Russian Hoop Dreams

During the past decade, some of the best American women basketball players have been taking their talents to Russia, raising the level of play from Yekaterinburg to Kursk to Moscow, while flying in the face of decades of bilateral, Cold War inspired sports rivalry. In fact, it would not be an overstatement to say these women are changing the face of basketball in Russia — yet Russia is also having its effect on them.

Players from the Women's National Basketball Association (WNBA) routinely spend their winter off-seasons playing for teams in Europe and Asia. Many have gone to Russia, where they have been particularly effective in helping their clubs bring home championships.

UMMC Yekaterinburg has won the Russian SuperLeague (now the Professional Basketball League, or PBL) the past three seasons with the help of Candace Parker and Cappie Pondexter. In 2008, Parker was the WNBA's most valuable player in her first season with the Los Angeles Sparks, and an Olympic gold medalist for the U.S. in Athens. Pondexter won two WNBA championships while with the Phoenix Mercury.

Joining them this season is Sue Bird, a veteran of seven seasons in Russia with Dinamo Moscow and Spartak Moscow Region in Vidnoye. Bird has won two Olympic gold medals for the U.S. and two WNBA championships for the Seattle Storm.

While at Spartak, Bird and fellow Americans Diana Taurasi, Tina Thompson, Sylvia Fowles and Kelly Miller led the club to four consecutive EuroLeague titles from 2006 to 2009. Taurasi, another two-time Olympic gold medalist and WNBA champion, was the EuroLeague's most valuable player in 2009 and 2010.

The EuroLeague, which is similar to the Champions' League in soccer, features the best women's club teams from throughout Europe. Spartak, UMMC Yekaterinburg and Nadezhda Orenburg compete in this season's edition.

Replacing Bird at Spartak is Becky Hammon, a veteran of CSKA Moscow and Nadezhda Orenburg. Born in the American Midwest, Hammon created controversy when she chose to play for Russia in the 2008 Olympics, where the team won a bronze medal. Today, Hammon's coach at Spartak is another American, Pokey Chatman, who starts her second season as Spartak's head coach after serving as an assistant for her first two years.*

As this season began, 12 Americans had signed contracts to play for Russian clubs, ranging from Spartak and UMMC Yekaterinburg to Dinamo Kursk and Chevataka Vologda.

What attracts Russian clubs to American players? Expertise.

"The Russians want to be the best in every sport," said Chatman, who is also head coach and general manager of the WNBA's Chicago Sky. "They're OK about hiring people outside their nationality if they can elevate their game."

What attracts the Americans to Russian gyms? Money.

The WNBA's average annual salary will be $71,308 for the upcoming season. The minimum for those who have played no more than two years is $37,260. Veteran stars like Bird and Taurasi can make as much as $105,500.

But during their years with Spartak, Bird earned nearly $350,000 a season while Taurasi amassed about $500,000, according to ESPN.com. Parker is rumored to be making $1.2 million per season.

"It was something I was interested in right out of college," Taurasi said. "They've always had great club teams and paid really good money."

Earning that much money means making major cultural adjustments, even on the court.

In the PBL, at least six Russians must be on the 12-player roster for each game, and every team must play at least two Russians on the floor at all times. The EuroLeague has similar restrictions to benefit European players.

"It definitely affects how you build your roster," Chatman said. "You have certain plays you can run for the Russian league, not so much for the EuroLeague. When you can get to the point when they're similar, that's when you're the most successful."

But Americans can circumvent those regulations by applying for Russian or European passports, thus becoming more valuable to their teams.

Hammon and Miller have Russian passports. Taurasi, whose paternal grandparents are Italian, competes under an Italian passport. Bird's paternal grandparents were Ukrainian Jews, so she uses an Israeli passport.

"When I first got to Spartak, they inquired about me getting a Russian passport," said Miller, a Minnesota native. "I was able to play as a Russian. You can only have a certain amount of Americans on the court, so it helped the team out."

American players also confront a different playing style. "It's a highly skilled, offensive way of doing things," Chatman said. "They have 6-foot-5 players who can handle the ball and shoot 3-point shots."

