Coming Into Conflict -The Road To Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #1)

Sometimes I think the world is going all to hell. That humanity has plunged into an abyss from which there is no escape. And while the worst is yet to come, much of it is already here. There is the worst conventional war in Europe since 1945 due to Russia’s unprovoked invasion of Ukraine which shows no sign of ending anytime soon. There is the Israel-Hamas War which has the Middle East teetering on the brink of a region wide conflict. Relations between the United States and China are the worst since their reestablishment in 1972. The chance of a war between the two superpowers over Taiwan continues to grow. Abraham Lincoln said during the American Civil War that “If there is a worse place than hell, then I am in it.” The world is not quite there yet but is getting closer by the day. Many remain cautiously optimistic that we can be brought back from the brink of our own self-destruction. That remains to be seen.

A period of global instability the likes of which has not been seen in almost eighty years threatens to upend the established global order. The rules which have defined international relations since the end of World War II are facing an unprecedented number of major threats. The world could get caught up in a cascading series of crises that devolve into chaos. Once chaos starts, there is no telling where it will end. All the current geopolitical problems could expand into something much worse. Drawing more countries into a cauldron of chaos. All this makes me believe that the world is going all to hell. That is until I look back into history and see that the world has survived much worse. 

      On the brink – Teschen in 1918 (Credit: National Library of Poland)

Grave Danger – Bordering On Anarchy
When conversation turns to the worst periods in modern history, the First and Second World Wars dominate the discussion. They are the most striking examples of horrific history in relatively recent times. The focus on World Wars I and II leaves little room for discussion of other periods that were chaotic and dangerous. Just the other day, I came across a conflict that was symptomatic of a period when the world was suffering through a prolonged period of chaos. This made me realize that the current challenges facing us today could be much worse. It also made me realize that anarchy can quickly consume a once civilized world. The conflict I came across does not even merit a footnote in most history books. The Polish-Czechoslovak War (Seven-Day War) took place in January 1919. I doubt many people other than Poles, Czechs, and Slovaks have even heard of the war. I am sure that fewer of them have heard of it than other troubling events in their nation’s tumultuous 20^th century history.

I first came across the Polish-Czechoslovak War while reading Paris 1919 by Margaret McMillan. That book delves deeply into the messy aftermath of the First World War which resulted in a series of treaties that failed to bring lasting peace to Europe and the Middle East. When I came across the conflict between Poland and Czechoslovakia, I was surprised to find the two nations at odds with one another. They tragically became caught up in the free for all that accompanied disputed territories across Eastern Europe. The Polish-Czechoslovak war was small in scale and short in duration. Yet it would poison relations between two nations in dire need of one another after Hitler rose to power.

    Off to another war – Czechoslovak legionaries from France in Teschen

Grave Danger – Fighting For Supremacy
The inability of smaller states in Eastern Europe to ally in the face of grave danger had tragic consequences. The same kind of situation exists today with the Ukraine-Russia War. Smaller European Union member states such as Hungary and Slovakia are led by governments that either actively or passively support the Kremlin. Their recalcitrance in confronting the existential threat of Russian neo-imperialism could have serious consequences for not only Ukraine, but Hungary, Slovakia, and Europe as a whole. Eastern Europe is at an inflection point. It could either succumb to authoritarianism or lock in the democratic gains the region has made since the Iron Curtain fell. While Eastern Europe is in a dangerous situation today, this pales in comparison to the period that followed the First World War. Unfortunately, the region came out of that period divided and weakened. Efforts to create stability only served to increase it.

There are some nations in Eastern Europe which I automatically pair up in my mind as prone to cross-border conflicts. I base these upon their histories. Among them are Poland and Ukraine, Russia and any European nation with which it shares a border, Serbia and Croatia or Bosnia, Croatia and Bosnia, Hungary and Romania, Bulgaria and Turkey, Greece and Turkey. The list is long and riddled with wars, fractious relations, and border disputes. Two nations which I would not pair up in this manner are Poland and Czechoslovakia (Czech Republic and Slovakia). I always think of these two countries as the good guys of the period from 1918 – 1989. They suffered grave injustices due to communism, fascism, and nationalism. Yet it was the latter that caused trouble between Poland and Czechoslovakia.

Worth fighting for – Postcard of Teschen prior to World War I (Credit: Eduard Feitzinger)

Border Control – Dangerous Disputes
Eastern Europe was filled with numerous ethnic groups of various sizes. This was the legacy of large, sprawling empires that ruled over vast swaths of the region. Trying to decide which ethnic groups ended up in which newly formed nation in 1919 was a process fraught with difficulties. These decisions were not just made by the treaty negotiators back in Paris. Boots on the ground mattered just as much. In some cases, they mattered more. Economic interests, infrastructure, and natural resources further exacerbated disagreements over where to set borders. This all too often pointed the way to armed conflict. Self-interest over collective interest has always been a source of tension in inter-state relations. This was never truer than in post-World War I Eastern Europe with every nation focused on looking out for itself. With Poland reborn as an independent nation and Czechoslovakia a newly formed one, both were struggling to figure out how they would survive in the postwar world. This led them into armed conflict. In a remote corner of northwestern Slovakia, they fought for control of Teschen Silesia.   

Click here for: Opportunity Costs – Trying To Take Teschen (Polish-Czechoslovak War #2)

False Narrative – Ivan The Invisible & McEnroe The Martyr (For Love of the Game #6)

The traditional narrative of the 1984 French Open Final between Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe is that the latter blew the match. McEnroe had Lendl down for the count numerous times, only to let him get up off the mat to win an improbable victory. The match was McEnroe’s for the taking. If only he had not lost his temper at a cameraman in the third game of the second set, McEnroe would have won the French Open. The narrative portrays Lendl as a bystander. A human backboard who keeps returning shots until McEnroe self-destructs. In this telling, the better player did not win. McEnroe’s demons were what defeated him, not Ivan Lendl. This narrative is widespread and false.

Unforgettable triumph – Ivan Lendl receives the 1984 French Open trophy

Twisting The Truth – Revenge of the Losers

The losers write history too, and sometimes they get control of the main narrative. I know this all too well since I grew up in the American South where the Civil War is still being fought in the minds of many. The pages of Civil War histories are replete with narratives that state the Confederacy never really lost the war. This is a strange and lamentable phenomenon that began not long after the war ended. It still holds many in its grip. Another example is the narrative surrounding the Treaty of Versailles. The Germans have always portrayed the terms of Versailles as too harsh. This conveniently ignores the harsher terms they imposed upon Russia with the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk the previous year. Losing can lead to a powerful psychosis, one where the defeated work much harder than the victors to reconfigure the narrative in a way they find more palatable. This has happened with the 1984 French Open final where John McEnroe is the tortured genius and Ivan Lendl is mostly anonymous.

