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**panoo** · 06-10-2007, 05:39 PM

10 years ago, limo crash ruined Stanley Cup celebration
June 10, 2007
BY SHAWN WINDSOR
FREE PRESS SPORTS WRITER

The tree isn't there anymore. It has been gone for years. It wasn't much more than a mangled stump when it was removed -- some fans had stripped pieces of its bark to keep as a kind of macabre memento.

Still, the tree served as a memorial at one point, its base a repository for flowers, hand-written notes of prayer, candlelight vigils and all manner of ritualistic expression of sorrow so often found on the side of our country's roads.

Now, on the grassy median that splits Woodward Avenue just south of Big Beaver Road in Birmingham, there is nothing. There is no reminder that this sliver of grass was the site of Detroit's most notorious limousine accident.

This Wednesday, June 13, 10 years will have passed since that crash, 10 years since this region spilled into the streets celebrating a Stanley Cup for the first time in 42 years, and 10 years since that celebration was stopped cold after a limousine carrying two Red Wings and the team's masseur hopped a curb on southbound Woodward, veered into a pole in the median and smashed into that tree, leaving two of them in intensive care.

"It's amazing that a decade has gone by," said Wings general manager Ken Holland, who was assistant general manager under GM Jimmy Devellano at the time of the accident. "You get caught up in your own life, in your job. Days turn into months, months into years, and then you are looking back: Where does the time go?"

That is a relevant question as the anniversary approaches. For some, life didn't change much. For others, it changed beyond recognition.

From glory to tragedy

In the days and weeks that followed the crash, news reports began identifying the victims in the same pattern. The team's massage therapist, Sergei Mnatsakanov, was always the last one mentioned. It was understandable. He had been with the team only a year. He spoke little English. And he wasn't a star player.

He was injured nearly as disastrously as all-world defenseman Vladimir Konstantinov; Slava Fetisov, the other player in the back of the limo, suffered minor injuries in comparison and was released from the hospital in less than a week. In fact, he played and helped the Wings win the Cup again the next year. Then he retired. Fetisov is now the minister of sport in Russia.

But Konstantinov was the story. He was a fearless, intimidating on-ice presence entering his prime. Known for his nickname, Vladinator, as much as his devastating open-ice checks, fans couldn't fathom their adopted hockey warrior in a coma and hooked to a ventilator.

Two questions seemed to dominate: Would Konstantinov live? And, if so, would he play hockey again?

Mnatsakanov's story became lost in the shadows. Partly that was the barrier of culture, partly of language. And partly it was the family's choice -- Mnatsakanov was nervous around the American media.

But the therapist has a backstory, too. It began with the family dog. At least from Elena Mnatsakanov's perspective.

The masseur's wife was walking the family dog late in the evening of Friday, June 13, 1997. Her husband had been out at the Orchards Golf Club in northern Macomb County celebrating the Wings' Stanley Cup, which the team had secured with a sweep of the Philadelphia Flyers six days earlier. The gathering at the golf club was the last chance for team members to see one another before scattering around the world to their off-season lives.

Mnatsakanov didn't have to go far to his year-round home in Grosse Pointe Woods. He had completed his journey the summer before, in 1996, when he and Elena and his youngest son, Art, traveled from their home in Russia to watch his oldest son, Max, play in the Little Caesars Amateur Hockey League.

The family stayed at a hotel in Roseville. During the day, Elena and Art would hit a tennis ball against the back of a nearby Sam's Club or walk to a mall. Mnatsakanov began hanging out at Joe Louis Arena, where the Wings were in the middle of a playoff run. He'd been invited by Fetisov, who knew the massage therapist from his hockey days back in Russia.

Fetisov asked Mnatsakanov to begin working on him and was grateful to reconnect with someone in the States familiar with old world techniques. Soon, the therapist was working out the kinks for much of the team. The next season, the Wings signed him to a contract and the family settled in Grosse Pointe Woods.

"Hockey was his life," said Elena. "He had reached the top -- the NHL. He was very happy."

