Vukonich: The Gentle Giant

Mike Vukonich originally didn't want to come to Harvard and three years ago it seemed like maybe he shouldn't have.

The freshman Vukonich, who is now affectionately known as Vuke, reeked of his Duluth, Minn. upbringing, and his matriculation at Harvard was straight out of the trite tradition of "small-town kid comes to big city."

Vuke's Great White North accent was a sharp contrast to stodgy Hahvahd rapport. His simple values didn't seem to fit in with the hustle-bustle of the nation's top university. His friendliness and down-to-earth personality were a far cry from the Hobbesian world of urban Boston.

When the pure and naive Vuke arrived in Cambridge, he would walk through Harvard Square and say "Good Morning" to everyone he passed by, getting depressed when people returned the greeting with funny looks. When Vuke failed his first test at Harvard, an Ec 10 hourly, he looked at himself as the only mistake Harvard had made in 350 years.

But Vukonich came to Harvard to play hockey, and then-wizard recruiter and Assistant Coach Ronn Tomassoni made no mistake in recruiting the 6-ft., 3-in. 215-lb. standout. Vukonich put on a Crimson uniform in 1987 with the best recruiting class in the country--which also included classmates Peter Ciavaglia, Ted Donato and John Weisbrod.

Now, after four glorious years wearing number 29, Vuke has emerged as one of the best players in college hockey. Many people, including players on the Harvard team, consider him to be the best of his prominent classmates and the most legitimate NHL prospect on the Crimson squad.

"He's an awfully skilled hockey player," Tomassoni said. "He's really a complete package. He's got the size, he's got the speed, he's got a cannon of a shot and he's an excellent skater."

"There's not much denying that Vuke's the best pro prospect that Harvard's had in years," Weisbrod said. "Vuke lacks nothing."

A fifth-round draftee of the Los Angeles Kings in 1987, Vukonich hopes to eventually join The Great One in Smogville.

"Obviously, when you look at the NHL they put a premium on size and he's definitely got that," Tomassoni said. "And he's got a lot more ability than a lot of players who are in the NHL."

Vuke's immediate plans, however, are to attend the Olympic Festival in July, where he hopes to be chosen as a member of the 1992 United States Olympic Team.

Mellow Yellow

In many ways, Vuke's small-town Midwestern background translates onto the playing surface. He is a gentle giant of sorts whose mellow persona on the ice makes few realize just how good a player he is. He is not one to yell in the pre-game locker room, nor get involved in pointless brawls. He gets the job done casually and quietly.

"I'm a big person and maybe I should be out there killing guys, but that's not my mentality," Vukonich said. "It's not that I'm afraid of the rough stuff. I'd just rather take the puck and go with it."

When Vukonich takes the puck and goes with it, he flies. At a recent practice Vukonich raced Assistant Coach and speedy 1989 Hobey Baker Award-winner Lane MacDonald in a race to see if the rest of the team would have to do wind sprints. Vukonich prevailed and practice ended early.

And no matter what Harvard netminder Allain Roy quips, the reason for Vuke's goal-scoring ability is not line-mate and roommate Ciavaglia's awesome assists. Vukonich has a natural nose for the goal and his shot is one of the hardest in Division I hockey.

Vuke exploded between sophomore and junior year. During his first two years he racked up only 40 points. Last year, Vukonich played first line with seniors John Murphy and Captain C.J. Young and racked up 51 points (22 goals and 29 assists). The effort garnered Vukonich First-Team All-Ivy, First-Team All-ECAC and New England Sportswriters Most Improved Player Honors.

This year, playing on the superline with Ciavaglia and Donato, Vuke again finished third among all ECAC forwards in points (behind Ciavaglia and Donato), and his 31 goals topped the league. He silenced the critics who said he was incapable of having the big game by netting his first two collegiate hat tricks.

While Vuke would love to catch his league-leading roommate in points, he is happy to see Ciavaglia--whose 57 points this season was one short of the ECAC record--excel.

"People call me and [Ted Donato] and Pete the Fabulous Baker Boys, but Pete is the only one of us who really has a shot at winning the Hobey Baker," Vukonich said. "I'm not mad at him or jealous of him. Pete deserves it--he's played so consistent all year. I'd give him all my points so that he could win the Hobey Baker."

It is sometimes hard to match Vukonich the player to Vukonich the person. Vuke retains his Midwestern aura of naivete and simplicity, despite four years in big-time college hockey.

"On the ice, he's got these larger than life qualities--size, strength and speed," Weisbrod said. "Off the ice, people expect bigger than life qualities, but he's so down-to-earth."

He and Ciavaglia are not socialites. They rarely drink or go to parties. They have furnished Kirkland L-42 with spacious sofas and hi-fi stereo equipment, and they love to simply hang out in their comfortable pad--except when they are eating and playing hockey.

Four days after two losses to Cornell prematurely ended the Crimson's season last year, the roomies were so bored that they went out and bought Nintendo. Now they are extremely competitive players of Super Mario Brothers. Earlier this year, they bought a beat-up Volkswagen for 1000 bucks just so they could satisfy their lust for golf. During the off-season the duo travels to the links at least once a week.

A Long Way Home

Freshman year, the adjustment wasn't so easy. Given Vuke's background, it was no surprise that he hated Harvard. Vukonich's then-best friend and fellow South Yardling Weisbrod hated Harvard too, and the two hockey pals would often complain about school together, second guessing their decisions to come to Cambridge.

It was pure irony that Weisbrod and Vukonich both ended up at Harvard. The two--dubbed the twin Towers upon their arrival at Harvard--had originally met in the press box at a Colorado-Denver hockey game. Weisbrod, a New York native, was a Denver recruit and was sitting with the Denver Coach. Vukonich was a Colorado recruit and was with the Colorado coach.

Weisbrod and Vukonich would meet again miles and miles away in Cambridge, at a school neither had really ever expected to attend. Weisbrod actually verbally committed to Denver before deciding at the last minute to come to Harvard. Vukonich wanted to attend the University of Minnesota but was forced by his parents to come to Harvard.

"Growing up in Minnesota, all you know about is the WCHA [Western College Hockey Association]," Vukonich said. "You really don't hear a lot about Eastern schools. The best players in Minnesota are supposed to stay there."

But four years of Harvard hockey has made Vukonich love the place. Now, he couldn't imagine having played anywhere else. And especially not in Minnesota. After all, as a Golden Gopher Vukonich would have been on the opposing side of Ed Krayer's magical goal in 1988. Instead, Vuke centered the third line on the national championship Crimson and had his most glorious moment ever in a hockey uniform.

And with either a return trip to Minnesota or the end of his college playing days on the line this weekend, Vukonich wants to extend his Harvard tenure as long as possible. Between periods in game two against Rensselaer last weekend, Vukonich pondered the fact that every game at this point could be his last in a Harvard uniform.

"You think it can't happen," Vukonich said. "I can't imagine not playing for Harvard anymore. What are we going to do with all the time? We'll play Nintendo for the rest of our lives."