As a result, the European style is "more finesse, more skill," Pondexter said. "Here in the United States, it's all based on athleticism — how high you can jump. how fast you can run. Over there, you actually have to think the game a lot more."

For Chatman, getting her players to think involves infusing Russian intensity with an American view of balance. "I've exercised a lot of patience," Chatman said. "They're really good about working hard. It's a very focused, driven society. But they understand the value of what I call, 'making relax,' to relax and recharge. I think that's extremely important in anything and everything you do. It's a fine line."

Forming a cohesive unit also requires negotiating a rugged language barrier, even with clubs providing translators. "You go to the grocery store and you don't know if you're buying face lotion, hemorrhoid cream or cheese," said Bird, who relied on one of her WNBA teammates, Kamila Vodichkova, to translate when both played for Dinamo Moscow.

"One morning, I woke up with a headache and I had to call her and say, 'Can you take me to the drug store?'" Bird recalled. "Now, I'm very self-sufficient in terms of grocery shopping, going to the store, to the movies, you name it."

Weather provides another major obstacle. "We had our training camp in the Canary Islands," said Alison Bales, who played just five games for Dinamo Moscow in the 2007-08 season. "Basically, it's 85 degrees every day. After two weeks there, we went straight to Moscow and they handed us a parka as we got on the bus. It was a huge, fur-lined, down parka."

"It's very gray there, even depressing," said Fowles, a member of both the Chicago Sky and the 2008 U.S. Olympic team. "I don't see how they can stay in -40° weather."

But the biggest challenge for American players is overcoming their immediate impressions of the Russian people.

"When you look at them, your initial reaction is, 'Why do they look so angry?' They have that poker face that's on all the time," said the Sparks' DeLisha Milton-Jones, who played with UMMC Yekaterinburg for two seasons and won two Olympic gold medals for the United States.

One reason might be the need to focus on daily survival. "They are some hustlers, and I like it," Fowles said. "You have some people out in front of markets selling their own products just to try to make money. Even the little ones are out there trying to hustle. You can only respect that."

Other reasons are complex, yet obvious. "It's a different world," Taurasi said. "They're a very prideful people in their culture, their language, their appreciation of their history. Once I learned a little more about it, I got a better appreciation for why their lifestyle is the way it is.

"There are a lot of things that still resonate and you can see it in everyday life. You can see why Russia is a very hard country to live in. Everything is really hard there and the people are just tough as nails."

Bird describes how her view of the Russians changed. "When I first got to Moscow and met my teammates, they weren't always the warmest," she said. "They're not very quick to smile. Once I got to know them as that year progressed, they became some of the most loyal friends I have. They'll always have your back."

Once they break through their initial misconceptions, American players discover how warm, passionate and enthusiastic Russians can be. "They make us feel at home," said Epiphanny Prince, who played for Spartak last season. "Every game, a different fan gives you a note telling you how great you are to them and how great you've been playing — or if you haven't been playing so well, they still love you. We didn't have the season most Spartak teams have, but they stuck with us."

Parker experiences the same affection in Yekaterinburg. "Our fans are very loyal to us," she said. "They're always waiting for us after the game and give us gifts. They gave my daughter dolls. They draw pictures and give them to us. They'll bring roses to a game and give them to you."

Fowles remembers one touching moment with a young fan. "He wanted to go home with me," she said. "He was just the cutest thing ever. He had to be no more than 13. But I didn't know him. I never met him before. I just saw him at the game once. He was trying to speak English but I had no clue about what he was saying."

That affection extends beyond the arena. "If they saw us on the street, oh my God, they would go crazy," Milton-Jones added. "They couldn't say, 'DeLisha,' so they would say 'Dasha! Dasha! Moy drug!' It just makes you feel so welcome and it makes you feel like you really do mean something to them, other than being a product that's put on the floor to perform."

Clubs make the transition easier by providing private drivers, private translators and accommodations that vary from luxurious condominiums to the kind that Fowles describes. "Sometimes, you have to wait for hot water," she said. "Sometimes, you come back from out of town and you have no power."