The famous Prussia strategist, Carl Von Clausewitz said that war is politics by other means. By the same logic, sports can be war by other means. A fine example is the rivalry between Lendl and McEnroe. The two men despised each other. Their games, personalities, and attitudes were complete opposites. They fought highly personalized struggles on the tennis court that had the same kind of passion and tragedy found on the battlefield. Their most famous battle was at the 1984 French Open, a day that lives in glory for Lendl and infamy for McEnroe.

Because he appeared to grasp defeat from the jaws of victory, McEnroe’s self-destruction makes for a compelling narrative. The fact that McEnroe has spoken in anguish about his loss that day on several occasions both in print and on television has allowed him to control the narrative. Lendl, on the other hand, treats his comeback victory as an important event, but not his most career-defining one. That would come later with his victory over McEnroe in the 1985 U.S. Open Final, after which his career soared to its greatest heights.

Almost great – John McEnroe in the 1984 French Open Final

On The Rise – Grit & Guile
Befitting the polarizing nature of the Lendl-McEnroe rivalry, the 1984 French final came down to whether Lendl’s fighting qualities and shifting strategy won the match or McEnroe’s self-destructive qualities doomed him. The accepted narrative is a McEnroe implosion. The more provocative and intriguing of these dueling narratives is that Lendl turned the tide and found a way to win the match through a combination of grit and guile. That is just what he did. By the third set Lendl had managed to work his way back into the match. McEnroe’s tempestuous behavior was a reaction to this. Though ahead two sets to none, McEnroe knew he needed to put Lendl away while he had the chance. The fact that Lendl kept coming back only increased the pressure. The most famous example of McEnroe’s self-destruction was when he screamed into a cameraman’s earpiece at 1-1 and up 0 – 30 on Lendl’s serve. He went on to lose the game. This moment was only one of many that turned the match’s tide.  

An even more crucial moment of the match occurred in the fourth set. McEnroe was up a break of serve at 4 – 3. He had a game point for 5 – 3 and was only five points away from the title. McEnroe got his first serve in, but Lendl forced an error.  The Czech would win four of the last five points of the game by forcing errors or hitting winners with his forehand. It was not like McEnroe was dumping balls in the bottom of the net. Lendl elevated his play at a key moment. This happened multiple times during the match.

The narrative that tends to focus on McEnroe’s self-destruction emphasizes that he missed a lot of first serves in the final three sets. Those misses were caused as much by Lendl’s heavy returns as McEnroe’s faltering play. When McEnroe managed to get into the net, he was confronted by Lendl’s laser-like passing shots or penetrating lobs which forced McEnroe to back away from the net by several inches. In a match decided by a razor thin margin, the doubt sown by Lendl’s lobs was crucial. They made McEnroe much less decisive at the net. Lendl broke McEnroe’s serve to win the fourth set 7 – 5 with a brilliant crosscourt forehand lob. 

Comeback complete – Ivan Lendl wins the 1984 French Open

Power & Glory – The Comeback
McEnroe’s last best chance came at 3 – 3 in the fifth set when he was up 15 – 40 on Lendl’s serve. This time McEnroe did commit two unforced errors during rallies, but it is interesting to note that Lendl’s final shots in both rallies were forehands. With the game back at deuce, Lendl then unleashed two forehand winners. McEnroe would barely hold on until he lost his serve and the match in the twelfth game of the fifth set. The cumulative weight of Lendl’s powerful groundstrokes and tactical adjustments proved decisive. In the final set, Lendl lost only six points on his serve. McEnroe lost fifteen. It is a miracle that McEnroe held on for as long as he did. Reading retrospective accounts of the match, the focus is always on McEnroe’s failure to finish. While he has himself to blame in some cases, in many more it is Lendl’s consistently high level of play that decided the match. This is not the popular narrative for one of the greatest comebacks in tennis history, but it is a factual one.

Czech Mated By An American Express – Lendl & McEnroe Act One In Paris (For Love of the Game #5)

I never had an interest in theater and only played bit parts in a few forgettable productions in elementary school. There is enough drama in the world without having to act it out in fictional form. In my opinion, the greatest dramas are not found in the cinema or on the stage. They can be found in sporting arenas like Court Centrale at Roland Garros in Paris. An excellent example of this is the 1984 French Open final between Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe that took place at Stade Roland Garros. On June 10, 1984, Court Centrale burned bright beneath a fiery sun. Half a world away, my brother and I sat transfixed by four hours and four minutes of high drama. The men’s final was a spectacle from which we could not avert our eyes. A diabolical drama that reverberated across six time zones, thousands of kilometers, and an entire ocean. A coming-of-age tale so fraught with tragedy that to this very day one of its participants says he gets sick to his stomach just thinking about it.

Coming apart – John McEnroe during the 1984 French Open final

Masterful McEnroe – The Art Of Tennis
John McEnroe was close, closer than he might have imagined before the match began at 3:26 p.m. Playing on his worst surface, in a tournament where he had never made it past the quarterfinals, McEnroe found himself up two sets to love after just an hour and five minutes. His lead was the product of sensational tennis, the likes of which had never been seen from an attacking player at the French Open. In McEnroe’s first ten service games of the match, he surrendered a total of ten points. What many thought would be a hard-fought contest of contrasting styles was turning into a romp. By the time McEnroe took the second set, the match was a mere hour and five minutes old. This was a level of sublime dominance that even by his lofty standards was fantastic.

The combative American was at the height of his powers. His serve was scorching the lines. When Lendl served, McEnroe counterattacked with lethal precision. A decisive approach would be followed by a quick put away or soft as a feather drop volley. At the net, McEnroe was blowing bubbles with his racket and creating angles that redefined geometry. This was tennis as art.  Lendl had not been forewarned. The two top players in the world had already met five times in 1984. Lendl managed to win a single set. In the weeks leading up to the French Open, they had played twice on clay. Games, sets and matches, McEnroe. In one of those matches, the final at WCT Forest Hills, Lendl had beaten Jimmy Connors 6-0, 6-0 in semifinals. It was the first time Connors had ever been double bageled. The next day, Lendl could only win six games and lost twice that amount against McEnroe. Lendl was not the only one suffering at the hands of McEnroe. By the time they played in Paris, McEnroe had won all 39 of his matches in 1984. A fortieth victory looked less than an hour away.

Unfriendly rivalry – Ivan Lendl & John McEnroe

Unrealized Potential – On The Edge of Defeat
Ivan Lendl was far, farther away then he could have ever imagined. Playing on his best surface, in a tournament he had nearly won in 1981 against the greatest clay court player up to that point in history, Lendl was at a loss on how to combat McEnroe’s brilliance. That this was happening on clay made it both frustrating and perplexing. Lendl was being dominated in a way he had never experienced on clay. With an opportunity to win his first singles title at a Grand Slam tournament after losing his first four major singles finals, Lendl was getting routed. He had the potential to be the greatest men’s tennis player from Eastern Europe in history and one of the greatest of all time, if only he could win a Slam. Lendl had gained a reputation as a choker on tennis’ biggest stages.

