With Nikolai Khabibulin sidelined by a knee injury, Anaheim's Ilya Bryzgalov figures to get a serious look in the Russian goal in Torino.

Bryzgalov feels just
Ducky about hockey
By Doug Ward | NHL.com correspondent
Feb. 9, 2006

A mask is supposed to hide the wearer's true identity, but the one Russian goaltender Ilya Bryzgalov dons to protect to his face is more revealing than concealing.

"Bryz", the shorthand version of Bryzgalov's name, is emblazoned across the chin of the mask, and conversations with the 25-year-old Togliatti, Russia, native are, indeed, breezy.

"Just me and my wife designed my mask," the easy-going Bryzgalov is saying through a thick Russian accent that somehow comes off as more ingratiating than intimidating. Bryzgalov is sans mask, but otherwise outfitted in full goaltender regalia after a practice at the Mighty Ducks' training facility in Anaheim. Sweat drips from a face still creased with indentations from the padding on the inside of his mask, but despite staying on the ice for an extra 30 minutes-or-so after practice, Bryzgalov is not winded, not in any apparent hurry to shed his gear, and looks right at home in front of the double-wide cubicle he shares with 2003 Conn Smythe Trophy winner J.S. Giguere.

"I'm starting to feel more and more comfortable with every game I play in the NHL," Bryzgalov is saying. "Each time I play, I feel more confidence."

Bryzgalov's English is passable at best, but even at that, he is comfortable and assured in an interview. Maybe it's the influence of his tutor, legendary Russian goaltender Vladislav Tretiak taking hold. "The thing he taught me," Bryzgalov says of Tretiak, "is that hockey is more mental than anything. Especially for goaltender."

Bryzgalov, who recently had a son he named Vladimir to go along with daughter Valery, is now a father of two. But even parenthood can't mask his boyish demeanor. The molded piece of fiberglass and steel he wears while playing goal doesn't do a very good job of hiding it, either. As homage to his winter home in Orange County, there are palm trees on the mask Bryzgalov and his wife, Yevgeniya, imagineered. The most prominent feature, however, are images of Donald Duck.

"I really like the cartoons," Bryzgalov, a second round (44th overall) pick of the Ducks in 2000, says. "I like cartoons, and I like ducks. I think cartoon ducks are very funny. Donald Duck, Scrooge McDuck, they are all very funny."

Bryzgalov is chuckling, but he's not kidding. "I always watched cartoons when I was a small child in Russia," Bryzgalov says of a post-Cold War childhood that was more Disney than detente. "They had Donald Duck translated into Russian, and I used to watch it all the time."

With his 6-foot-3 and 198-pound frame juxtaposed with a cherubic face and a non-threatening persona, Bryzgalov can come off a bit like an overgrown cartoon character himself. But he is serious about his hockey, and with Nikolai Khabibulin sidelined by a knee injury, Bryzgalov figures to get a serious look in the Russian goal in Torino. He is expected to compete with San Jose's Evgeni Nabokov for playing time.

In his first 25 games for Anaheim this season, Bryzgalov had a 10-11-1 record with a 2.60 goals against average and .909 save percentage.

Cartoons weren't the only programming Bryzgalov watched while growing up in Togliatti, an automotive center located about 600 miles southeast of Moscow.

"I used to watch the Olympics, every time Russia played," Bryzgalov says. "I can remember watching the Nagano Games, the Lillehammer Games, and Albertville, too. I remember not much about Calgary because I was 8-years-old, right?"

Ilya Bryzgalov led Russia to a silver medal at the 2000 World Junior Championships, posting a .971 save percentage and 0.77 goals-against average, and put up a 2.75 GAA at the 2000 World Championships.

He watched in Salt Lake City four years ago where he was a member of Russia's bronze medal team, but did not get into a game. In other international experience, Bryzgalov led Russia to a silver medal at the 2000 World Junior Championships, posting a .971 save percentage and 0.77 goals-against average, and put up a 2.75 GAA in four games at the 2000 World Championships. Those games are always big news back home. Bryzgalov says an eerie glow settles over Togliatti whenever Team Russia takes the ice during an important international tournament. "When we play in the World Cup and the Olympic Games," Bryzgalov says, "a lot of times the games are shown on TV in Russia late at night. My parents said, when we play, for example at 4 a.m., all windows in the city are lighted up because everyone one is up watching the game."

In exchange for a good night's sleep, the good people of Russia expect nothing less than gold. The players, Bryzgalov says, expect the same. "Every year," Bryzgalov says, "it doesn't matter what tournament, what competition, we just look at the first spot. We have a great history in hockey and we have a great pride. We just want to win gold medal. Just gold."

That sense of entitlement is a carryover from the glory days of Russian hockey. From 1956 to 1992, Russian teams won hockey gold in eight out of 10 Olympic Games. The man who backstopped Russia to three of those Olympic gold medals -- Tretiak -- has had a profound influence on Bryzgalov. In addition to being a goaltending consultant for the Chicago Blackhawks, Tretiak runs his own goaltending camps and is regarded as one of the foremost authorities on teaching the position. "Oh, he's awesome," Bryzgalov says. "I worked with him in the summertime, at his training camp in Toronto. If I have time in Moscow, I meet with him and talk to him about life, about some problems. Vladislav is very good guy."

Some of Tretiak's advice to Bryzgalov is rudimentary. But coming from Tretiak, it carries extra weight and relevance. "He says, 'keep working harder, and play like you can every game,'" Bryzgalov says. "If you lose, it's OK, that's hockey. Losing is always possible. If you win, that's good, too. Just be fair to yourself. If you play hockey, be sure you give to the game 100 percent of your heart."

It's clear Bryzgalov has accepted that last piece of advice. It's written all over his face, and not even a goalie mask can hide it.