Saw a few references to this on the list.  It just goes to show how
un-noticed NC$$ Hockey can be.
 
Begin quoted text
U-M's undercover champions: Hockey players like their
secret-agent status
 
By John U. Bacon / The Detroit News
 
ANN ARBOR -- Like two dozen other Michigan electrical
engineering students, Mark Sakala woke at 6 o'clock Monday
morning, went to North Campus and took an engineering
dynamics test. But as the professor passed out the exam, he stopped at
Sakala's seat, said
"Congratulations," and handed him the test.
Afterward, Sakala said he could have done better if he'd studied more. The
problem was, Sakala and
his teammates had been busy two days earlier defeating Colorado College 3-2
in overtime to win the
NCAA hockey title.
Darn the luck, anyhow.
A week after claiming Michigan's first NCAA hockey crown since 1964, the
players find themselves
in an odd situation: As a team, they've become the famous National
Champions, but individually they're
still the same bunch of nameless faces, caught somewhere between big-time
celebrity and small-sport
anonymity.
So be it. While college basketball and football players seem to live in a
world separate from their
classmates, the Michigan hockey team is a refreshing throwback to an era
when championships were
won by the guys next door.
What game?
In the middle of the playoffs, forward John Madden's English teacher saw his
letter jacket, and asked
him if he played a sport.
Captain Steve Halko's Euclidean geometry professor didn't get that far. When
Halko handed him a
travel slip for an away game, the professor looked up, surprised. "They
still have a hockey team?" he
asked.
Things didn't change much after Michigan won it all. On Monday morning,
Halko showed up at 8:30
for his macro-economics exam. Beyond a few whispered "Congratulations," the
weekend's big event
went unnoticed.
"It was business as usual," Halko said. "And that was fine with me."
Because the hockey players don't weigh 300 pounds or stand 6-foot-10, they
easily mix in with their
classmates around campus. Since they wear masks on the ice, they're rarely
recognized off of it. Said
assistant coach Billy Powers: "The kids waiting outside the locker room
don't know who signed their
programs until after they signed it. They don't say, 'There's Brendan
Morrison,' they read the
autograph and say, 'That was Brendan Morrison.'"
Their personalities draw no more attention than their looks. That might be
because half these guys are
Canadians, who are not known for their hubris.
It's just as well, since college hockey does not provide many chances for
self promotion. Michigan
football generates almost $15 million a year and basketball about $5
million. Hockey brings in $720,000,
with no national television contract.
The attention Mike Legg got for his goal against Minnesota (where he put the
puck on his blade and
threw it in the net lacrosse-style) took the team by surprise. "That's all
brand new to us," Powers said.
"Our kids still think it's fun, because we don't go through this everyday."
After Sakala's name was mentioned a dozen times on ESPN's broadcast of last
Saturday's title game,
one of his father's co-workers at Chrysler asked if he'd heard of this
college player on television with
the same last name.
Yes, Vladimir Sakala replied, he'd heard of him.
Horror show
If people around the state do not know who Mark Sakala is, it's a cinch that
the 7,000 fans who pack
Yost Ice Arena do.
"We've got sort of a niche," Powers said. "The hockey fans are hockey fans,
period. It's a tight, tight
group."
So tight, they've developed a dozen inside jokes they share at every game.
Games at Yost feature all
the ritualistic camp of The Rocky Horror Hockey Show.
When the clock strikes 1:10, the crowd always asks, "How much time is left?"
"There is one minute remaining in the game," the announcer says on cue.
"Thaaaaaank you," the crowd replies. The announcer sometimes plays along and
says, "You're
welcome."
The fans aren't as kind to opposing goalies. After a Michigan goal, the fans
point at the netminder and
chant, "It's all your fault!" When a phone rings in the scorer's booth or
the press box, they yell, "Hey,
goalie! It's your mother! She just called to say, 'You suck!'"
Small wonder opposing goalies were pulled in nine of 17 games at Yost.
It may be less glamorous than the football or basketball games, but U-M
hockey fans think they have a
lot more fun. And players in all three sports will tell you they're the
loudest, too.
The team, the team
They'll be even louder next year, when Michigan defends its title.
Ironically, it might have been the
players' anonymity that helped them finish the job this year.
Coach Red Berenson concedes that this was not his most talented team. Of the
eight seniors from
1993, for example, five played in the NHL the next season and a sixth played
on the U.S. Olympic
team before joining them.
But this team had two things more talented teams didn't: A disregard for any
title short of the NCAA
crown, and an apparent indifference to individual acclaim.
In the NCAA semifinals, Michigan faced defending champion Boston University
-- and dominated
them in a 4-0 victory.
"B.U. was a team of big names, but that's not what makes a championship
team," senior defenseman
John Arnold said.
Of the 23 players on the Michigan roster, nine arrived as walk-ons. In other
words, almost half the
team wanted to be at Michigan more than Michigan wanted them -- which speaks
volumes about
devotion.
Take Arnold. Several colleges expressed a strong interest in the Toronto
native, until he tore up his
right elbow. He was ready to go to a Division III school when his father
told him, "You're better than
that." Arnold started calling college coaches but got nowhere until he tried
Michigan, who had
recruited Arnold's teammate, Steve Halko.
"They asked me my SAT's and grade-point-average, they called admissions and
said, 'Welcome to the