It was said that Lendl could win any tournament except the four majors (French Open, Wimbledon, U.S. Open, and Australian Open) that mattered most. He had won 39 titles and zero majors. Lendl had played second fiddle to Borg three years earlier on the same court at Roland Garros. The past two years he had suffered the same indignity at the hands of Jimmy Connors in the U.S. Open. And only six months before, Mats Wilander had decisively defeated Lendl in the Australian Open final. Now he was being destroyed in another final, this time by McEnroe. In Lendl’s defense, no one could have beaten McEnroe during the first two sets. Nevertheless, Lendl was still the best equipped to fend off McEnroe’s advance. During his first years on tour, Lendl’s power was too much for McEnroe to handle. After losing his first two matches to McEnroe, Lendl went on a run of seven consecutive wins. That run started with a straight set victory during the quarterfinals at Roland Garros. Coming into the 1984 French Open Final, Lendl had lost only one set in six matches. Now he had lost twice that many in a little over an hour.  

Finding his way – Ivan Lendl at the French Open

“Shut up” – A Moment of Rage
By the beginning of the third set it looked like Lendl would be reduced to saving face. It was going to take an incredible turn of events for the match to turn in his favor. Lendl was not choking, but he was also not playing well.  He was trying to find some way to get back into the match. The notoriously temperamental McEnroe would help him out. Before the match began, McEnroe made some comments to cameramen and photographers beside the court. The perfectionistic McEnroe was extremely touchy about the slightest noise, even at the best of times. And what time could be better than a two set to none lead over Lendl in the French Open Final. In the third game, a crack suddenly appeared in McEnroe’s mental game. At 1 – 1 and up 0 – 30 on Lendl’s serve, McEnroe was on the verge of rendering the knockout blow. Then, at precisely 4:40 p.m., an hour and 14 minutes into the match, McEnroe strode over to a cameraman and yelled “Shut up!” into his earpiece. That was the moment everything began to change.

Click here for: False Narrative – Ivan The Invisible & McEnroe The Martyr (For Love of the Game #6)

War In Paris: Lendl Versus McEnroe (For The Love of the Game #4)

I once took a trip to Paris and it was not to see the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame. or the Sacre-Coeur. Nor did I go to Paris to visit the Louvre, Napoleon’s Tomb, or the Arc de Triomphe. I was not visiting Paris for a walk along the River Seine, the Champ Elysees or Jardins de Luxembourg. I was not interested in the City of Light or experiencing romance. French culture did not draw me to Paris either. I cared little about what food I ate. My only culinary need was to avoid starvation. The first thing I had for lunch was French Fries. They tasted just like the ones at home. My disregard for the most famed part of the French capital did not mean that I was anti-Paris.  On the contrary, a potential visit had intrigued me for the longest time. There was one good reason for that.

War in Paris – Ivan Lendl & John McEnroe during the 1984 French Open Final

Tears & Toil – The French
My first morning in Paris I was a man on a mission twenty-five years in the making. I would stay several days in the city, but nothing mattered as much as that first morning. If I only did one thing in Paris, it would be what had been first and foremost on my mind since I was child sitting on my mother’s bright red sofa staring at a three-channel television the second Sunday in June. After way too much coffee, I took the Metro from Belleville station near where I was staying to Porte D’Auteuil station. I then skirted the Bois De Boulogne, a beautiful park that preserves a lasting remnant of an ancient oak forest. This did not detain me because I had a long-awaited meeting. I was going to visit Roland Garros. Please understand that this visit was not going to be in the flesh. The ace World War I fighter pilot died long ago in the same war that made him famous. Instead, I was going to visit the tennis complex named after him. Officially it is known as the Stade Roland Garros. My best friend and I always referred to it simply as the French.

The French was two words that conjured up thoughts of dramatic battles in the terre battue (red clay) that cakes the shoes and clothes of competitors locked in epic struggles for tennis supremacy. There is something enchanting about watching grown men and women play in the dirt. The dust and grime make the greatest of these matches more memorable. Tennis at the French is not of the whitey tighty type. Here, the gentleman’s game turns dirty. The clay runs red with the blood, sweat, and tears of those who toil for hours. The most powerful players in the world often find themselves reduced to slogging it out with dirt ballers born from this same soil in European and South American backwaters. The French Open brings together 256 of the best men’s and women’s tennis players in the world for a couple of weeks in Paris. Only two leave in triumph. The rest are left to lick wounds salted with grime. Their hopes were ground to dust.

Dramatic scenario – Court Centrale at Stade Roland Garros

Court Centrale – Ghosts of Greatness
The French is one of tennis’ four major tournaments and the only one played on red clay. It was my introduction to continental Europe. Prior to 1989, this last rite of spring had the added advantage that it brought together players from both sides of the wall. East and west met in Paris to do battle. Watching the French was my yearly meeting with sporting luminaries from Czechoslovakia, Yugoslavia, Hungary, the Soviet Union, and Romania. I was here to relive some of those memories after a quarter century watching hundreds of matches on television. My visit included a tour of the grounds. This included the opportunity to visit. Court Centrale, where so many incredible matches have been played by legends of the game.

Standing on the court, I was shocked by how small it felt. Maybe it was the stadium surrounding the court, or the large space beyond the baseline that made the court seem so tiny. It was hard to believe that so many titanic tennis battles took place in such a claustrophobic environment. All those great finals between Federer and Nadal, Agassi and Courier, Chang and Edberg, Graf and Hingis, Evert and Navratilova in a single space. And one final stands above all the others in my mind. In 1984, Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe renewed their rivalry in Paris. A rivalry marked by their dislike, bordering on complete contempt for one another. The two men were a study in contrasts. Icy glares and fiery tumult, raw power versus sublime artistry, the composed Czech against the combustible Yank. Lendl had very few friends and McEnroe lots of enemies. Lendl hailed from a communist state, McEnroe from a capitalist one. Yet they did have one thing in common. Each in their own way was an iconoclast.

Striving for Perfection – John McEnroe at the French Open

Aura of Invincibility – At The Highest Level
It has been almost forty years since Ivan Lendl and John McEnroe faced one another on a warm and cloudless Sunday in Paris. The final was billed as an opportunity for McEnroe to put twenty-nine years of American men’s tennis failures in Paris to rest. The last time an American had won the tournament was Tony Trabert in 1954. Since that time, one American man after another had been ground down and buried in the red clay. Roland Garros was American men’s tennis’ kryptonite. It reduced even the greatest American players to mere mortals. Jimmy Connors never made a final. Neither did Stan Smith nor Arthur Ashe. Brian Gottfried did and managed to win just three games off Guillermo Vilas. Games, set, and trounced. Now McEnroe was supposed to put a stop to this.

