Beyond The Big Chill

By WILLIAM A. HENRY III

Ever since it began after World War II, athletic competition between the U.S. and the Soviet bloc has served as a surrogate cold war. While the battles on the playing fields took place between individual performers or teams, the organizations that financed athletes and the crowds that cheered them on tended to trumpet each victory as a triumph for an entire economic and political system and to mourn any defeat as a boon to an iniquitous empire. Sports officials on both sides exploited the conflict to raise funds. The political overtones helped motivate athletes. Says swimmer Rowdy Gaines, who won three Olympic gold medals: "I always found it helpful to have the Soviets around so I could psych myself up against an enemy of my country." At its most extreme, politics pollutes sportsmanship; the U.S. boycotted the 1980 Olympics held in Moscow, and the Soviets snubbed the 1984 Games held in Los Angeles.

Now the cold war is over, and a track meet is once again simply a track meet. While athletes and their coaches are as happy as anyone else about peace, the disappearance of the symbolic moral struggle has taken away a certain dramatic appeal -- and has led to pragmatic worry that subsidies will soon diminish. Both those concerns have been evident at the Goodwill Games in Seattle, which with 186 medal events in 21 sports is the first large-scale encounter between U.S. and Soviet athletes since the revolutions in Eastern Europe.

Some U.S. athletes stayed away, seemingly more worried about minor injuries or the size of appearance fees than any struggle for national honor. The capitalist side was further weakened by no-shows among European stars more concerned with championships scheduled on home turf. Most East bloc stars came, but many wondered how long they would continue to enjoy special privileges, including subsidized travel, priority housing and victory bonuses paid in Western currency.

Most immediately affected are the East Germans, whose powerhouse teams have already endured deep cuts in coaching staffs and facilities and will soon be merged with West German competitors. Their demoralized squad's lackluster showing was the biggest news of the opening days of the Goodwill Games, which otherwise generated few stellar performances. The second biggest news also reflected political change. Soviet hockey player Sergei Fedorov said he was not defecting -- he wants to return home eventually -- but left his team to sign on with the Detroit Red Wings of the National Hockey League.

The East German slump was most evident in swimming, as the women's team captured only one of 13 individual gold medals (vs. eight of 13 at the 1988 Olympics in Seoul) and lost a major medley relay to an American squad for the first time since 1978. Said Kathleen Nord, who won the 200-meter butterfly in Seoul but was shut out in Seattle: "People have turned against us. We cannot concentrate on competition when the shape of our lives is so uncertain. When we become part of the free world, we will have to find corporate sponsors." Daniela Hunger, another East German gold medalist at Seoul, went to Seattle ranked No. 1 in the 50-meter freestyle but finished a weak third. She explained, "Psychological chaos is unsettling. Many of us now have to think first of finding jobs. Before, the jobs took care of themselves."

Swimming nonetheless provided a new world record, as Mike Barrowman of the U.S. improved his own mark in the 200-meter breaststroke, and a great comeback story, as 1988 U.S. Olympian Matt Biondi emerged from semiretirement to win five medals, four gold. That was more excitement than track achieved despite having such U.S. stars as Carl Lewis, Roger Kingdom, Jackie Joyner-Kersee and Evelyn Ashford, who, at 33, finished just out of the medals in the 100-meter dash in the twilight of her exceptional career.

Ratings were not yet available for the telecasts by games originator Ted Turner on his TBS cable channel in the U.S. and on TV systems in more than 70 other nations. But in Seattle, where most events were staged, ticket sales lagged; there were even 1,000 empty seats at the welcoming gala. Turner raised his estimate of losses on the games from $13 million to $26 million or more. But he insisted that the event, which he created in 1986 in a different climate, retains its rationale. "Things have certainly improved as far as our government-to-government relations are concerned," Turner said, "but American and Soviet people need to feel better about each other. You can't do this at summits. We still need goodwill."

Many participants welcomed the new absence of political tension. Basketball coach Mike Krzyzewski of Duke University said, "I've coached several times against the Soviets and never used the good-guy-vs.-bad-g uy approach. These kids of mine have nothing to do with politics. They get up to play the Soviets because they're good on a basketball floor, not because of some political evil. And that's how it should be." But when his squad met the Soviets in a sold-out first-round game at the Seattle Coliseum, the favored Americans fell, 92-85. Some fans may have been forgivably wistful for the bad old fired-up days.

With reporting by Lee Griggs/Seattle