Russia poised to flex Soviet-era muscle in Athens Olympics

And this Olympic team could burnish Russia's somewhat battered sense of national pride. "In the past, we had many things to be proud of, like space research and famous ballet, and only in sport Russia still has leading positions," says Lev Rossoshik, deputy editor of Moscow's Sport-Express newspaper.

"Ninety percent of all sportsmen going to Athens are brought up by trainers of the Soviet sport schools - in fact, they are still a product of old Soviet times," says Mr. Rossoshik. "Russian sport faces the same problem as Russian art or science. Many trainers left Russia in the 1990s when sport was abandoned."

But the story is not all negative, and some sports are now finding new talent.

"We lost our famous sport schools, where enthusiastic coaches could attract talented youth," says Anna Dmitrieva, a former tennis star and deputy head of the NTV-plus sports channel.

"But having lost it, we also gained: We became more free. In tennis for instance, we can use the achievements of foreign specialists now, and we had nothing like that in the past," says Ms. Dmitrieva. "We lost our position in some disciplines [rowing, archery] but gained in others where we were not strong."

Overcoming the hurdles seems to be half the battle for Russian Olympians, especially as Soviet-era coaches fade, along with their achievements at the head of a system meant to demonstrate the superiority of the communist Soviet man.

"The problem is when you start to get good, you have to give all your force to training," says boxer Alexeyev, from the Volga River city of Samara, as he is fitted for his Olympic uniform. "You need to eat and to pay for your life. That is our problem now. The Olympic team has presidential grants and subsidies, but at lower levels there is only money for food. You need to look for sponsors."

Today, young athletes born into sporting families often have an advantage. Alexeyev's father, Vyacheslav, was the Soviet boxing champ in 1971 and competed twice against American boxers. Today the two are one of at least three father-son teams on the national boxing squad.

Things have changed since boxing gloves were 10 rubles a pair (today they cost 1,500 rubles, or $55) and they were given out by sports schools, says the father. His coaching and boxing contacts have been indispensable to his son's success.

"I wanted so much to become a great boxer, I worked so hard, but I didn't become a great boxer like my son," says Vyacheslav, whose gnarled hands manifest the broken bones of years of combat in the boxing ring. "Our children must be better than us, achieve more than us, and be more intelligent than us - that is progress."

Bringing such progress to the Chekhov training camp is what drives Russian boxers. President Putin, a judo master, visited the camp earlier this year. A pristine American-made Everlast boxing ring is the centerpiece of the place. Inspirational portraits of Soviet and Russian champions and medal-winners adorn the walls, along with a huge blue, white, and red-striped Russian flag at one end.

A score of boxers sweat profusely as they hone their skills on punching bags, skip rope, and then finish workouts with weight checks.

Besides developing their physical prowess, Russia's boxers also study videos of their opponents in action and work on mental focus and toughness. That's what makes an Olympian these days, says father Vyacheslav, who has high hopes for Alexeyev's medal chances.

"He's a friend of his head," says the father, who had coached Alexeyev since he was 9. "He's quite intellectual, and is very good with tactics."

"It's a struggle not only of fists, but of the intellect. You must think, 'How will I fight?' " concurs Alexeyev.

"Think of a moment of danger: When you are frightened by a dog, you can jump three meters high," says Alexeyev. "If you can concentrate that [energy burst], you can do unbelievable things."

Page: 1 | 2