Standing in this way was the taciturn Czech, Ivan Lendl. He had grown up on clay and won many important tournaments on it. Under normal circumstances he would have been favored. In this case, the circumstances were anything but normal. McEnroe came into the tournament playing the greatest tennis of his career. Earlier in the spring, McEnroe proceeded to prove that he was up to the challenge of clay where traditionally he had been at his weakest. In the lead up to the French Open, McEnroe looked invincible and that included on clay against Lendl. He defeated Lendl in straight sets twice, first at Forest Hills and then in Dusseldorf. Lendl looked lost against McEnroe, but not for long.

Click here for: Czeched Mated By An American Express – Lendl & McEnroe Act One In Paris (For Love of the Game #5)

The Jaws of Defeat – Ivan Lendl’s Trials & Tribulations (For The Love of the Game #3)

Almost is not good enough. As in life, so in tennis. Grasping defeat from the jaws of victory can lead to a loss that even the best players never forget. The flip side is that the victor secures an unlikely victory. One that cements their legacy and lives on in the annals of the greatest feats in tennis history. They get to bask in the glory of their achievement long after they have retired from the game. In two notable cases, tennis players from Serbia and Czechoslovakia were involved in such matches Novak Djokovic and Ivan Lendl pulled off incredible comeback victories in matches that will never be forgotten by those who were lucky enough to witness them. Djokovic’s victory further cemented his legacy. Lendl’s victory was more improbable and offered tangible proof that he could win the biggest titles when it mattered the most.

Dramatic scene – Court Centrale at the French Open

Nerves of Steel – Fortune Favors The Serb
The 2019 Wimbledon Men’s Final was Roger Federer’s last great chance at the tournament where he felt most at home. In a hard fought, five set battle that was the longest final in Wimbledon history, Federer found himself with two match points against Djokovic at 8 -7 in the fifth set. At that point, was on the verge of winning his 9th Wimbledon and 21st Grand Slam title. Then fate intervened in the form of Djokovic’s never say die attitude which was reinforced with nerves of steel. Djokovic managed to save both match points. He then went on to break Federer’s serve to draw even in the fifth set. At that point, I had the stinging suspicion that Federer had blown his greatest chance of victory. I am certain many others must have felt the same while watching the drama unfold.

The upshot was that Federer never made it to match point again and Djokovic won the match 13- 12 (7 -3) in that final set. This was the first ever Wimbledon final to be decided by a fifth set tiebreak. Federer was 37 years old and never came close to winning the title again. The defeat left me, a lifelong Federer fan, severely depressed. I can only imagine how he felt. On the other hand, I could not help but marvel at Djokovic’s comeback victory. The Serb looked almost bemused by his good fortune. Of course, Djokovic managed to turn fortune in his favor. The great ones always do.

Djokovic is continuing to bolster his case as the greatest men’s player ever by amassing Grand Slam titles at an unprecedented rate. He now holds the record for most won and his winning ways show no sign of abating. Djokovic’s match with Federer was a pivotal moment in the careers of both men. One saving grace for Federer was that he had already won eight Wimbledon titles. He would have to do without winning a ninth. Another all-time great would not be so lucky. John McEnroe would suffer the most crushing defeat of his career at the 1984 French Open when he was defeated by Ivan Lendl. Lendl was the greatest men’s tennis player from Eastern Europe prior to the rise of Djokovic. His victory in Paris heralded his coming dominance of the game.

Escape artist – Novak Djokovic celebrating his 2019 Wimbledon title (Credit: Peter Menzel)

Guilty As Charged – Playing With The Enemy
Count me as one of the guilty. I spent the 1980’s cheering against Lendl. That put me in a majority with American tennis fans. Lendl was neither a character nor charismatic. He came from a communist country during the Cold War. A country that, depending upon one’s perspective, had a name that sounded either exotic or ridiculous. Czechoslovakia was on the wrong side of the wall. The division that ran through Europe also divided the tennis world. Ivan Lendl straddled that divide, but no one really saw it that way when he first appeared on the scene.

Lendl was a professional tennis player, first and foremost. That sounds simple. It was not. To Americans he could seem like a stand in for an authoritarian regime. Lendl’s on-court persona did nothing to detract from that image. This was especially true during the early 1980’s. While Bjorn Borg was the Iceman cometh, John McEnroe the picture of baby-faced frustration, and Jimmy Connors a bare-knuckle brawler. Lendl had his own signature look, the glare. He could stare right through an opponent. This was followed up with an arsenal of rocket shots that scalded the court. Lendl unleashed a forehand that could best be described as deadly. A shot of seismic proportions that struck fear into the hearts of competitors.  His serve was a close second. This one-two punch was enough to render the knockout blow.

Supreme focus – Ivan Lendl at the French Open

Under Pressure – Whatever It Takes
Lendl had other weapons in his arsenal that were equally effective. He was viewed not so much as a man, but a machine. Lendl played tennis with the utmost seriousness. He was the ultimate professional, always prepared, clever and calculating, ready to take advantage of any opportunity to gain an edge. Everyone took Lendl seriously. He left his fellow pros no other choice. To do otherwise would result in a sure defeat. Lendl was going to do whatever it took to win. The question was whether his opponents were up to the challenge. Only the very best could withstand Lendl’s withering assaults. It was impossible to outhit him. The harder the ball came at Lendl, the more ferocious his response. To combat Lendl’s onslaught, his toughest rivals used brilliance, gamesmanship, and Lendl’s sometimes fragile psyche against him.

Lendl had one flaw which proved fatal in the biggest matches during the early part of his career. He gained a reputation as being unable to produce under extreme pressure. This manifested itself during losses in his first four Grand Slam tournament finals. At a certain point, Lendl’s formidable weaponry deserted him. Lendl would overcome this through an iron will, dedication to physical fitness, He made himself into a fighter. Those qualities were never more apparent than when he fought all the back through sheer fortitude to win his first Grand Slam title in that epic final against McEnroe at the 1984 French Open. Lendl finally quieted his critics. Many of whom wondered if he had what it took to win a Grand Slam title. Lendl proved them wrong in dramatic fashion during one of the greatest matches ever played at the French Open.

