Tending the Goals

Vladislav Tretyak, 54, Chairman of the Russian State Duma Committee on Physical Culture, Sports and Youth Affairs, was one of the best hockey goalies of the 20th century, and is one of Russia’s most famous and beloved sportsmen. In an exclusive interview with Nikolai Dolgopolov, Tretyak talked about his life in sports and government. Recently elected chairman of the Russian Hockey Federation, Tretyak intends to give Russian hockey a much-needed shot in the arm. This year Moscow will host the World Ice Hockey Championships. The timing could not be better for the sport, which is stagnating here and sorely in need of reform. The last time Russia won a gold medal in world competition was 1992. Relations with the NHL are at a low ebb and the legendary hockey club Spartak was dissolved last year due to financial problems. Tretyak has his work cut out for him.

Nikolai Dolgopolov: Time was, NHL scouts were after you...

Vladislav Tretyak: They were trying to catch me at the banquets after world championships. They approached me both officially and informally.

ND: Were these offers tempting?

Tretyak: Quite tempting. They offered Valery Kharlamov huge money: $1 million. And to me as well. For those times, it was an unbelievable sum, even by NHL standards. They also offered me the option to stay in the West or even defect.

ND: And what was your reaction?

Tretyak: Well, we put on faces, polite smiles, shaking our heads in refusal, saying “No, no.” Back then, no guys on the team would think of letting down their country and leaving the Soviet Union just like that. We were living in a different society and a different epoch. And today it makes no sense to defect. Why? Just sign a contract, but do it officially.

ND: Maybe we need to impose some kind of an age limit (for those leaving for the NHL)?

Tretyak: I am telling you as a man who knows the NHL: there is nothing to do in the NHL before you are 20. It’s not like Russian hockey. Over the course of just five days you could well have three matches, with air commutes. And the NHL hockey rinks? It’s not like here in Russia. The rink is so large, there is no way to catch the forward. In Canada, the rinks are smaller: they will rough you up and beat the hell out of you; the whole game is permanently on the brink of penalty. It’s really tough. And there are virtually no weak teams, you can be felled by any squad. Okay, maybe there are two teams that are slightly inferior to the other 30. But in every match you have to really give 100 percent, and you have to motivate yourself for every match. And in this regard, you are on your own. No one is going to push you like they do here.

ND: Vladislav, you played for the then all-mighty CSKA (Red Army Club) from the time you were 17. Anatoly Tarasov was called a great coach, both then and now. But today one sometimes hears a different line: “sure, Tarasov was a strong coach but he was also quite despotic.” 

Tretyak: I have always had great respect for Tarasov. Yet there are people who don’t like him. He is an amazing coach and a born psychologist. This great man always had a goal in mind and would set the goal before us. If Tarasov had faith in a player, he would make sure the athlete reached this goal. And he believed in me while I was still a boy. He raised many eyebrows back then, putting a 17-year-old goalie out there to defend the CSKA colors! Tarasov promised I would also join the national team. And I did... I was the number one goalie on the national team for 15 seasons. Tarasov had both faith and vision.

ND: Sure, but he was such a tough guy... What about the month-long practice sessions at training camps?

Tretyak: You had to be tough in those days. As to training camps... It was not just about tough discipline but also about good food. Because if our trainers let us go home – with no parents waiting for us – we would have starved. There were long lines at grocery stores and in restaurants you could end up in a drinking bout. There was nowhere to go. People tend to forget it now. 

In those training camps, iron discipline was the rule. And the food was great. We were very well-prepared. Such was the system back then: we were like a family. And when we stepped out onto the ice, we were a very cohesive team. And we would win everything. Though, truth be told, we were having a hard time. And to be even more open, I should say, today I would not like to be locked up [in a training camp]. 

ND: I would not say anything bad about your teammates, all the more that they don’t deserve it. But you always strictly observed the sports regime: you have always been quite inquisitive, trying to learn something new. You had your own diary. You would even dictate your dispatches to newspapers directly from world championships or from the NHL Super Series. Didn’t you feel a bit like an alien alongside some of your teammates who were taking it easier? How did you get along with them? Take, for example, the goalie Viktor Konovalenko, who was twice your age?

Tretyak: He was 33 and I was 17. We got along well. They were all fine with me. For I did prove myself by playing top-notch hockey. I played for half a year for CSKA and then for the national team. They regarded me as a young, promising talent.

