An Iceman With a Mission

Mike Vukonich took the puck. Breakaway. Nothing between him and goaltender Robbie Stauber--except ice.

He fired a wrist shot. It flew high in the net.

Almost.

At the last second, Stauber gloved the puck.

This was years ago when Vukonich and Stauber were "squirts," skating in the youth hockey leagues of Duluth, Minn. Every night, Vukonich would stay at the outdoor rink until after dark and then run home, stick poised against intruders from the night.

Today, Vukonich and Stauber play two different brands of hockey, on two different teams, thousands of miles away. Vukonich is a sophomore center on the East's second-ranked Harvard hockey team. Stauber--last year's Hobey Baker winner--is the All-America goaltender for the number-two team from the West, Minnesota.

Stauber is still known for his brilliant saves and near-perfect goaltending.

And Vukonich is still known for his shot.

"Mike has one of the hardest shots in the game," Harvard Coach Bill Cleary says. "He has a wrist shot, and he has a slapshot that can be very intimidating to goaltenders."

Vukonich's strong shot carried him in high school. All he had to do was skate and score. He left as the number-one scorer on his Duluth Denfeld team.

But Vukonich entered Harvard with arguably the best recruiting class in years. With classmates like Peter Ciavaglia, Ted Donato and John Weisbrod--all top forwards on the Harvard team--it would be easy for Vukonich to feel lost in the crowd. But he doesn't look at it that way.

"I was looking down the road, thinking that by the time we were seniors, we'd have a good squad, good leadership and maybe a national championship..." Vukonich says.

In Bull Durham style, Ciavaglia--supposedly the class media pro after his star freshman season--interrupts to teach Vukonich how to deal with the press.

"You're supposed to say, `I'm a team player and I just want to win. It doesn't matter to me if I'm the star. I just want to contribute," Ciavaglia explains. "That's how you handle those questions."

Vukonich rooms with Ciavaglia and Weisbrod, and all three claim that there is no competition among the group.

Except, perhaps, for interviews.

"Why Vuk? Why not me?" Ciavaglia questions.

"You get everything else," Vukonich says. "You're guaranteed at least three points before you step on the ice. I don't get any credit around here--I'm the unsung hero, the seventh player."

Vukonich is joking, but there is a grain of truth in these words. Even Ciavaglia recognizes it.

"[Mike's] not flashy, but he plays hard, outmuscles a lot of guys and gets off the shots," Ciavaglia says. "But he's not a big point scorer, and he doesn't get noticed a lot."

Maybe because it's hard to keep track of him. Vukonich (10 goals and six assists for 16 points this season) is big--6-ft., 1-in., and 205 lbs.--but he is also quick and one of the best end-to-end players on the Crimson.

"Mike is a great all-around player," junior C.J. Young says. "He covers all the ice when he's out there, and he's a great backchecker."

Missed Opportunity

Coach Cleary considered using Vukonich in Harvard's big scoring weapon, the five-forward power play. But an early-season bout with mononucleosis canceled his tryout. And another sophomore, Donato, came through with a more-than-solid performance.

"I was thinking of Mike for the power play because of his shooting ability," Cleary said. "But he got sick, and Teddy really played well."

When mono struck, life became rough for Vukonich. The man who had never missed a game for any reason, injuries included, had to sit out for seven straight.

"It was terrible," Vukonich says. "Just terrible. I don't even like to think about it."

But the toughest moment wasn't watching the games from the Bright Center press box or seeing Ciavaglia and Weisbrod pack for weekend road trips without him.

The roughest moment came listening to the Harvard-Army game on the radio--hearing that Weisbroad suffered a tough hit and was being taken to the hospital. That's when not being with the team was hardest.

"The worst thing was when John got hurt," Vukonich says. "I didn't know what was going on. I was trying to call the hospital and everything. On the radio they made it sound like he was crippled for life."

Quick Recovery

Weisbrod had a concussion and only missed one week of action. But Vukonich had been worried. He knew that for Weisbrod, like for himself, not being able to play hockey would be devastating.

"Hockey is the focal point of my life," says Vukonich, who is hoping for a pro career with the Los Angeles Kings, who hold his rights. "It's all hockey, hockey, hockey."

Practice with hockey players, live with hockey players, eat with hockey players. Hockey, hockey, hockey.

"I grew up in Duluth, and I always wanted to be a [University of Minnesota-Duluth] Bulldog," Vukonich says. "In our town everything was UMD hockey. But as I grew older, I realized I wanted to go away a little bit."

Away, at first was not across the country. It was across the state, to Minneapolis, home of Stauber and the University of Minnesota.

If he wasn't going to be a Bulldog, Vukonich wanted to be a Golden Gopher. The ECAC? Hockey East? Are those leagues? He didn't even know what Eastern teams belonged to what divisions. Hockey was the WCHA and nothing else.

But even Vukonich had heard of Harvard. And eventually he decided to make the big move--to the East and the land of indoor hockey rinks.

Minnesota Coach Doug Woog approached Vukonich after a hockey game one day in the spring of his senior year, when the acceptance letter to Harvard was already in the mail.

"We really took it to Harvard," said Woog, whose Goldem Gophers had defeated the crimson in the NCAA finals that year. "They're wimps."

Vukonich knew Woog was joking But still, he couldn't help thinking, "Someday...someday, we'll beat you down the road."

Woog and Stauber better get ready. Someday just might be someday soon.