His first year with the team was a historic one for the Wings and southeastern Michigan. The Wings, led by Steve Yzerman and the Russian Five -- Fetisov, Igor Larionov, Sergei Fedorov, Slava Kozlov and Konstantinov, broke through four decades of frustration by winning the Cup.

So the Detroit region was still electric the night the team convened at the Orchards Golf Club. Everywhere, cars were festooned with Red Wing flags. Vendors hawked championship shirts and other paraphernalia at makeshift stands on what seemed like every street corner.

Suddenly, Detroit was Hockeytown. Everyone wanted to party. And so on that night at the club, many of the players and other team employees had made arrangements to use a limo service. No one wanted to take a chance.

Elena knew the team had taken precautions that night. She didn't think much about it as she left to walk the dog. When she returned home, she noticed a strange car in the driveway. Inside was a Wings official.

'Live today, live tomorrow'

The story of that night, and the decade that followed, finds its way into conversation in the bowels of Joe Louis Arena to this day. Holland, for one, thinks about the crash frequently.

"Sometimes, we sit around and reflect internally," he said.

And they wonder?

"Where would we be if we'd had a healthy Konstantinov?"

How could they not? Human nature, right?

On some level, it's no different than wondering if the Wings would be planning another parade if they had held their 1-0 lead in the last minute of Game 5 against the Anaheim Ducks in the Western Conference finals this season.

Mnatsakanov has questions, too.

What if the limousine driver, Richard Gnida, hadn't allegedly fallen asleep at the wheel (he later told police he blacked out)? What if he'd heard the pleas and pounding from Fetisov and his comrades who had noticed Gnida had nodded off? What if Gnida hadn't been allowed to drive at all because of his suspended license?

Sometimes Mnatsakanov begins sharing these thoughts with Elena, wondering about that night. She always replies sternly.

"That door is locked," she tells him. "What happened is not for us to judge. Only for God. Live today. Live tomorrow."

That mantra helped Elena get through the night of the crash, when someone from the equipment department arrived in her driveway to tell her Sergei was in the hospital.

When she got to Beaumont in Royal Oak, the whole team was there. Her husband spent the night in surgery as doctors tried to drain fluid from his brain.

When he was wheeled into intensive care early the next morning he was in a coma. Elena didn't recognize his bloated face. She didn't need to. His hands were the same.

"Magic hands," she said, "he always had magic hands."

She reached out to hold one. It was soft and warm.

"That's when I knew he was still here with us," she said.

Ten months later, he was released from the hospital, using a wheelchair, unable to move anything but his right arm.

Moving forward

FULL STORY

**panoo** · 06-10-2007, 05:43 PM

June 10, 2007
By HELENE ST. JAMES
FREE PRESS SPORTS WRITER
Editor's note: Story was originally published Jan. 31, 1998.

Their day began at 5 a.m. when Irina Konstantinov gently awoke her husband.

Today is the day, she whispered to him. You are going to meet the president of the United States.

She helped him shower, she shaved him, she dressed him in a sleek, black suit. She drove him to the airport, where USAir personnel waited to assist him onto the plane. And when they were seated and the plane took off, she started thinking about him.

Her Vladdie. The strapping young man she married. The man who became a star in the Soviet hockey system. The star with whom she and their young daughter fled in the dead of night to escape communism for an uncertain future in America.

Her Vladdie, who last season was recognized as one of the best defensemen in the NHL. A man who played such a tremendous role in the Red Wings' winning the Stanley Cup on June 7.

Her Vladdie, whose life was forever altered six days later when he, teammate Slava Fetisov and masseur Sergei Mnatsakanov were injured in a limousine wreck.

Her Vladdie, now a man who cannot walk without assistance. Unable to say more than a few words at a time. Unlikely ever to play hockey again. Fighting to live a normal life at a South Florida rehabilitation center.

As they sat on the plane, she felt proud for him, happy for him. This trip will be tough, she thought. But he is a tough guy.

By the time they landed in Washington, it was still early in the day. And hundreds of miles away, in Detroit, Vladdie's teammates were done skating and getting ready to leave on their private jet.

