The Legend's Grandson

Viktor Tikhonov was, by any definition, a Soviet hockey legend. As coach of the USSR’s national team (known in North America as The Big Red Machine), Tikhonov led the squad for 22 seasons, winning three Olympic gold medals (1984, 1988, 1992) and eight world championships.* Meanwhile, on domestic ice, Tikhonov guided the Soviet Union’s best team, CSKA Moscow, to 12 national championships in 20 seasons.

Now, nearly 30 years later, another Viktor Tikhonov, the elder’s grandson, is also trying to etch his name in hockey history. With many Russian players like Tikhonov playing in the NHL, the 27-year-old says he has to work to maintain a balance between the Russian and American aspects of his personality.

“I still feel I’m a bit more Russian,” Tikhonov said, “but I know that my American is definitely up there. I couldn’t really put a percentage on it. But I’m definitely more than half Russian and a little bit under half American.”

Born in Riga when his father, Vasily, was coaching Dynamo Riga’s hockey club, the younger Tikhonov came to the US by way of Latvia and Finland. The family moved to California when Viktor was four, after Vasily took a job as an assistant coach with the NHL’s San Jose Sharks.

As a result, the first sport Viktor fell in love with was not hockey but surfing.

“I still go in the summer with some buddies down to Santa Cruz,” he said, referring to a town about 30 miles south of San Jose that has some of the best surfing in the US.

Hockey was never far away though, and Viktor began playing at age 6 for the Santa Clara Blackhawks.

“Back then, youth hockey wasn’t very big,” Tikhonov said. “There weren’t too many teams and it was really tough to get ice time. We had shorter practices. I got lucky because my dad would always take me to skate at the Sharks’ arena after their practices when the team was at home. Now there are three teams per age group, which is crazy. But it’s cool to see that develop.”

A series of coaching job changes eventually put the family on the move, first to Kansas City, then Kentucky, Finland and Switzerland. Making four transcontinental moves before the age of 11 taught the young Tikhonov to adapt quickly.

“Obviously, at first, it was really tough,” he said. “You get used to being in one place. Once we were settled in California for a good seven, eight years, you get used to your school, your friends, your house. It kind of felt like home really fast. That first move is always really tough. But once you get through that first day and meet the new kids, everything’s fine. The next time you do it, it just gets easier and easier.”

Then at 14, Viktor’s cultural education came full circle.

In 2002, Vasily Tikhonov accepted an offer to coach with his father, the legendary Viktor, at CSKA Moscow. That job provided an opportunity for young Viktor to bond with his famous namesake and to learn first-hand about his grandfather’s legacy.

Yet there was some trepidation.

“We had a bunch of Russian players on the San Jose Sharks,” Viktor remembered, “and they’d tell me stories about how tough my grandpa was, and how he disciplined guys. I thought, ‘That’s what’s going to be waiting for me when I get back to Russia.’” 

Viktor’s grandfather had a reputation for intimidating control. One of his stars said that Tikhonov had “no heart” and ran a “dictatorship.” When another star came off the ice after making a mistake, Tikhonov reportedly punched him in the stomach with such force that the player doubled over in pain.

Tikhonov’s players would train for 11 months while living in barracks and spending a lot of of time away from their families, since the Red Army operated CSKA and viewed its players as commissioned officers. Tikhonov himself served as a general and received the Order of Lenin – the USSR’s highest honor – for his coaching success.

“I remember that first day,” Viktor recalled. “I was definitely nervous. I think I could’ve made myself nervous. But once I opened the door and got into his apartment, he came over, gave me a big hug and picked me up. I realized that he’s a normal, loving grandpa. That’s the way it’s always been.

“We reconnected really, really quickly. He’d come to all my games that were at home in Moscow. He’d be in the stands for every practice we’d have – and he never, ever yelled at me or said anything negative. Not one time. That was pretty surprising.”

Young Viktor had joined CSKA’s youth squad and attended CSKA matches. At those contests, fans would honor his grandfather by chanting, “Tee-kho-noff, Tee-kho-noff!”

“I was blown away the first time I heard it,” Viktor said. “Hearing it every game was cool.”

Then the fans of the youth team surprised him during one game in which he scored three goals.

“They started chanting the same thing. They started chanting my name and I started looking around and thinking, ‘Oh, is my grandpa here?’ I looked up in the stands and he wasn’t there. So I thought, ‘Oh, cool, I guess that one’s for me,’” Tikhonov said with a laugh. “The fans picked that up during the season and every time I’d score, they’d chant the name.”

Viktor also recalled how his grandfather had an encyclopedic memory of the game.