ND: Did they, perhaps, as a kind of hazing, send you to the liquor store to buy a couple of bottles?

Tretyak: Never. Never, ever. I always felt respect. Sure, we had young players who did carry the hockey sticks and uniforms [of the elder players]. At the beginning, I would also help out. But then I was selected for the World Championships in 1970, we won, and I quickly was upgraded to another, “higher league,” so to speak, from a young, callow player to the rank of team leaders. Though some might tease me: “Hey, Tretyak, you are still so young, why don’t you carry our sticks?” I would say, “Fine with me,” but then somehow skipped that chore. And our defenders Ragulin and Brezhnev also supported me in this respect. 

ND: Yeah, you wouldn’t want to mess with such big guys. But surely some players must have envied you?

Tretyak: Some famous players were jealous. They were already famous, and along comes this young goalie who is all over the place: in newspapers interviews, on magazine covers. That’s the sort of fame I had. So quite naturally some were jealous. But I was respectful to everyone. I never put on airs, that is, “I am now this famous guy, so you should be working for me.” I have always tried – then and now – to be discreet and keep a low profile with people.

ND: Back then, many of your teammates violated the training regimen quite often, but not you...

Tretyak: But that doesn’t mean I was shy to celebrate when there was an occasion. I just did everything in moderation. As we say, I knew “when, with whom and how much” [to drink]. This is what it’s all about: know your norm!

ND: And what’s your norm?

Tretyak: Everyone has his own norm. It all depends on the mood on a given day. In the summer, you might well lay back and relax. We had our own vacationing team: Kharlamov, Lutchenko, Volchkov, Glazov. Together we would go south to have a good time. All hell would break loose for like a week. But I remained the most sober. My teammates would give me the money and the IDs; I was the treasurer. They trusted me because I would never get drunk to the point of oblivion. Maybe that was why the guys respected me and even elected me as the leader of the Young Communist League [Komsomol] faction and then as the Communist Party leader.

ND: You were also elected to the Central Committee of the Komsomol, right? 

Tretyak: Yes, I was elected twice. I also carried the flag of our Olympic team at two winter Olympics. I was so honored.

ND: Vladislav, tell me: that patriotic thrust and those slogans, was it all sincere? I know the Komsomol leaders sent their high-ranking guys to monitor the hockey team? 

Tretyak: These guys were great. They did not impose anything on us, we just became friends. And they paid a lot of attention to us. They would organize great concerts and meetings with famous heroes. 

ND: Didn’t they put pressure on you?

Tretyak: No, they only encouraged us to make a lot of public appearances. And now, in hindsight, I feel it was a good thing. We would speak to kids and meet with hockey fans. As a result, people loved us. I do not see anything wrong about that.

ND: Vladislav, you would agree that back then the hockey players – while not millionaires – still lived well? I remember how in the late 1970s your red, foreign-made car was the talk of the town and drew crowds.

Tretyak: It was yellow, actually, a yellow two-seater Toyota. I got it in 1976 when I was named the best player at the Cup of Canada. I was sitting in front of a TV and I heard: “The jury has awarded Tretyak a Toyota.” Can you imagine? I went nuts. To get a car back then, let me tell you... Especially a car like that. They shipped the car over to Russia and at first they imposed a hefty import duty duty on it: R8,000. I said, “I can’t afford to pay that kind of money.” That was quite a sum back then. But then the Soviet Ministry of Foreign Trade allowed me to receive it duty free, provided I would not sell the car for five years. Boy, did I drive fast around Moscow!

ND: And what kind of car do you have now?

Tretyak: I have a state-provided car, a BMW, as chairman of a State Duma committee. 

ND: Many great and famous players who played with you did not have such good post-hockey lives. Things did not work out for them the way they should have. Some representatives of your generation... are even all washed-up. And the damned vodka is not the only factor. Life did not treat them kindly. And such a phenomenon is not limited to hockey. What is it with this post-sports life? What breaks people’s backs?

Tretyak: Back then, the main reason for it was that they were unrequited in their post-hockey lives. The State forgot about its heroes. Sometimes when, on a foreign tour, we would not eat enough. We would bring along dry smoked sausage with canned food and would renounce many things. We had the same saving mania that our parents and babushkas did, so we saved up our per diems – sums which today seem like a pittance to modern hockey players. And then all our savings went up in smoke with the new economic reform. What was left from all our savings? Just enough to dine out once or twice. We earned fame for our country, but then were forgotten and useless. We had illnesses and injuries and, on top of that, no money. And then along comes perestroika, which brought about tremendous changes. Many of our guys who were great and strong-willed on the skating rink, did not hang on.