Click here for: War In Paris: Lendl Versus McEnroe (For The Love of the Game #4)

A Blistering Pace – Ivan The Memorable (For Love of the Game #2)

In 2019, I visited Moravia for the first time. My main goal was to see Brno, the Czech Republic’s second largest city, which has an exquisite city center. Once that mission was accomplished, I longed to see more of Moravia, but a winter snowstorm made further travel by car unfeasible. One of the places I plan to visit when I return there is Ostrava. Though it is the Czech Republic’s third largest city, Ostrava is not high on the list of must-see cities in the country. It has a long history of industrialization spurred on by its proximity to the coal fields of Silesia. This led to major problems with pollution, especially during the communist era. A reliance on heavy industry during the communist era only added to the problem. Today, Ostrava is still one of the European Union’s most polluted cities. I am willing to overlook this fact out of curiosity.

Another triumph – Ivan Lendl celebrates a victory

Ferocity Versus Artistry – Straight Out of Ostrava
My interest in Ostrava is intensely personal and goes back forty years. That was when I first heard the city mentioned as the birthplace of Ivan Lendl. Over the ensuing years I watched Lendl play at the highest levels of men’s professional tennis on innumerable occasions. Most of the time I cheered for his opponents. Lendl’s game did not have the artistry of John McEnroe, his main rival who wielded his tennis racket like a magic wand. Lendl could not have been more different. He bludgeoned his opponents into submission with a blistering serve and ferocious forehand. Lendl’s game might not have been beautiful, but it was effective. Because he was constantly winning, Lendl was frequently on television. Across the screen at the start of matches his birthplace was always given as Ostrava. When driving in Moravia, I saw Ostrava on highway signs. The name instantly reminded me of Lendl.

It is hard to know exactly where to start with Lendl’s tennis career. Ostrava is as good a place as any. Lendl was born into a family of tennis players. Both his father and mother were accomplished players. His mother made it all the way up to second in the nation. Lendl built upon that legacy. Unlike his parents, his tennis exploits took him far from Ostrava. Lendl’s prodigious talent became apparent on the junior scene. He won both the French Open and Wimbledon Junior Championship. In only his second full year on tour, Lendl won seven titles. That same year he led Czechoslovakia to its first Davis Cup title in the premier men’s team competition. In 1981, Lendl made it all the way to the French Open final, stretching Bjorn Borg to five sets. That same year, Lendl set up a residency in the United States with the Polish top ten player Wojtek Fibak. 

Words of wisdom – Ivan Lendl coaching Andy Murray (Credit: Carine 06)

Overcoming Obstacles – Rise To Greatness
At only twenty-one years of age, Lendl was earning a fortune and travelling the world. He looked well on his way to ever greater achievements. There was only one cloud darkening his horizons. To put it simply, Lendl could not win a Grand Slam singles title. Those tournaments – Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, and U.S. Open, – separated the great from the good in men’s tennis. Lendl’s loss to Borg at the French Open had seemed to promise greater things to come at Grand Slams. After all, Lendl had taken the greatest clay court player in history (up to that time), to five sets. That near miss turned out to be a false summit. There were several other close calls that turned to disappointments in 1982 and 1983. By the time Lendl reached the French Open final in 1984 he had lost four Grand Slam finals.

A fifth loss in a Grand Slam final looked imminent when Lendl lost the first two sets to McEnroe in Paris. That was before he pulled himself back from the brink. Lendl came back to win by the thinnest of margins. This not only got the monkey off his back, but it was also his main rival’s most devastating defeat. It would not be until the next year that Lendl fully realized his talents when he resoundingly defeated McEnroe in the U.S. Open Final. From that point his game soared, and the results followed. Starting in 1985, Lendl would win 90% of his matches three years in a row. He went on to win eight Grand Slam titles and 94 tournaments on the Association of Tennis Professionals tour. Lendl rewrote parts of the record book. Over his career, he was number one in the world for 260 weeks, a span of time equivalent to more than five years. And yet Lendl remained unloved and underrated. He was never quite able to shake the persona of an automaton behind the Iron Curtain. This, despite moving to the United States for good in 1986.

Lendl was an intimidating person, misunderstood, viewed by fans as an unlovable figure who few openly cheered for. The best Lendl could expect was polite applause. Crowds did not adore him or his game, they tolerated it. This was especially true in the United States because Lendl stood in the way of greater glories for McEnroe and Connors. The most baffling part for spectators was that Lendl cared less what they thought. Whether they showed animosity or indifference, Lendl was motivated by it. He was on a mission to be the best and nothing was going to stop him. It was hard not to admire his work ethic and inner drive, but many did.

Man of many talents – Ivan Lendl (Credit: Charlie Cowins)

The Highest Ideals – A Career of Achievement 
For the longest time, I was ambivalent about Lendl. His game was raw power which did not endear him to me. He showed little emotion on the court except to argue line calls or raise his arms in triumph. Lendl was an impediment that the rest of the pros could not get around. He did not lose in the early rounds. His consistency was incredible. Lendl may have been unloved in America, but he loved it more than any of his detractors could have ever imagined. This showed up in his results at the U.S. Open, where Lendl made the final eight consecutive times. He would eventually become an American citizen.

Lendl was the consummate professional. He brought a level of fitness to the game by training to the point of physical exhaustion. No one could outwork Lendl, and few could out hit him. He was a self-made man who achieved results through hard work and tenacity. He represented the ideals of America much better than those of communist Czechoslovakia. Lendl may have been unloved, but that made him no less great. In fact, that made him better.

Click here for: The Jaws of Defeat – Ivan Lendl’s Trials & Tribulations (For The Love of the Game #3)

The Clay Ran Red – A Cast of Unforgettable Czechs (For Love of the Game #1)

“The hatchet faced Czech”, “stalking around the court like a vulture”, “the champion that nobody cares about.” I can remember each of those phrases being used to describe Ivan Lendl, the best tennis player in the world during the last half of the 80’s and into the early 90’s.. There was no love lost between Lendl and the tennis media. This was particularly true in America where Lendl was viewed with disdain by a majority of tennis fans. Compared to the angry charisma of Jimmy Connors and the volcanic eruptions of John McEnroe, Lendl was a picture of gloomy stoicism with an on-court persona that was all business. Americans love business, they did not feel the same about Lendl. He was the kind of glowering figure one might assume manned a watchtower along the Iron Curtain. Lendl was portrayed as the representation of a dour, humorless, robotic system. A crypto communist who came to conquer all on a tennis court.  

Serious business – Ivan Lendl playing in 1984 at a tournament in Rotterdam
(Credit: Rob Croes)

Hitting Hard – An Opening In The Iron Curtain
The popular image of Lendl was neither fair nor accurate. That did not matter to the media which wanted villains. While Jimbo and Johnny Mac pitched tantrums, whined constantly, cursed out umpires, threatened fans, smashed rackets, accrued astronomical amounts of fines and prolonged suspensions, Lendl was made out to be the bad guy. A gaunt figure with loads of substance and very little style. A master in administering blunt force trauma on the tennis court. Lendl was portrayed as imperious and intimidating, a man who took tennis way too seriously. He played to win, not to perform. The only leading role he sought was on the victory podium, a cold shoulder above his fellow competitors. This stereotyping of Lendl as a humorless, taciturn, automaton made an impression on my young mind. It would take me a long time before I warmed up to Lendl.