“He would have his office by the locker room,” Victor said. “Usually, other coaches or old friends would come up and say, ‘Hi.’ There would be maybe four, five guys in his room, and I would just be in there hanging out, looking at his awards and trophies. One of the guys would bring up, ‘Remember in ‘76? Who was that in the second period?’ And he would be, like, bam. ‘Yeah, it was this guy doing this, doing that.’ He had an unbelievable memory. It was just so sharp, even when he got to an advanced age.”

Viktor’s grandfather passed away in 2014.

CSKA became the first stop in Viktor’s professional career. He joined the reserve team in 2004, then played two seasons for HK Dmitrov and the next three with Severstal Cheropovets. In 2008, he helped Russia win the bronze medal at the IIHF World Under-20 Championship. He scored a team-high five goals, made the tournament’s all-star team, and received an award for being the competition’s best forward.

Yet achieving such success meant enduring the high expectations that came with his last name. 

“In Finland, in Switzerland and in the States, it wasn’t too big of a deal,” Tikhonov said about the connection with his grandfather. “It really only started to affect me when I moved back to Russia. That’s where everybody knows and there’s just so much pressure to live up to the name.»

On the other hand, a famous last name also raises suspicions about connections outweighing ability. 

“For me, the hardest was probably with the players,” Tikhonov said. “Everyone’s always questioning, ‘What’s going on?’ ‘Is he on this team because of his grandpa, or is he actually good?’ It takes a little bit to prove to everyone that you’re just a normal guy, a team guy. It takes a week or two to get through that period. But once everyone gets to know you and you earn your spot, it gets easier.”

The NHL’s Phoenix Coyotes affirmed Tikhonov’s ability by selecting him in the first round of the league’s 2008 draft. The website hockeysfuture.com offered this analysis: 

“Solid two-way winger possessing good size and the capability of playing a grinding style of game. Tikhonov is tough to knock off the puck and his quick hands and strength make him an elusive player both along the boards and around the net.”

But after playing 61 games for Phoenix during the 2008-09 season, Tikhonov spent the next two seasons being shuttled between the Coyotes’ minor-league team in San Antonio and two clubs in Cheropovets: Severstal and Almaz, where he played on loan.   

So, in 2011, Tikhonov decided to return to Russia to re-ignite his career and signed a contract with SKA St. Petersburg, in Russia’s top Kontinental Hockey League. This time, however, young Viktor brought along his wife, Genia, who provided a unique advantage. Genia was born in Ukraine and raised in Belarus before moving to the US as a teenager. She met her future husband in California.

Does Genia help him navigate between the two cultures?

“Absolutely, especially (with) the decision going back to Russia,” Tikhonov said. “I think if I had an American wife, that would be a tough decision to make. But, since my wife lived there, experienced that growing up and knows the language, it’s definitely easier for me and for her.”

In St. Petersburg, Tikhonov received the consistent playing time he needed, scoring as many as 18 goals in one season and helping SKA in 2014-15 win the Gagarin Cup – the most prestigious team award in Russian hockey. It goes to the winner of the KHL’s playoffs.

Tikhonov also played for Russia during the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi (nine months before his grandfather passed away). But despite a star-studded roster, the hosts managed only a fifth-place finish.

“It was mixed, for sure, but it’s something I’ll always remember,” Tikhonov said about his Olympic experience. “It was incredible being there and just incredible being part of a team with so many superstars. But obviously, the result wasn’t very good for our country.”

When his contract with SKA ended, Tikhonov returned to North America after signing a one-year contract last July with the Chicago Blackhawks, where he played only 11 games before the Coyotes re-acquired him in December. Though he saw little action in Chicago, Tikhonov nonetheless played a critical role in helping one of his former SKA teammates adjust to life in the US.

Three months before Tikhonov joined them, the Blackhawks signed Artemi Panarin, who scored a team-high 26 goals the year SKA won the Gagarin Cup. This season, Panarin, 24, led all NHL rookies in goals and assists through mid-March, while confronting the same challenges Tikhonov once faced at an earlier age.

“When you’re speaking another language, you have to think differently, too,” Blackhawks center Artem Anisimov, a native of Yaroslavl, told the Chicago Sun-Times in November. “You’re thinking in a Russian mind, and trying to speak English. People aren’t going to understand everything. But (Panarin) is doing good. He’s already a grown man. But having Viktor helps a lot.”

After spending his life in two dissimilar cultures, Tikhonov noticed one fundamental difference.

“I think the big thing that stands out is that, in the United States, you see a lot more people smiling,” he said. “That’s one thing I’ve noticed. You go on the street and people say, ‘Hello.’ They seem to be in a happier mood. In Russia, if you don’t know a person, you don’t really smile and you don’t really say, ‘Hi.’ They’re not really grumpy, just a little more closed off.”

Which naturally leads to this question: If you are 51 percent Russian in your head, do you smile back, or maintain the icy visage of a battle-tested hockey forward? Skating between two cultures is not easy. RL