ND: And how did you hang on? 

Tretyak: I was serving in the Soviet Army, I was running the international division at the Sports Committee. For 12 years, I was also a member of the Commission of Athletes at the International Olympic Committee. But after 1990, when I resigned, I found myself unemployed. Then the Canadian firm Bombardier invited me to represent it in Russia. I was not selling anything. I was just the face of Bombardier’s snowmobiles. Then I was a consultant to hockey goal-tenders in Chicago. I would go there 2-3 times a year for a couple of weeks to hold training sessions, and then I would leave. Back then, mind you, no one ever offered me any sort of job in Russia. Even to me! (I am sorry if that does not sound very humble.) So what about other [less famous] former hockey players?!

ND: Weren’t you offered a full-time job as an NHL coach?

Tretyak: Yes, they did offer me a job as a goalie coach, as well as permanent residence, but I flatly refused, even though many people to this day are certain that I worked in Canada. No, I have never lived or worked there full-time. I have always lived in Russia only and nowhere else. I have my house and my family here. 

ND: You also had lots of female fans. And, just like any celebrity, you were always in the press and gossip spotlight. Yet all those years, there have been no rumors or gossip about any extramarital affair... As far as I know, you married your wife Tatyana quite young...

Tretyak: Yes, I married her before the 1972 NHL Super Series. We have already marked our 33rd, sorry, our 34th marriage anniversary. And, I must say, I am quite happily married. 

ND: And what about temptations? 

Tretyak: There are always temptations. You just have to resist them. 

ND: You mentioned the NHL Super Series. What sports event was the most important for you? Sorry, if I kind of prompted the answer...

Tretyak: No need to prompt anything. Of course, it was the 1972 NHL Super Series.

ND: The one played here in Moscow?

Tretyak: No, the first part of the series played in Canada. We arrived in a totally different country and before the match we stood on the ice for something like 15 minutes... We saw  how the NHL players were loved and venerated. The Canadians had gathered together all their best stars.

ND: Did you feel jittery?

Tretyak: Yes, we did. Especially in the first minutes. We sort of fell into a mousetrap. The rink was smaller, so they made us run like a shepherd herds a cow. The puck was flying around like crazy. The guys asked me later: “How’re you doing?” And I didn’t remember anything. I just recall that I was focused only on the game. They played hockey so close to the goal that after the first ten minutes we were down 0-2. I thought, “It’s over.” They would beat us and rough us up too. But our guys held firm. We got our act together and beat them 7-3. 

ND: Indeed, you knew how to get your act together back then. How did you do it?

Tretyak: Well, we had true leaders on the team. Like Mikhailov, Yakushev, Kharlamov, Petrov. They could inspire the other guys when the going got tough.

ND: And who were your closest friends?

Tretyak: The other goalies. And I made friends with forwards Vladimir Shadrin and Alexander Yakushev.

ND: Why with them – after all, they are from Spartak [CSKA’s rival]? 

Tretyak: I don’t know. Actually, sometimes we would clash with these Spartak guys on the ice at USSR Nationals and they would say to me, “Come on, Vladik, take it easy!” But there are no friends on the ice. 

Yet in our life outside the rink we were friends. Because I kind of got bored with my fellow players from CSKA, as we were doing the same thing year after year. And some of the Spartak guys and I had common interests. With Alexander Maltsev from Dinamo I played in the juniors back in 1967. And Maltsev was a big friend of Kharlamov. In fact, I had normal relationships with all the other players.

ND: Vladislav, let me ask you openly, why, on top of all your other “hats,” are you now wearing the hat of Russian Hockey Federation chairman? Aren’t you tired of these bureaucratic jobs, these red carpets? What else can you add to your world fame? And you are putting your name at stake. For if Russia doesn’t win anything in hockey within a couple of years, you will be blamed, just like your predecessors. Why do you need this? 

Tretyak: Personally, I don’t need it. But I do have an opportunity to help our hockey. I was entrusted with this post, I was elected and I want to prove to myself and to our people that we can do it, we can raise the level of Russian hockey. Today it is extremely difficult, but it is doable. We have just 147 hockey rinks [in Russia] versus 2,500 in North America. But still, we can fight. Sure, I had it all, I can’t add any more awards. But our hockey surely can.  -RL