Many players bring family members to stay with them in Russia. Those who don't confront perhaps their most overwhelming obstacle. "I didn't deal with the loneliness," said Prince, who is playing in Turkey this season. "It was too hard for me. I don't like being alone, especially in a country where I can't do things on my own. If I'm lonely (in the United States), I can go see a movie or go somewhere and be able to entertain myself. I'm always texting or Skyping someone, asking why aren't they talking to me. I had my dad come out for a month and a half."

Frigid weather, as well as the language barrier, can limit social opportunities. "A lot of the social aspect I would spend with my teammates," said Tammy Sutton-Brown, who played in Russia for three seasons. "It's so cold over there that you really don't do that much socially — and I'm originally from Canada, so I've grown up in the cold weather."

The problem becomes acute in smaller cities. "In Kursk, you basically are hibernating," said Michelle Snow, playing her fourth consecutive season with Dinamo. "There's not much to do. There's not really anywhere to go, other than practice and home.

"You don't really want to bring your family over there and not have anything to show them or entertain them. So you've really got to be a strong-minded person who can handle that kind of situation."

Playing in Yekaterinburg eases that problem. "It's a young city," Pondexter said. "There's a lot of young culture there. It's pretty cool."

"It's not as big as Moscow, but it's not like a town out in the middle of nowhere," Parker added. "They have American restaurants and steak houses. I took my daughter to the circus. There's an aquarium and a zoo."

Playing in Moscow provides more. "Moscow has everything," Snow said. "They speak English. You've got the culture, the movies. Anything you can possibly think of that you have in the States is pretty much in Moscow."

And even more, in Chatman's opinion. "I always tell people Moscow is like New York on steroids," Chatman said. "The lights. The entertainment. The money. The shopping. The Bolshoi Ballet. I've probably seen more entertainers in Moscow than I have in America, from Placido Domingo to Erykah Badu."

Moscow is so Westernized that players from other Russian clubs "stay an extra day or two just to shop or to get some semblance of familiarity," Chatman said.

Yet even Taurasi, who would grow to appreciate Russian culture, initially found playing in Moscow exasperating. "I remember finishing my first season saying, 'I'm never coming back here again,'" Taurasi said. "It was just way too difficult. I really didn't find a connection with the team, the players, the coaches, the country, the food.

"Shabtai was the main reason I stayed in Russia for so long. The only reason I looked forward to going back every September was to be with him and his family."

"Shabtai" is Shabtai von Kalmanovic, the millionaire patron of Spartak. He was murdered in 2009, in what police called a "contract killing."

"He's the one who opened our eyes that life was more than just basketball," Taurasi said. "I became really close with his two little boys and his wife, Anna."

Though Kalmanovic has been dead for three years, Chatman still speaks of him in the present tense. "He's so well-read," Chatman said. "He's into the arts. Yes, he had a colored past and he talks about it. He's such a dynamic personality."

Kalmanovic — who once worked for Soviet military intelligence and was arrested for spying in Israel — lavished his players with business class air travel to road games, performance bonuses as high as $10,000, and occasional side trips to Paris or Venice for shopping.

"We were as much a part of his family as anyone else," Taurasi said. "I can remember countless times when we'd get back from a long road trip and we'd have a house full of cooked meals. We're talking about a multi-millionaire who's got businesses all over Europe and he's worried about us having hot food."

Kalmanovic spent nearly $7 million a year on Spartak, though he never charged admission and never made a profit. He even had to pay Russian television to broadcast games.

Taurasi — who called Kalmanovic, "Papa" — was deeply affected by his death. "After his passing, it was kind of a turning point for me. Maybe I had to go and explore something different," said Taurasi, who is now playing her second season in Turkey.

Kalmanovic's successor as the leading patron of women's basketball is Iskander Makhmudov, the billionaire owner of Yekaterinburg's Ural Mining and Metallurgical Company, which has expanded into agriculture, construction and telecommunications.