A loose group of guys excited to meet the president, but even more thrilled to see their Vladinator.

"He looked great," gushed center Kris Draper after he, Vladdie and the Wings had toured the White House on Friday afternoon. "He smiled and recognized us and was so excited. It's so great to see him."

"He's been recognizing the players, and saying 'Hello,' " right wing Doug Brown said. "And that's nice to see. He seems to be enjoying it."

A little later, they met Clinton in private. Coach Scotty Bowman related the first words Clinton said to Vladdie.

"He said, 'I like the look in your eyes,' " Bowman said. "And Larry Murphy said, 'You should see him when he plays.'"

About 5:15 p.m., Clinton addressed a packed crowd of players, coaches, NHL commissioner Gary Bettman, media -- and plenty of politicians -- in the East Room of the White House. Clinton commended the Wings for their 1997 championship -- Detroit's first Stanley Cup in 42 years -- and spoke highly of Vladimir Konstantinov.

When he had been wheeled into the East Room by Fetisov, Vladdie smiled from ear to ear. While others spoke, he sat with Fetisov and Doug Brown standing by his side, often looking down and squeezing his shoulder. Brendan Shanahan caught Vladdie's eye and a smile when Clinton mentioned a photo taken with Vladdie.

"I reminded him that I am term-limited in my present position," Clinton said.

"And I asked him to take a picture with me. I said, 'You know, you can't ever tell, I might run for office in Russia someday.'

"So he agreed to do it. I expect it to be in the papers in Moscow any day -- and I expect my popularity to soar as a result of it."

Clinton went on to congratulate the Wings for their championship year and to wish them luck in 1998. Bowman gave Clinton a miniature Stanley Cup with his name engraved on it.

Then, it was Steve Yzerman's turn.

FULL STORY

**panoo** · 06-10-2007, 05:48 PM

June 10, 2007
By JASON LaCANFORA
FREE PRESS SPORTS WRITER
Editor's note: Story was originally published June 17, 1998.

WASHINGTON -- He was wheeled through the concourse with 8 1/2 minutes left in the 1997-98

NHL season, no longer able to play, no longer able to walk on his own. His teammates, whom he used to battle with, the Red Wings, had a second consecutive Stanley Cup well in hand. A four-game sweep of the Capitals was a certainty.

It was time to head to ice level. It was time for Vladimir Konstantinov to celebrate.

He was wheeled slowly from the far corner entrance, where trainer John Wharton rushed out to greet him. The Wings were lining up to shake the Capitals' hands, the series ended with a 4-1 victory.

"Vlad-die! Vlad-die! Vlad-die!"

The MCI Center roared its salute, and the Wings gathered around their fallen teammate, the fearless leader, who was a demon on the ice for them one year ago, before he nearly died in a limo accident last June.

Konstantinov pulled a cigar to his mouth and raised his index finger. He, and
his buddies, were indeed No. 1. Again.

Captain Steve Yzerman, the Conn Smythe Trophy winner as playoff MVP, raised the Cup first, as he did last year, and then put it on Konstantinov's lap.

Everyone else gathered around for a group photo, Vladdie sporting his new 1998 Stanley Cup champions hat.

"This is Vladdie's Cup," Igor Larionov said. "I know he could enjoy it. He understood what was going on. He'll come back and walk again on his own. He'll lead a normal life. I know it."

Wharton said: "This Cup wasn't for Vladdie and Sergei, it was because of them."

The ninth Stanley Cup in the Wings' 72-year-history belongs to Konstantinov and Sergei Mnatsakanov as much as anyone. The former all-star defenseman and the massage therapist were robbed of their livelihoods, and nearly their lives, on June 13, 1997.

No one can ever take June 16, 1998, away.

The Wings became the first team to repeat since Pittsburgh in 1991-92, and the first team to sweep consecutive finals since the 1982-83 New York Islanders, and the fifth team in history to do so.

Yzerman tied Sergei Fedorov's team playoff records with 24 points and 18 assists and displayed unparalleled guts and passion every night.

Coach Scotty Bowman tied Toe Blake's record with his eighth Stanley Cup behind the bench.