Thirty years after he left pro tennis, I look back at Lendl as a person who was not so much misunderstood, as wrongly portrayed. His dry sense of humor was one of the many fascinating idiosyncrasies of his personality. He was the ultimate professional, a man who worked ultra-hard for his money and managed to enjoy it. His influence upon the game was vast. He brought an emphasis on fitness, diet, precision, and power to tennis. The game as it is now played owes a great deal to Lendl. The phrase, “you don’t know what you got until its gone” applies to Lendl.  I long for his return and all those other Eastern Europe tennis players who I watched with fascination and fear in the 1980’s. This will always be the Golden Age of tennis in my mind. A great deal of this had to do with the players who stepped out from behind the Iron Curtain. They were intense and mysterious, inexplicable and eccentric. Lendl was one of many unforgettable characters.

Magical & mercurial – Hana Mandlikova at a tournament in Amsterdam in 1980
(Credit: Rob Croes)

Breaking Through – Leading The Charge
The 1980’s were a time when tennis felt bigger than what happened on the court. While the matches involved individuals, it was clear that the players were viewed by many as proxies for nations, ideologies, state sponsored systems and patterns of behavior. One could learn a great deal by watching the drama unfold both on the court and off it. Growing up as a fan of international tennis during the latter part of the Cold War, Eastern European players loomed largest in this weekly drama that played at venues around the world. This was not something new. The influence of players from the region had been gaining steam through the 1970’s. Leading this charge was the Romanian Ilie Nastase, tennis’ all-time class clown. Nastase was blessed with incredible talent and suffered from character flaws that often proved self-defeating. He drove both himself and his opponents crazy. At one point, Nastase was the number one men’s player in the world. It was a testament to his sublime tennis skills. Unfortunately, Nastase had become more known for his behavior which reached new lows. This made him strangely popular. Nastase putting Romania on the tennis map.   

By the 1980’s, Eastern Europeans were synonymous with world class tennis. They were scattered throughout the rankings. This was as true for women as it was for men. The Hungarian Andrea Temesvari surged into the top twenty. Her game was good, but her looks were considered even better. Bulgaria which had never made any impression on the professional tennis scene was blessed with the Maleeva sisters. This trio of siblings (Manuela, Katarina, and Magdalena) camped out on the baseline, doing their best to provide the human equivalent of backboards. They climbed up the rankings and stayed there for many years, Czechoslovakia provided some of the best players, producing several female champions, one of whom still considered among the greatest female players of all time. Martina Navratilova was one of the greatest athletes to ever play the game. Her prowess at the net brought an attacking style to the women’s game that had never been seen before. She would 18 Grand Slam Singles titles, all but two of them during the 80’s. Navratilova still holds the all-time record for most tournament titles won with 177.

One of the best ever – Martina Navratilova at a tournament in the Hague in 1980
(Credit: Hans van Dijk)

Mercurial Magic – Mandlikova and Mecir
A couple of other players from Czechoslovakia redefined the word mercurial. Hana Mandlikova was extremely gifted. There would be sublime stretches in matches where she would look unbeatable. It was impossible to know just when Mandlikova’s magic would start or end. She seemed to have little control over it. When playing at her best, Mandlikova could blow even the best players off the court. At other times, her play was listless.  A beautiful and baffling player, Mandlikova was a threat to win anywhere. Finally, there was Miloslav Mecir, a smooth striding Slovak known as the Big Cat. His game wrong footed many a Swedish player to the point that Mecir became known as the Swede killer. The Swedes were not the only ones who were at a loss when playing Mecir. I can still recall Boris Becker saying that during warm-ups he wondered how Mecir had made it onto the tour. Becker soon found out when he lost to Mecir in the 1987 U.S. Open. Mecir would make it to the final that year before losing to Lendl. The latter was the dominant force in tennis at that time. His play and persona are worth a closer look.

Click here for: A Blistering Pace: Ivan The Memorable (For Love of the Game #2)

From Moscow To Sarajevo – An Olympic Sized Fascination (Rendezvous With Obscure Destiny #64b)

The Olympics. Those two words did as much as anything to stimulate my interest in Eastern Europe. It is hard for any sports fan who did not live through the Cold War to understand just how important the Olympics were in the competition for global supremacy between the United States and Soviet Union, the Eastern Bloc and the rest of Europe. And this struggle also had shades of gray with non-aligned countries such as Yugoslavia playing an outsized role as well. The Cold War was known for proxy wars and the Olympics were the ultimate proxy war. Superiority in sport was a proxy for superiority in ideological systems. The superpowers battled on fields in Moscow and Munich and ice in Squaw Valley and Sarajevo among many other places. There were amazing athletic achievements and the dirtiest of deeds. The Olympics were for more than national pride, they were for world dominance.

All together now – 1984 Sarajevo Winter Olympics Opening Ceremony

Manic Intensity – The Winner Takes It All
One way of establishing dominance in the Olympics was by hosting them. The host city gained an incredible amount of prestige. The Olympics were a showcase not just for the city, but also the host nation. The superpowers competed in this arena just as hard as they did in sporting ones. The Soviet Union struck first. By the late 1970’s the spirit of détente was already waning. The Soviets then delivered a fatal blow to it with their invasion of Afghanistan. The Americans were not going to respond in direct fashion with their military. Instead, the Carter Administration announced a boycott of the 1980 Summer Olympics which were going to be held in Moscow. This decision did nothing to stop the Soviets and kept hundreds of American athletes from pursuing their lifetime goal of competing in the Olympics. The boycott led to decreased interest in the games. The Moscow Olympics were one of the least popular in Olympic history and viewed largely as a disappointment. I can still recall seeing the boycott announced on television.

Earlier in 1980, the United States and Soviet Union had given me the first taste of the manic intensity caused by superpower rivalry when the American ice hockey team upset the heavily favored Soviet squad in the semifinals at the 1980 Winter Olympics held in Lake Placid, New York what was termed, “The Miracle on Ice”. The memory of watching that game will stay with me forever. The 1980 Moscow Olympics may have been held in the summer, but the only image I can recall from them is Leonid Brezhnev with his usual gray and grim personality. Brezhnev looked like the kind of man who involved himself in fixing games rather than playing them. Other than that, those Olympics, at least from an American perspective, were utterly forgettable.