University of Michigan.'" Arnold advanced from a walk-on to a full
scholarship in his final year.
Such trials have made the players unusually close.
"This team was more selfless than past teams," Berenson said.
Even recent hockey alumni agree that their teams were not as unified as this
one, often citing Red
Wings minor-leaguer Aaron Ward as an obstacle to team unity.
"No one's ever left out on this team," Arnold said. "If someone says, 'Can I
come along?' the answer's
always yes."
Perhaps because they were all in it together, they weren't as tense in the
finals as previous teams.
Sakala recalled that when Michigan made it to the final four in 1992,
"Everyone had the death grip on
their sticks. "This time we were dancing in the locker room before the
game."
Relief, not rapture
You'd think they'd be dancing afterwords, too.
"Red always says, Never get too high or too low," Mark Sakala said. "But
after this game, Red said,
'You can get as excited as you want.'"
Despite Berenson's go ahead, the predominant emotion was not rapture but
relief.
On the bus ride home from Cincinnati, everyone was too exhausted for
revelry.
"People just wanted to be by themselves to think about it," Halko said.
Arnold and Sakala sat in the back of the bus with their new trophy between
them.
"We were just looking out the window at a beautiful sunset," Arnold said.
"Then the stars came out.
We thought, Geez, how much nicer does it get?"
Later that night, back in Ann Arbor, some of the players made the obligatory
stop at Rick's, a popular
college hang-out. Aside from a few pats on the back and a round of drinks
from a Rick's owner who
fancies himself a hockey player, you'd have no idea the small group in the
corner had done something
special. You wouldn't even think to ask.
The quiet scene was a stark contrast to the mayhem which followed the
basketball team's Final Four
appearances.
The guys next door
The sense of Eerie Normality increased when the subdued celebration retired
to the campus home of
seniors Sakala, Halko, Arnold and Kevin Hilton -- two blue-chip recruits and
two walk-ons who've
become close friends.
If the NCAA decides to sniff around the U-M hockey program for illegal
pay-outs, the coaches should
take them a block from the rink to the seniors' house. Rest assured, not a
dime has funneled toward
decent furniture, maid-service or commercial rug shampooers. Their only
extravagance is a
softball-sized African Ridgeback frog that eats live mice. They got it from
-- surprise! -- some
fraternity members.
"There are a lot of memories in this old house," Arnold said, and one
suspects some of those crusty
memories are still around, growing mold. Forget eating off the floor; you'd
be advised not to eat off
their plates. One bedroom is so heaped with clothes, books, papers and other
debris that it could serve
as an archeological dig.
Their home is, in short, just like every other college house. Only the
broken sticks in the front lawn tip
it off as a hockey haven.
Perhaps nothing demonstrates how non-big time this team is than their fifth
roommate. Instead of
picking some jock-wannabe who'd worship the varsity athletes, they invited
Tom Bersano, an Italian
student whom Sakala met in an engineering class. Bersano is as friendly and
unassuming as he is
eccentric.
When Sakala introduced Bersano to his housemates last year, Bersano promptly
did a headstand in
front of the TV. "The idea is," one housemate said, "blood rushes to his
head without him having to
take a nap, which helps him concentrate."
Concentration is crucial when you only sleep 10 hours a week, as Bersano
does, in 15-minute intervals
every four hours. The only notes he's taken in four years of engineering are
contained in his well-worn
30-page, pocket-sized notebook, in hand-writing so small it could be used
for microfilm.
Bersano knows as much about hockey as his housemates do about his home town
in Italy. He
attended his first and only hockey game in January (in shorts and a T-shirt,
to strengthen his body
against colds) but missed the title game while studying in the library.
When Halko came home after winning the championship, he found Bersano at the
top of the stairs.
When he told him they'd won, Bersano said, "This was big game?"
Yes, Tom, this was Big Game, even if it was won by small names.
"These guys are real people," Berenson said. "That's what I like best about
this team. These are the
kids down the street who'll wash their dad's car, go out and play top-notch
hockey, then come home
and take out the trash -- and not think anything of it."
What now?
Although you probably wouldn't invite the Michigan hockey players for tea
with the Queen -- unless
Her Majesty provided razors and spittoons at the door -- their work ethic
and agreeable personalities
would encourage you to hire them.
Since 90 percent of the hockey players get their degrees, one of Berenson's
few concerns for his
players is that they don't spoil the joy of this accomplishment by embarking
on a disillusioning
minor-league stint.
"Sakala's one of those kids I hope never plays again," Berenson said of his
senior defensemen, a
walk-on who became one of the team's top five defensemen. "Why go through
all the disappointment
kids feel playing minors? He has nothing more to prove. You can't buy what
we had here."
Unlike college basketball or football, winning the college hockey title does
not bring wealth or fame.
When you point this out to Mark Sakala, he just shrugs and says, "We really
wanted to win it just to
win it."
Years ago, Sakala's father, a Czech immigrant, asked only that his son "do
something with hockey."
Sakala may not have become an NHL prospect or a big name on campus, but he
did do something
with it: he became an NCAA champion.
Even without a pro contract or endorsement deal, that's still worth
something.
Copyright 1996, The Detroit News
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