"My team is very generous," said Parker, who has received diamond jewelry for herself and her three-year-old daughter, as well as an expensive watch. "They give a lot for Women's Day and for your birthday."

The adulation is not free. Players pay the price in the added strain that year-round play puts on their bodies and minds.** "It is a grind playing over there," said Taurasi, who contemplated taking the 2011 WNBA season off before reconsidering. "They have their double practices a day, and practices are hard."

Some players have abandoned the WNBA altogether. Maria Stepanova and Svetlana Abrosimova, who won bronze medals for Russia in the 2008 Olympics, now play solely for UMMC Yekaterinburg. One American joined them.

Deanna Nolan — who helped the Detroit Shock win three WNBA championships — left that league in 2009, signed an exclusive contract with UMMC Ekaterinberg and applied for a Russian passport. She could represent Russia in the 2012 London Olympics.

"At some point, you do need rest," Bird said. "You may not realize it while you're doing it. You may not realize it in a year, but I'm sure it's taken a toll on everyone's body.

"The thing about it is that you make more money in Europe, so you're missing out on money."

Yet the days of huge contracts for foreign players in Russia — as well as Russian supremacy in European club competition — might be ending. "The domination of the Russian league is pretty much over," said Boris Lelchitski, an agent who represents nearly 100 female players. "There are few clubs that can pay decent money. For the last couple of years with the financial crisis, a lot of teams in Russia — good teams — folded."

One of those teams is the women's squad from CSKA Moscow. The decline is a reflection of the fall in prices for Russia's two biggest commodities: oil and natural gas. "A lot of the teams have been swimming in gold because a lot of them were able to get funds from the government," Lelchitski said. "Very few of them had private sponsors."

Those that did, especially from industries related to petroleum and gas, were devastated. "Samara used to have a very good team in women's basketball in Russia," Lelchitski said. "They won the EuroLeague cup a couple of times. Their owner used to be in oil production and oil equipment. The company went bankrupt."

Russian clubs also now face stronger competition for talent. Fowles, Milton-Jones, Prince, Miller, Sutton-Brown, Bales and Thompson are among those who now play elsewhere after the WNBA season.

"Say a club in Valencia, in Spain, is able to pay about the same kind of money that the Russian club will pay," Lelchitski said. "I think players would probably choose Valencia because of the nice weather, the nice city, just the lifestyle."

Yet for those who have played in Russia, the benefits extend beyond the material. "It's one thing to read a book or open an encyclopedia and read about Russia," Milton-Jones said. "But to go there and experience it first-hand is only going to make you a better person. You're living with them. You're eating with them. You're just throwing yourself into the culture. Being that far away from home — on the other side of God's back, as my grandma used to say — makes you grow up fast and it makes you appreciate what you have at home."

That appreciation can be profound. "It just changes the way you see life," Snow said. "I don't care if you live in the ghettoes here; you have it much better than most of the people in the rest of the world. It's very humbling."

Another benefit is maintaining the connection with Russian teammates and fans. "They're on my Facebook and Twitter pages trying to translate from Russian to English," Snow said. "They easily could've just thought, 'Well, she speaks English' and not even try. To see them try means a lot."

For Hammon, those connections mean more than victories or medals. "I have so many good friends over there, and they accept me as one of them," Hammon said. "I know their families. I know their names. They'll fly over and visit me during the summer.

"The biggest blessing of all, I think, is the friendships that you make and being able not only to impact your peers but impact fans worldwide. I've just seen a lot of different situations and I have a real big heart for the Russian people and the struggles that they've gone through. I just go over there and love on my teammates as much as I can."

Taurasi summarized Russia's contradictions, riddles, enigmas, joys and frustrations — and how they changed her. "Russia: The more you're here, the less sense it makes," she said. "If you would've asked me 10 years ago if I would live in Russia, I would've told you, 'Take a hike.' Now that I look back, I wouldn't have wanted to spend it any other place." RL

* She led the team to a 16-0 record and the Euroleague Championship in 2010.

** The European season runs from October to April, while the WNBA season runs from May to September.