas Yuri Luzhkov knocked his opponents out (нокаутировал) in the recent mayoral elections.

Thus, a serious foray into the sports lexicon is de rigueur. Or, to use a common figure skating term, it should be included in the обя­зательная программа (man-datory program),  vs. the произвольная программа (free program). Sports terms, particularly from figure skating (фигурное катание), can also take on humorous connotations, as this Russian joke illustrates: “A husband watching a couple of ice skaters is gawking at the female partner: ‘I would love to skate the free program with her,’ he says. ‘Well,’ his wife responds from the bedroom, ‘we’ll see how you skate the mandatory one.’” (“Посмотрим, как ты обязательную откатаешь.”)

Over the years, sports fashions have varied greatly, according to the changing tastes of Russia’s rulers. Of late, tennis parlance has been in vogue in the Kremlin: astute local commentators make a point to say how Yeltsin always tries to play his adversaries “on his favorite surface” (на своём любимом покрытии), for this is when his opponents “make double faults” or “unforced errors,” one after another (двойные ошибки, невы­нужденные ошибки) .

Yet, under Brezhnev, ice hockey was top dog. And, despite the plummeting ratings of Russia’s national hockey team, hockey idioms remain quite popular. Take for instance the famous old Soviet Шайбу! Шайбу! (literally “Puck! Puck!,” the equivalent of “Go, Russia, Go!”) This slogan is still echoed in the stands of many stadiums, regardless of the sport. And, when NHL players were playing too rough, the legendary TV sports commentator Nikolai Ozerov coined the idiom, “We don’t need that kind of hockey” (“Такой хоккей нам не нужен”). This idiom now enjoys wider usage, to express a negative opinion about something. Another pearl spawned by Ozerov was: “Without this, hockey would lose about half of its spectacular attractiveness” (“Без этого хоккей потерял бы едва ли не половину своей зрелищной привлека­тельности”). What he meant was that it is the faults, unpredictable defeats and other gaffes which make hockey such a passionate game. Heard out of hockey context, this phrase becomes quite funny.

Of course, the sport for all tastes is soccer. Unfortunately, of late the dirty tricks of this sport have taken root in Kremlin politics. Soon after Boris Berezovsky was expelled from the field (удалён с поля), observers noted it was a not without Chubais’ influence. Yet, as a true sportsman, Berezovsky showed solid endurance (выносливость) and an ability to take a hit (держать удар), making sure Chubais at least received a “yellow card” (i.e warning) for his now infamous privatization book. This, of course, means that Chubais’ next yellow card would automatically ensue in a red one (i.e expulsion – удаление). So, for now the Berezovsky-Chubais match has ended in a draw (закончился ничьей) , and one may need to resort to the “goal average system” to define the winner (определить победителя по системе “гол+пас”).

In the meantime, Yeltsin forcibly ended Boris Nemtsov’s беспроигрышную серию (winning streak) by scolding him in public for unpaid pension arrears. If this continues, Yeltsin’s former pet Nemtsov may not “pass the qualification tournament” (пройти отборочный турнир) for the Presidential race of 2000. And, almost simultaneously, ex-defense minister Pavel Grachev, having sat for so long “on the bench” (на скамейке запасных) for having let too many goals into Russia’s net (пропустить много мячей) in the past, finally landed a cushy job “in the second league” (во второй лиге), when Yeltsin gave him the post of counsellor at the state arms exporter, Rosvo-oruzheniye.

Sports terms are certainly not limited to the domestic sphere. Soviet-style political observers love to invoke wrestling terms and cite U.S. “arm-twisting policies” (политика выкручивания рук), and political historians would justly recall how the USSR’s allies tried to “play the clock” (тянуть время) before opening the Second Front in WWII. What is more, Yeltsin’s critics say Russia keeps finding itself “off-sides” (вне игры) in the international arena and that, because of “liberals like Gorbachev” and “turncoats like Yeltsin,” Russia lost the Cold War. Yeltsin and his supporters could reply to all this in a humorous vein by recalling the famous Olympic motto: “Winning is not the main thing, participation is” (“Главное не победа – главное участие”).

Let’s face it: more and more often Russian politicians are being booed (освистаны – literally “whistled at”) by the public for poor performance, both when playing на своём поле (at home) and away (в гостях or на чужом поле). And the independent press urges all sides to rid Russian politics and everyday life of the mutual удары ниже пояса and other грубая игра (rough games). However, for now, these sports-related phenomena seem to be too deeply-rooted in the life and language of Russia. And, frankly, both foreign and domestic observers would agree that, without these “rule violations” (нарушения правил), Russian life would lose just about half of its spectacular attractiveness.