Although figure skating is seemingly the polar opposite of ice hockey, some of the two sport's most reknowned coaches share a bond that goes beyond a genetic lineage--it is a love of sport and dedication to their students.
Dictators at the Rink:
"My parents gave me my professions, as they gave me my life. Everything comes from family. I always saw before me a striking example of fantastical devotion to one's profession – one provided by my father," famed figure skating coach Tatiana Tarasova recalled in an interview in 2003.
The name Tarasov is common, but Tatiana Tarasova is the daughter of Anatoli Tarasov, who many consider "the Father of Russian Hockey". Much like the country he lived in, he adopted a dictator-like coaching style that emphasized physical conditioning. Players were run to the ground in his army-like style training methods. His daughter, a task master herself, believed talent is one thing, but everything else depends on industriousness and good old fashioned hard work.
In order to mirror the communist philosophy and create a style of hockey that was so uniquely Russian--and not Canadian-- he emphasized team dynamics. In an individual sport like figure skating, team dynamics are irrelevant, but it is interesting to note that Tarasova trains her skaters in groups.
If there's one word you could use to describe Tatiana Tarasova--it is theaterical. Tarasova's facial expressions often tell the whole story of her student's performance. At times, you don't even have to look at the student skate, just look at her face. Tarasova is known for being loud in practice but all smiles and over exuberant hugs in the Kiss & Cry. The more subdued reactions are the worst fears of skaters--they're the tell-tale sign that they have embarrassed their coach. The same is true with famous ice hockey coach, Anatoli Tarasov. His former players describe his moods as most awful when he's overly polite or curt after a bad performance.
Although many articles are quick to point out how Tarasova's methods are modeled off her fathers, Tarasova has never claimed to be on his level. He was always her father, first and foremost, and when it came time for Tatiana to be a coach she refused to be in the same rink as him. For a woman who is proud enough to go toe to toe with Putin, the respect for her father is evident in her decision to train her skaters at a different rink farther away from the Central Army rink he trained his players at. Tarasova was too afraid of being an embarrassment to the one man she listened to. Even after she coached numerous World and Olympic champions, he would not let her--or maybe she never had the courage to ask--see the hundreds of exercises and training methods he compiled in his various notebooks.
In interviews, when Tarasova recalls her father, she always remembers him writing in his notebooks. "Every day beginning at 5 am, he was writing. He never gave me this list of exercises that he was developing all of his life. He thought that I was not worthy of that list since I have not done much in my life," she recalled.
Tarasova was not as close to her father as he was to his players, which is probably due to a resentment of Tatiana being born a girl and not a boy. He wanted a son to mold into a "perfect" hockey player in accordance to his methods, but never had the chance to do so. Such a mindset is evident when Tarasova retired at the age of nineteen from figure skating, only to be forced into a sports academy when her desires pointed otherwise.
"I dreamed of studying at the choreography school of GITIS, but dad said there won’t be no artists in our family, so I went to the physical culture institute instead," she said in an interview with
Ironically, she somehow was allowed to marry a pianist. I wonder how good ol' dad felt about that one.
An Unwillingness to Back Down:
Philladelphia Flyers' manager Fred Shero's favorite story about Tarasov came during Tarasov's early years as a coach. Soviet premier Joseph Stalin appointed his son, Vasily, to oversee the national hockey program that Tarasov coached.
Vasily, who knew little to nothing about hockey, immediately began to abuse his powers. Over Tarasov's objections, he used to come into the locker room, ranting and raving at the team to play better. He also tried to tell Tarasov which players needed to be removed from the lineup, how to conduct practices better and how his game strategies were flawed.
Very quickly, Tarasov became fed up. Never one who was afraid to speak his mind -- even to a relative of Stalin's who had been appointed his boss -- Tarasov asked for a meeting with Vasily. Dispensing quickly with the pleasantries, Tarasov got right to the point.
"Remove me as the coach if you want, but I can't work this way and neither can my players," he said. "A coach has to be in control -- sole control -- of how he trains and uses his players, and the players can't be distracted from the games by a lot of nonsense. If you want me to stay, then I need you to back off and trust me to coach the right way."
Independence and unwillingness to bend over irritates some:
In an interview with World and Olympic judge, Chuck Foster with The Skating Lesson, he recounted a recent tale of Tarasova's bullheaded qualities. On a trip to the Ice Dome in Sochi for a test event, the bus transporting the skaters came to a halt. Tarasova, easily angered, waltzed off the bus and walked straight up to the car causing the traffic jam. The driver and her exchanged words until Tarasova, fed up, demanded to know the identity of the driver.
"I'm Tatiana Tarasova, and who are you?"
"I'm the mayor of Sochi!"
Such a statement did not scare Tarasova away, who continued to argue--or kiss ass--to the mayor and a Vladimir Putin, who was sitting at the back of the car. Such a story seems far-fetched, but is not hard to believe when you realize she is the daughter of Tarasov. She is from a family who will stop at nothing to prove they are right regardless of all logic or the political powers that be.
During his time as the head coach of the USSR National Hockey team or his club, CSKA Moscow (also known as the "Red Army"), Tarasov became not only a sports power, but a political power as well.
Robert Edelman, sports historian and journalist, described Tarasov as "a human volcano in terms of emotions, a very irascible coach, difficult for those working under him to work with and perhaps more importantly and difficult for Tarasov in the long run, difficult for those over him to work with as well. He was constantly giving grief to the various ministers of sport and all the rest about demanding this and demanding that. At the same time, he had tremendous commitment to establishing his stamp on the Soviet game throughout the entire Soviet Union."
His work did build up his reputation as indisputable. However, his untouchable reputation only lasted as long as his victories. The Soviet Union could not fire him as long as he was winning so when he went up against the Canadian National hockey team in the 1972 Summit Series, his job was lost the minute the Canadians won.
Judging by Sotnikova's victory at the Russian Nationals last week, Tarasova still has political power. However, there have been times when she has fallen out of favor with Vladimir Putin and his officials.
Her Father's Legacy, in Tarasova's Eyes:
Only in the 1992 Olympics in Albertville, where ice dancers Marina Klimova and Sergei Ponomarenko became champions, did Tarasov put his daughter on the same level as himself. When Tarasova came home to her childhood Moscow home, her father met her at the door with a “hello, colleague” for the first time in her career, only after coaching her fourth Olympic champion.
To this day, Tarasov won three Olympic golds as head coach of the Soviet Union National Hockey Team and won ten world titles, but his daughter has eleven Olympic champions.
Although Tarasov may not have been the most present father, Tarasova still idolizes him somewhat blindly. She describes him as a "genius" who dedicated his life to a sport he built in the Soviet Union, but never mentions how he may have to put his work before his family.
"Dad never came to my practices, but then one time… That day I was slightly late for a lesson with Ira Rodnina, so I ran out onto the rink without my skates. I am walking across the ice in my boots, but then suddenly see dad in the stands. I went weak-kneed. Anatoly Vladimirovich silently came down, walked right past me, and closed the door behind him. He didn’t even turn his head, didn’t say “hi” or “bye”. He gave a silent treatment for a long time after that. For him, my actions were the height of unprofessional behavior.”
Not exactly father of the year.
