Turkish Delight

Source: 

http://www.usahockeymagazine.com/story.php?left_nav=0704&article=hockeyTurkey&right_nav=normal

American Living In Turkey Finds That Ice Helps Bridge The Culture Gap

By Michael Strich • Photos by Selçuk Basaran

Kaymak, Vurmak Atmak.

In case you don’t speak fluent Turkish that means “skate, shoot, score.”

When I found I’d be working halfway around the world in Turkey, I thought it meant hanging up my skates for the year. Images of mosques, Turkish baths and grand bazaars didn’t readily conjure up thoughts of slap shots and cross-ice passes.

But as most of us who enjoy the game do, I found a way to play hockey. In my case, though, it turned out to be the only way to play hockey in Turkey.

Ringed by the Mediterranean, Aegean and Black Seas, Turkey is uniquely situated as the only country in both Europe and Asia. It’s also a strategic ally of the United States because it shares borders with several countries, including Iraq and Iran. Though a secular country, 98 percent of its citizens are Muslim, and the Islamic influence is noticeable in each neighborhood’s domed mosque and the abundance of women wearing headscarves.

Turkey has a rich history – the Trojan Horse, Constantinople, the Ottoman Empire and Sultans – but its hockey history is still in its infancy. Turkey’s first rink, in the capital city of Ankara, was built in 1989, and is home to the only organized league in the country.

There are still just two hockey rinks (the other is in the town of Izmit) for the 68 million citizens of the country. Fortunately, I was going to teach in Ankara for the year, and so with the blessing of my wife, I used one of our valuable checked-baggage allowances for my hockey gear.

My first task in Turkey was to find a league, but my questions in broken Turkish at the rink proved fruitless. After weeks of inquiries and phone calls, however, my persistence paid off when a man in a Wayne Gretzky T-shirt came to my office, offering me a “tryout.”

This was Göktürk Tasdemir, the captain of the Turkish National Team. (Imagine Chris Chelios showing up in a similar situation.) A few mornings later I found myself at the Gençlik Spor il Müdürlügü Buz Pateni Saray? rink. We skated for nearly an hour, just the two of us, with Göktürk putting me through various drills. I quickly forgot I was in Turkey.

While I passed the on-ice test, the Turkish bureaucracy was a much bigger challenge. After several delays, I was finally placed on a team, Orta Dogu Teknik Üniversitesi (Middle East Technical University). And so began my career in the Turkish First League.

Though hockey is new to Turkey, the people seem determined to run things the right way. There are actually two full men’s leagues consisting of 230 players (the eight-team Süper Lig and the first league). There is also a seven-team women’s league, and a junior league to develop new players.

Each team is fully sponsored, which means all ice time is free for the players. There are around 20 total foreign players in the leagues, representing the United States, Canada, Bulgaria, Finland and the Ukraine.

The U.S. players are mainly embassy and military personnel who grew up playing hockey.

“I think that for the amount of time they’ve been playing hockey,” says Will Marshall, who has been in Turkey for two years, “the fact that Turks have hockey of this caliber and organization is truly phenomenal.”

Marshall is the second secretary with the Department of State at the U.S. Embassy, but in hockey circles he may be more familiar as the son of Willie Marshall, the AHL’s all-time leader in goals, assists, games and points.

Unlike my men’s league in upstate New York, which consists mainly of playing games, the emphasis here is on skill development. Each team practices twice a week, and plays eight to14 games over a six-month season, not including playoffs.

At first I thought it was a bit beneath me – not because I’m that good, but the last time I participated in a formal practice was in high school. I did enjoy it, and my game has improved as I can work on those weaknesses that playing games doesn’t allow for. The practices also build a more solid sense of team unity than games alone.

Göktürk, my mentor, arranged it so I could practice an additional night of the week with another team, so I have the pleasant dilemma of too much ice time during weeks with games.

As soon as I began to think that I’d found hockey nirvana, though, something jarred me back to reality. In a country that places a healthy tax on imported goods, hockey equipment is at a premium.

On some of the teams, many players lack full equipment, so sharing gear is quite common. The only equipment worn in my team’s early practices was gloves and skates, and in our first fully-equipped practice (after much needed, sponsor-provided equipment arrived) pairs of skaters squared off and kept ramming into each other, laughing, like little kids. Many players on my team brought their equipment in suitcases until they hired a local tailor to stitch hockey-style bags.

There are other glaring differences. At my first game the regular locker rooms were being renovated, so my team dressed in a stone tile-floored room – not very good for your skates. I found a box and placed pieces of cardboard down to form a path out the door.

When I skated onto the ice, I began hearing boos – lots of them. Our opponents, Ankara Truva Paten, sponsored by the city traffic police, had brought about 150 fans, including a marching band. After a brief warm-up, with my adrenaline pumping, we were directed off the ice back to the locker room; the ice was going to be cleaned again. During the game, fans for both teams stood the entire time, whistling, singing and howling.

Most goals, even meaningless ones, were celebrated like a choreographed end-zone celebration, with end-to-end skating and arm waving. Shifts lasted 10 minutes or more, not due to the lack of players, but because coaches tend to leave the better players on the ice.

For a “too many men on the ice” penalty, our team received a penalty shot. Also, no one dared to talk back to the referee. I started to question a suspect call and was scolded for even speaking.

Nationwide, the biggest obstacle to the growth of hockey is the limited opportunities to play or watch the game. It’s hard to develop young players or a fan base without ice (one league team, Istanbul Ted Kolejliler, travels 220 miles to compete).

The government has plans to build two more rinks over the next four years, but until more widespread opportunities for the game are established, hockey in Turkey will still be a niche sport.

Despite the relative anonymity, the players in the Ankara leagues remind me of players in U.S. leagues. After all, it’s hockey and they play for the same reasons – the camaraderie, the competition, the fitness, and the love of the game.

Goalies here still tend to be a little “zany,” players work on trick breakaway shots in practice, and there’s always the condition of the ice to complain about. And in case you were wondering, that distinct smell of hockey gear is truly global. There are even rink rats, who may one day become the first generation of Turkish superstars.

Despite being ranked 41st in the world, Turkey has had some good recent showings in international play. (Turkey is relegated to Div. III play, where they compete against countries like Iceland, South Africa and New Zealand.)

“I think we will go to the next division in five years,” Göktürk says, pointing out the rapid development of the junior league that has grown from four to 12 teams in the last five years.

This past January, Ankara hosted the World’s Div. III Under-20 tournament, and while Turkey only had one victory, they were competitive in each game.

This March, Turkey will also field its first international women’s team in the Div. IV International Championships held in Romania.

“This year will be our year of initiation, so anything is possible,” says team member Esra Dogramac?, who played at the University of Wisconsin-Superior.

“With the determination that the girls show, we can make quick strides in a short amount of time, perhaps faster than the men.”

And as for me, living in Turkey has required me to make major adjustments, too. But when I’m returning from a practice and hear the Arabic call to prayer coming from the local mosque, I realize I have the best of both worlds here: the opportunity to experience a new culture and the privilege to continue playing the game I love.

Michael Strich, accompanied by his wife and three children, is working in Turkey on a one-year U.S. Fulbright Teaching Exchange, designed in part to “help promote mutual understanding, exchange of knowledge and lasting ties between the people of the United States and the people of other countries.”