Jari Kurri, Viacheslav Fetisov and Craig Patrick all were in the 1980 Olympics at Lake Placid. On different benches. Under different circumstances. Representing different nations. Soon, they all would be in the National Hockey League, and 21 years after the Winter Games and the Miracle on Ice, it might even be something in the realm of miraculous that the NHL has changed so much, they are going into the Hockey Hall of Fame together.

	Despite difficulties in leaving the USSR, Slava Fetisov brought the Stanley Cup back to Russia in 1997.

A Finn, a Russian, an American. The Finn is a pioneering legend in his homeland. The Russian is a hero, and not just in the athletic sense. The American, entering the Hall as Builder, a journeyman NHL right wing as a player and now the Penguins' general manager, is from a family whose service over the decades has been integral in the development of the sport in the United States. And they are going into the Hall of Fame with two Canadians, center Dale Hawerchuk and right wing Mike Gartner, who both played with class and dignity and speedy efficiency. Thrown together as a five-man unit (slide Patrick back to defense as an emergency tactic, and put the right-handed shot, Kurri, on the left wing in the more typical European fashion), they are an intriguing cross-section. Their group eloquently testifies about the progress of the sport before any of them step up to the podium for a speech.

Their acceptance into the NHL involved different degrees of difficulty, too. Patrick slid into the league after playing at the University of Denver. Hawerchuk was the much-touted No. 1 overall choice in the draft. Gartner was a fourth overall choice whose speed took your breath away.

Kurri had a few things to learn. And one of the lessons came early on a winter morning in a farmer's field in Stony Plain, Alberta, when a 20-year-old Kurri was wearing a bright orange, full-body snowmobiling outfit and holding a net. He was poised and patiently waiting for the highly prized snipes to show their beady little ... well, whatever snipes have.

In any snipe hunt, of course, there are beaters and netters. Anxious to be accepted, Kurri -- only a few months removed from being a marginal winger on the Finnish Olympic team, the one the Americans beat to clinch the gold medal -- was grateful to have been included in the expedition intricately plotted by teammate Garry Unger. Suddenly, after about an hour, a Royal Canadian Mounted Police car roared across the field, lights flashing, and a terrified Kurri was taken into custody, driven to the station, photographed, booked for poaching and had his visa confiscated.

Legend has it that Kurri told the arresting officer, "In Finland, it's quite all right to hunt the snipes."

Fetisov's rookie indoctrination was quite different. And it came nine years -- nine tough years -- after he was a star 22-year-old defenseman for the Soviet Union team the Americans beat earlier in the "Miracle On Ice." He didn't make it over to the NHL until 1989, with the Devils. Nobody asked him on a snipe hunt. Heck, it would have been great simply to be asked to dinner.

"When you fight for freedom and you find enemies in your own dressing room, it hurts," Fetisov said. "It hurts a lot. You ask yourself, 'Why did you fight? Why did you (expletive) go through all that (expletive) and you come here and nobody backs you up? I was here, I didn't speak any English, but I knew. I didn't have any support."

Fetisov's through-the-channels battle to leave the Soviet Union was both precedent-setting and courageous. It also has been discussed often, but the details remain stunning. As he waited for approval, Fetisov told coach Viktor Tikhonov he wouldn't play again for the Red Army team. He became a pariah. Married for less than a year, he and Ladlena Fetisov had to put up with their phone first being cut off, then having it used for harassment. He was defamed in concocted stories in the Soviet press. Most of his friends shunned him, especially those who didn't play hockey. An exception was Soviet chess champion Garry Kasparov. His parents were threatened and his mother broke into tears when Slava and his wife were over for dinner. The KGB followed him. He was ordered to put on his Army uniform -- which he had worn three times previously -- and answer the telephone in an office. And he was summoned to see minister of defense Dmitri Yazov.

	“	In the United States of America, this is probably the best example of how people can get together and not only fight together for something, but live in peace. Diplomats could find ways to resolve a lot of problems by looking at the NHL right now.”
		— Slava Fetisov

"They surrounded me with three generals," he said. "It was the scariest moment of my life. I told myself that if I didn't apologize right away, they would eat me up. But I stood my ground. Yazov was screaming, then he'd be nice, then he'd scream and threaten. He went bananas and the guards hit me from both sides, and they threw me out of the office."

That summer, after Fetisov actually argued his request to be allowed to play in North America in a Soviet court, he was granted permission to leave. He and Ladlena caught a flight out of Moscow in August 1989. Within a couple of years, most of the Red Army stars were in the NHL. While Alexander Mogilny and Sergei Fedorov defected, many players who followed weren't forced to make a choice, because of the actions of Fetisov and Igor Larionov, who both battled the system instead of fleeing from it. And over a decade later, with Fetisov on the Devils bench as an assistant coach, the NHL has changed so much, the Russian presence is taken for granted.

"One of the unique things about the NHL is that there are people from different countries on the same teams, fighting for the same goals," Fetisov said. "In the United States of America, this is probably the best example of how people can get together and not only fight together for something, but live in peace. Diplomats could find ways to resolve a lot of problems by looking at the NHL right now."

So what do they all have in common? As different as they are: It's class. Hawerchuk didn't wilt in the pressure of being a No. 1 pick, scored 601 goals and had a productive career, despite moving around. Gartner was a powerful voice in the game, as the president of the Players Association, and a beacon of professionalism and skill on the ice. Patrick parleyed a solid career to step into coaching and management, and he has served USA Hockey -- both the official organization and the loose term -- well. Kurri remains an icon for the league's Finnish players and in his homeland, and he quickly developed, especially after stepping onto Wayne Gretzky's line and being told he could do more than skate up and down his wing. Fetisov was -- and is -- a political and social trailbazer. Enough time has passed, in fact, that some of the younger Russians in the NHL don't even grasp the depth of his courage.

"I think in the beginning, others appreciated what I had done," he said. "Now, who cares? They come over, they do their job, they're here, they make big bucks, they're big shots. That's normal. Life always goes like that. People study history when they need it."

But the Hall of Fame is about history. And about saluting the men who made it.

Terry Frei of The Denver Post is a regular contributor to ESPN.com. His feedback email address is ChipHilton23@hotmail.com.