By Ethan Sherwood Strauss

Alex Ovechkin, the transcendent 24-year-old Russian who has defibrillated hockey in our nation's capital as the star of the Washington Capitals, is a skating version of Ronald Reagan's Soviet bear, mauling imaginary hunters as he whips a blur of enormous limbs toward the goal. He's missing a front tooth, but that doesn't stop him from beaming a demented grin after every score.

Alex jumps, howls, pumps his fists, launches into the glass -- he does everything short of slurp gushing blood from the necks of opponents. His celebrations are displays of raw, animal energy that inspire awe in both senses of the word. If Ovechkin had existed in the Cold War era, he might have swung a few negotiations Russia's direction.

And his stick skills are what HD TV was made for. One of the constant laments of casual sports fans is that you can't see the puck. High-def reveals every Ovechkin movement. Somehow Alex's coordination keeps up with his frenetic pace as he dribbles between the legs of startled defenders. Ovechkin has an uncanny ability to fire loose pucks goalward, as though he can psychically foresee the results of chaos. He's simply a joy to watch.

He'll skate for Russia for the first time in the Vancouver Olympics Tuesday night at midnight EST against Latvia.

Three decades after the "Miracle on Ice," U.S. and Russian sports fans are living vicariously through the same athlete. We're serendipitously united in a way not seen since Rocky Balboa ended the Cold War. Not all is cheery, though. There's an ominous force up north and it's looking for trouble. Behind the Maple Curtain, Canadians are gnashing their teeth at every Ovechkin plaudit.

Salon