The Soviets exacted their revenge when they boycotted the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. Like the Americans four years earlier, the Soviet boycott was the equivalent of an own goal. A self-defeating, reactionary decision that changed nothing other than keeping their athletes from competing. Watching those Olympics, I began to realize that the Soviets did not have an iron grip on those nations said to be within their sphere of influence. Romanian athletes kept appearing on medal podiums. Athletes from Yugoslavia also made their presence felt. In a world that was bifurcated between east and west, these outliers left me confused. By this time, I was beginning to realize that Yugoslavia was not in the Eastern Bloc. Earlier that same year, it had played host to the Winter Olympics, a landmark event which I still remember fondly.

Field of competition – 1980 Moscow Olympics Opening Ceremony

Winter Wonderland – Snow in Sarajevo
Winter is a magical time, especially when it is sprinkled with snow. Cover any scene with a thick frosting of snow and it tends towards the fantastical. Now imagine the impression that a city in an exotic land beset by a massive winter storm would make upon an impressionable teenager. This was how I first came to know Sarajevo. My fascination with Eastern Europe began in earnest on winter nights in February 1984. I, along with millions of Americans, sat starry eyed in front of the television and watched the Winter Olympics in Sarajevo. The name entranced me, it was exotic and easy to pronounce. Sarajevo slid off the tongue, sounding refined and gentle. This was the beginning of a love affair that I still have with the city. That love would be further consummated during a visit I made there in 2009, exactly twenty-five years after it held a memorable Winter Olympics

Those nights in February made Sarajevo a household name. Like many other Americans I knew nothing about the city when those Olympics first started. I knew only a little more about Yugoslavia. My main point of reference for Yugoslavia would come later that same year during the Summer Olympics in Los Angeles. That was when I discovered Yugoslavia did not follow in lockstep with the Soviet Union and the Eastern Bloc. They refused to boycott. Yugoslavia seemed to me a softer, kinder nation. It was communism with common sense. My positive opinion of Yugoslavia was first formulated by the Winter Games in Sarajevo. The city looked mysterious and enchanting due to the heavy snow which fell upon it. My most vivid memory is Jim McKay of ABC sports standing outside during heavy snowfall. The flakes swirled around him. The snow made Sarajevo seem magical. Here was a faraway city in an obscure part of Europe. This was, is, and always will be Sarajevo for me.

Taking a Leap – Promotion for the 1984 Winter Olympics in Sarajevo

The Opening Ceremony – Wild Weather
Snow and Sarajevo are synonymous in my mind. There cannot be one without the other. Ironically, right before the games were to begin there was a great deal of worry due to a lack of snow. The organizers knew they were at the mercy of the weather. In the days leading up to the opening ceremonies their worries increased. A snowless Sarajevo would have been a disaster for a city that had put an incredible amount of effort preparing for the Olympics. This was to be Sarajevo’s shining moment on the world stage. No one would be disappointed as a blizzard blanketed the city in snow.

Click here for: Once In A Lifetime – Yugoslavia’s Moment of Glory in Sarajevo (Rendezvous With An Obscure Destiny #64c)

Seeing Red – Hungary vs. Soviet Union: Blood in the Water (Part Two)

Some people say you can never go home again. That is not always true. You can go home again, just know that nothing will be the same. This was the situation facing members of Hungary’s Olympic Water Polo team in 1956. They would face a decision when the Olympics ended. By the time the Water Polo competition in Melbourne began, almost two months had passed since the Hungarian Revolution had ended in defeat. The passage of time was not enough to heal the wounds felt by members of the team who had left family and friends behind in a country where freedom was crushed beneath the weight of Soviet tanks. All were torn between returning to an authoritarian Hungary or defecting abroad.

In retrospect, the decision seems a no brainer. Why would anyone want to return to an authoritarian country when the prospect of freedom was as close as the nearest embassy. By leaving, they would risk never seeing family or friends again. Their hopes of playing water polo in international competitions would fade. Training for the highest levels of competition had been all these athletes knew. They would also lose the fringe benefits (housing, cars) that came with being an elite Olympic athlete in a communist country. Thus, a decision to defect would not be an easy one, but before that could or would happen there was a gold medal to win.

Blood sport – Ervin Zador after the Hungary-Soviet Union match at the 1956 Olympics (Credit: Olympic Photo Association)

Grudge Match – Fighting for Supremacy
In the 1956 Olympics, Hungary’s Water Polo team may have been the best in the world and favored to win the gold medal, but they would later admit to being distracted in the early rounds of the Olympic competition. That did not stop them from implementing a new strategy. The Hungarians packed into a zone on defense, then as soon as an opportunity presented itself, they would launch a ferocious counterattack. This strategy proved incredibly successful as they won their first four games by a combined score of 20 – 3 to get them through to the semifinals. The team’s newest star, Ervin Zador shined. He was a youthful addition to the veteran squad. Picked up from a local team, Zador quickly proved to be one of the world’s top players. The Hungarians would need Zador and all their skill as they prepared to face off against the Soviet Union’s team.

The Soviets were newcomers to the top echelons of the sport. They had not come anywhere close to contending for a medal at the 1952 Olympics, finishing seventh that year. The Soviet team had managed to improve since then by studying the Hungarians. The team traveled to Hungary, where they learned from the world’s best. This had already led to a fierce rivalry. Six months before the Olympics, Hungary played the Soviet team in an away game that turned into a brawl, both in the pool and the locker room afterwards. The enmity between the two teams grew after the Hungarian Revolution. The Olympic semifinal between the two teams would be a grudge match. Adding to the tension was a Hungarian expatriate community in Melbourne that was ready to pour vitriol on the Soviets as soon as they entered the pool.

Another battlefield – Water Polo match at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics

A Pool of Blood – Violent Tendencies
Ironically, while the Soviet team carried the label of bad guys going into the game, the Hungarians would be more pugnacious to start. Part of this was personal, the other part strategic. The Hungarian players planned to use insults that would infuriate the Soviet players. Their reasoning was that if the Soviets got angry, then they would lose focus on the match. The Hungarian players had an advantage in this respect. Schools in Hungary taught the Russian language. Thus, the Hungarian could taunt the Russians using their own words. The Hungarian strategy worked from the outset. The game had barely begun when a Russian player reacted to the barrage of verbal taunts. He would be the first of many players to spend time in the penalty box. While the Hungarians referred to their opponents using a range of expletives, the Soviets called the Hungarians “traitors.” The physical nature of the match was difficult for the referees to control. All they could see was what went on above the waterline which at times turned into a near melee. Under the water, players engaged in brutal kicks and punches.