Chris Osgood proved he was strong enough to back the team to the Cup, erasing memories of former playoff MVP Mike Vernon.

Nick Lidstrom demonstrated again why he is perhaps the best defenseman in the world.

And everyone else, from Joey Kocur to Kris Draper to Tomas Holmstrom, provided huge goals in between.

There could be a dynasty brewing in Hockeytown, with the nucleus of this
championship club locked in for at least one more season. But this night was not about looking ahead, it was about thinking back and remembering.

This Cup was an honor to the rugged defenseman, once perhaps the best in the world, who now needs help walking and feeding himself.

This Cup was an honor to Mnatsakanov, who will never walk again. He receives care now, no longer a caregiver.

Tuesday, Konstantinov and his wife, Irina, flew to Washington on a charter with the Wings' families. Tuesday night, his wheelchair was stationed in the second level, behind the goal the Wings attacked in the first and third periods. There he sat with Irina, behind a sign that read "WE BELIEVE, YOU BELIEVE" in section 116, so close to the number he wore for Detroit.

"I don't think any of the guys didn't recognize when he first appeared there," Wharton said. "We all knew immediately when he was first present, and I think we built off that moment. It was kind of a silent acknowledgment."

Wharton said he regretted that Mnatsakanov didn't make the trip; the two spent many hours together behind the bench.

"I really miss Sergei," Wharton said. "I really, really wish he could have been here. But we talked about it before the game and how he wants to be at the parade. And that would be the most proud moment of my career, to be able to share a vehicle with him at the parade. To do that would be awesome."

The Wings began slowly, as Washington attacked, then, in a matter of minutes, the home team dissolved into the same old Caps we've come to know in this series.

They struggled, unable or unwilling to shoot the puck. They generated no sustained offense. They didn't challenge. Didn't come close.

The Wings took 11 of 12 shots on goal in one eight-minute tear, and Osgood was at peace in his crease, isolated from the puck. The Wings fans in attendance, and there were thousands, roared with each near-miss. Midway through the period, the guy who cemented the Game 3 victory set up the Game 4 opening goal.

Fedorov played like he was taught back in Russia, skating the puck hard, turning, curling, spinning away from danger, and looking alertly cross-ice.

There he found Doug Brown, threaded a pass to him, and Brown slammed it between goalie Olaf Kolzig and the near post.

The Red Wings led, 1-0, 10:30 into the game, netting their first power-play goal of the series after 12 chances. The lead was small, but commanding: Detroit entered the game 12-1 in the playoffs when scoring first.

Larionov, Fedorov and Brown nearly broke the game open late in the period, then Martin Lapointe struck from the blue line, just 2:26 into the second period. Wings 2, Caps 0.

Irina Konstantinov jumped with glee, pumping her hands. She reached over to her husband, clenching his wrists and waving his arms in unbridled emotion. A chant of "Vlad-die! Vlad-die!" sprung up from the upper deck.

Caps forward Brian Bellows interrupted the display by banging in a rebound, making it 2-1 with about 12 minutes left in the period. It was a temporary disruption, very temporary.

Less than four minutes later, Larry Murphy, the former Capital booed derisively by the Washington fans, stood on the right face-off dot and beat Kolzig's glove hand. Now it's 3-1.

Irina bounced up and down, took off her white sweater and whipped it around her head ferociously. She high-fived the Red Wings fans one row in front. She could feel the victory.

Brown, with three goals and five points in the series, banged in Slava Kozlov's feed 1:32 into the third period, Irina went nuts again, and the finals were all but over.

"Vlad-die! Vlad-die! Vlad-die!"

It was coming from everywhere now.

The star was helped to his feet, acknowledging the thunderous applause by standing. This wasn't just Wings fans anymore, it was the entire arena.

Flashbulbs popped from every angle. Konstantinov was back where he belonged.

"It felt great when everyone stands up and cheers," Kozlov said. "Vladdie deserves that. We could not do this without Vladdie. We miss him on the ice for so long. It was good to see him back."

FULL STORY