The Red Shark

Vladimir Konstantinov has the kind of mug that inspires nicknames. To Detroit Red Wings fans, who focus on the defenseman's low brow, flattened nose and facial scars, he is the Vladinator. This character is celebrated inside Joe Louis Arena with a video that shows Konstantinov terminating players and then appearing in dark shades, saying, "Hasta la vista, baby!" in his thick Russian accent. To his teammates, who have watched him develop into one of the NHL's top defensemen, Konstantinov is simply George. His high cheekbones and goofy smile, they say, are similar to those of the children's-book monkey Curious George. "This name, CAR-rhee-ush George," the 30-year-old Konstantinov says slowly, "I don't know if I like so much."

In that case he can choose from several other monikers. During his seven seasons with the Soviet Central Red Army team (1984-85 to 1990-91), Konstantinov, who's missing most of his front teeth, picked up the name Grandpa. "I le looks like he is 55 years old," says Detroit center Igor Larionov, a former Red Army teammate.

Around the NHL, however, the nicknames aren't quite as cuddly. In six seasons with the Red Wings, Konstantinov has become one of the most feared and loathed players in the game. He's known for leaving his feet to crush an opponent, hitting after the whistle, aiming for knees with his checks and, most of all, using his stick to perform on-ice surgery. That specialty has earned Konstantinov the label Vladi the Impaler. "If Vladi's mother were standing in the crease, he'd cross-check her," says Detroit forward Joey Kocur. "There aren't many people like him, and if there were, we'd all be in a constant state of war."

Adds Red Wings forward Brendan Shanahan, "When I played against him in St. Louis, I thought he was a borderline dirty player. Now that I play with him, I know he's a borderline dirty player." This is what Konstantinov's teammates say about him.

Colorado Avalanche coach Marc Crawford, who watched Konstantinov irritate, bully and shut down many of his forwards during the Western Conference finals, which Detroit won in six games, whined that Konstantinov commits "a penalty every shift he's on the ice." Three days before the start of the Stanley Cup finals, perhaps haunted by memories of what Konstantinov had done to the Philadelphia Flyers' Eric Lindros during the two regular-season Detroit-Philly meetings (Lindros had no goals and one assist but picked up 12 penalty minutes in a loss and a tie). Flyers coach Terry Murray said Konstantinov is "one of the dirtiest defensemen in the league." Outside the CoreStates (enter in Philadelphia last Saturday night, after the Red Wings had thumped the Flyers 4-2 in Game 1 of the Cup finals, fans were calling him "that f——— Commie."

It's a hallmark of all hard-nosed players that their teammates love them and their opponents hate their guts. "I don't mind what people call me," says Konstantinov. "They say I'm mean. I'm dirty. I'm the bad boy. And I like this. I get recognition from Detroit fans and my teammates for making big open-ice checks. So other people can say what they want. I don't care. It means they think of me instead of thinking of the game. That means I win."

Indeed, during Game 1 Lindros and the rest of the Flyers looked out of sync trying to keep one eye on Konstantinov, who at six feet and 190 pounds is small for such a physical player, and the other eye on the task at hand. If Konstantinov and the rest of the speedy Wings continue to stand up to Philadelphia's big bodies throughout the series, Detroit could end its 42-year Cup drought. For perhaps the first time since the days of Bobby Orr, the finals may turn on the play of a defenseman. Konstantinov is ready. "The elbows, the sticks—everything is sharpened," he said last Friday.

On Saturday night nothing was as sharp as Konstantinov's skates. As most European players are taught to do from an early age, Konstantinov and Detroit's four other Russian players were often circling on the ice. Konstantinov is always swooping and spinning, like a predator looking for prey. That's when another feature of his unique puss comes into focus, seemingly the only one that has yet to inspire a nickname. As he circles, he also squints, his green eyes in constant motion, darting from one target to the next. The way he orbits opponents while giving them that cold, amoral stare, Konstantinov doesn't look like a Vladinator, a George, a Grandpa or an Impaler. He looks like a shark on fro/en water. A Red Shark.

"If Vladi sees that the crest on the sweater is not a Red Wing, something inside him just lights up," says Detroit assistant coach Dave Lewis. "North American players differentiate between players and stars. Vladi just sees the crest, and he makes it a war. If you're 235 pounds, like Eric Lindros, he'll hit you. If you're the smallest guy on the team, he'll hit you. If he thinks he can get away with something, he'll do it. He loves the fact that other teams hate him."

Of all his skills, Konstantinov's greatest asset to the Red Wings is his knack for pestering an opponent's top player like a bothersome little brother. "Vladi can tell when he gets under your skin," says Detroit forward Darren McCarty. "And when he does, he's going to burrow."