The Hungarian squad stuck to their strategy and outplayed the Soviets, scoring four goals, including two by Zador, while allowing none. With a minute left in the game, Zador heard a whistle blow. When he turned to look at the referee, Soviet player Valentin Prokopov, who he had been trading insults with throughout the match, slugged him. The punch knocked Zador momentarily senseless. Blood started streaming from a cut just above his eye and poured into the water. The pro-Hungarian crowd outraged at this blatant act of violence charged out of the stands and surrounded the pool. Suddenly, the referees had a near riot on their hands. A crowd of 5,000 angry spectators was seeing red, both literally and figuratively. The referees called the game over. Police then escorted the Soviet players to safety. Meanwhile, a photographer snapped a picture of Zador with blood around his eye and streaming down his face. This iconic image damned the Soviets as the bad guys when it came to their treatment of Hungarians.

Headliner – Front page of The Sun newspaper (Credit: National Library of Australia)

Zador’s Fate – Magyar Martyrdom
Ervin Zador instantly became a martyr for the Hungarian cause. This would do nothing to heal the pain he felt in the coming days. He lost his opportunity to play in the gold medal match against Yugoslavia due to the injury. He could only watch as Hungary eked out a 2 -1 win to take home the gold medal. The only problem was that half of the Hungarian Water Polo team and associated delegation would not be returning home. Zador was one of those. At the gold medal ceremony, tears ran from his injured eye. Soon thereafter, he emigrated to the United States. Cold War conflicts cut short a brilliant water polo. The Hungarians may have lost the revolution, but they fared better in the Olympics. Their 1956 Water Polo team not only won a gold medal, in the process they won over the free world. For that, they will always be champions.

Click here for: After the Revolution – Hungary vs. the Soviet Union: Blood in the Water (Part One)

After the Revolution – Hungary vs. the Soviet Union: Blood in the Water (Part One)

The Cold War was a global conflict fought all over the world. The political, economic, military, and cultural spheres were contested spaces. On one side were the democratic capitalist countries led by the United States, on the other were totalitarian communist ones led by the Soviet Union. Try as they might, nations could not avoid taking sides. Even not taking sides, meant taking a side, hence the Non-Aligned movement. Eastern Europe was at the epicenter of this geopolitical tug of war. This was true both externally and internally. The enemy was within as much as without, especially when it came to communist countries.

Golden Boys – Hungary’s 1956 Olympic Water Polo team

The Sporting Arena – Spheres of Influence
Quite often, Cold War cultural battles occurred in the sporting arena, primarily at the Olympic Games. Many can still remember watching the Soviet Union defeat the United States in basketball during a highly controversial finish at the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich or the United States Men’s Hockey Team’s “Miracle on Ice” upset of the supposedly invincible Soviet team at the 1980 Winter Olympics in Lake Placid, New York. There were always suspicions about steroid use and blood doping (the East German women’s swimming team to name but one example) that added an element of intrigue. Judging of competitions in boxing and figure skating were often scrutinized. Many believed the fix was in if their side failed to emerge triumphant.

There were also times when a singular performance such as those of the gymnasts Olga Korbut (Soviet Union) and Nadia Comaneci (Romania) helped break down barriers and unify people in agreement that they were witnessing something close to perfection. Less often remarked upon was that many of the countries in the Eastern Bloc were at times competing as much with their own side as they were with athletes and teams from western countries. The most dramatic of these internal competitions occurred in a water polo match between Hungary and the Soviet Union at the 1956 Summer Olympics in Melbourne. A semifinal match of such infamy that it has become forever known as the Blood in the Water match.

Taking to the street – Hungarian revolutionaries in Budapest (Credit: ETH Bibliotek)

Uprising – Fighting for Freedom
During the final week of October 1956, the Hungarian Revolution broke out in Budapest. It began with a student revolt against the hardline communism that had been imposed upon the nation since World War II. The flames of freedom spread like wildfire throughout the city and soon tens of thousands were joining the movement to liberate Hungary from communist rule. After a week, it looked like the revolution would succeed as Soviet troops had been forced to retreat. Soldiers in the Hungarian army had either given their weapons to the revolutionaries or joined them. The members of Hungary’s Olympic Water Polo Team knew a revolution was in the works. While at a training camp in the mountains not far from Budapest, they could see smoke from street battles rising into the sky.

Before they could learn many details, the 100 members of the team left for another training camp in Czechoslovakia. This would be their final stop prior to departure for Melbourne, where the summer Olympics would take place amid an Australian summer. The Hungarian Water Polo team had no idea that the full fury and might of the Red Army had descended upon Budapest in the first week of November. The Hungarian rebels’ small arms and homemade bombs were no match for the tanks, artillery, and heavy armor of the Soviet forces. The revolution was crushed in a matter of days with hundreds dying in the fighting and tens of thousands fleeing abroad. Totalitarian rule was once again imposed upon the country as mass arrests of anyone who was even loosely connected to the revolution were soon made.

Pooling their resources – Scene from Hungary Water Polo match at 1956 Olympics

Golden Boys – Catching a Wave
Meanwhile, the Hungarian Water Polo team was sequestered in training. They would not learn what had occurred until their arrival in Australia. One member of the team who was fluent in English got his hands on a Melbourne newspaper. He read an article about the revolution being crushed aloud to the team.  Right then, many decided that following the Olympics they would defect rather than return to Hungary. All were worried what might have happened to family members and friends back home. While this served as a major distraction in their efforts to win the gold medal, it also fueled their will to succeed. It also set the stage for the match they wanted more than any other, against a vastly improved Soviet team, one that hoped to take away the Olympic crown from the world’s greatest water polo playing nation.

By 1956, Hungary and water polo excellence had become synonymous. The Hungarian team had won three of the last four Olympic titles and finished runner-up in another one. The Olympic golds were won both before and after World War II, under both left- and right-wing authoritarian governments. The world’s best teams were no match for Hungarian supremacy in the world of water polo. Coming into the 1956 Olympics, Hungary were the defending champions. They had dominated the competition at Helsinki in 1952 where they won seven of 10 games and tied in the other three. Their greatest competition had traditionally come from the Italian and Yugoslav teams. The Soviet Union was now beginning to show vast improvement. They had placed seventh at their first Olympic competition in Helsinki. Now they threatened Hungary’s reign as the world’s best.

Pooling their resources – Scene from Hungary Water Polo match at 1956 Olympics

Fighting Back – A Resistance Mentality
Any sporting competition between Hungary and the Soviet Union was fraught with emotion. Water polo, which is an intensely physical game, made it more so. Even before the Revolution, Hungary had been a less than welcoming place for the Soviet team. At one tournament, the crowd turned their backs while the Soviets were being introduced. Hungary may have been east of the Iron Curtain, but its people chafed under Soviet rule. There were not many ways that Hungarians could show their disapproval of communism, but sports were one of them. The water polo team channeled a resistance mentality to fuel their determination. The Hungarians might not be able to defeat the Soviet Union in a military conflict, but in an Olympic sized swimming pool they could meet any challenge.

Click here for: Seeing Red – Hungary vs. Soviet Union: Blood in the Water (Part Two)