#whose fans got min players confused as to when the game ended...

[the-physicality]

no offense to pwhl ottawa or the media but they are not doing nearly as much as montreal or minnesota fans

[csykora]

i don't know if you know the answer, but if you do, would you mind explaining why some Russian names are always transliterated the same way (like Никита to Nikita), but some very much aren't? i've seen Evgeni, Evgeny, Evgenii, Yevgeni, and Yevgeny - is one 'more right' than the others?

Thanks for asking! You’re right, there’s some whacky variation in the League right now, and it’s something I’ve been wanting to talk about for a while.

(I’m going to focus on North American English speakers: if you’re not, sorry! The basics should still apply and make sense.)

The NHL follows the International Ice Hockey Federations 2011 standard for transcription of Russian names. Probably.

The NHL is a loose confederation of franchises. Historically, it’s been up to each team what they wrote on their Russian players’ jerseys. A lot of their creations were more artistic than phonetically accurate, but the surname would stay pretty consistent for PR and jersey purposes. First names were a free for all, with the team and official NHL media or licensed materials like video games all spelling them differently.

It’s still technically up to teams, but since 2011 the League is pushing a little harder to pick one spelling and stick with it across all media, and to have the spelling reflect how the name should be said.

Any Russian player who came over before 2011 is grandfathered in as whatever spelling they were assigned at the time, for PR reasons. (Like Craig MacTavish being the only one on the ice without a helmet, but less horrible.) Anyone who debuts in the League today should, theoretically, be assigned a spelling that follows the new rules.  

The IIHF transcription standard has three basic principles:

Sound-emulating: Yevgeni instead of Evgeny

Simplicity: Yevgeni instead of Yevgeny, Alexander instead of Aleksandr

Consistency: same spelling for same name (and different spelling for different names)

Sound-emulating  

What does Russian sound like?

This is one of my recital pieces, Tchaikovsky’s Moy geni, moy angel. Music is a great snapshot of the sounds that a language likes to use, particularly the vowels. Listening here, you’re going to hear a lot of “eh” and “ooh”, a lot of soft schwa sounds, and no “ae” or “oh”—the only long vowel is “ee”. You might pick up an odd nasal quality to a lot of those sounds, as if the singer is actually say, “yeh” or “yoo”.

Russian has different phonemes than North American English. A phoneme is “any of the speech sounds which are perceived to be a single distinctive sound in the language. An example is the English phoneme /k/, which occurs in words such as cat, kit, scat, skit.” There are a couple Russian consonants that seem to give English-speakers trouble (most obviously Ж in hockey fandom. The (Y)evgeni(i)ys just have to go and confuse North Americans more by also calling each other Женя, “Zhenya”, which fans often try to say with a G or a J sound. It’s pronounced like the S in “pleasure” or “treasure.”) But mostly, it’s all about the vowels, which don’t line up with English spelling or pronunciation very neatly.

In North American schools your teacher probably talked about how English has long and short vowel sounds.

And Y does double duty, as a mystery vowel and a consonant that can jump in before or after other vowels.

You’re not really going to hear any long vowel sounds in Russian, except for ē. Instead, Russian has hard and soft vowels:

The hard vowels are close to English short vowels. The matching soft vowel is pronounced pretty much the same but you glide into them with a “y” sound.

So Э and E are  “ĕ” and “yĕ.”  

O and ё are “ŏ” and “yŏ.” 

(Standard Russian speakers splinch O and A (“ŏ” and “ă”) into a schwa sound, a phenomenon called аканье/akanye.)

And so on.

The exception is Ы and и, who are both shifty characters. Ы drifts between ĕ and ĭ,  and и moves between ĭ and the long e sound.

(“и” also happens to mean “and.” You’ll hear hockey players, especially Kuznetsov, make a sort of horrible high-pitched eeeee sound all the time in interviews. That’s Russian Hockey Player for “…uh….” )

й is the Cyrillic character for the Y-consonant sound after a vowel, as in “Moй/Moy”. The symbols ь and Ъ can also appear on their own, and they palatalize the consonant before (adding a sort of Y twist to the end of it), or explicitly forbid you from doing that. This sound is rendered with a J or a Y after the consonant in different Russian transliteration systems. The IIHF uses Y.

So when we get transliterating, we’re going to have to have Ys all up in everything.

Евгений 

This is where the many Yevgenis come in. 

Every Евгений is best said as “Yev-gen-ee-y.” (I’d say it kind of ends in a little Y twist, but that’s because it’s kind of easier to say and a Cyrillic spelling artifact. You say “Yevgeneeee” or “Yevgenee-y” depending on your natural voice and how quickly you’re speaking.)

You don’t necessarily say the first syllable with a heavy Y like “yeah,” but the glide has to be there. “Eh-vgen-ee” would be an entirely different name, spelled Эвгений. And Э just isn’t a very popular sound in Russian: only 2 male names start with it. Maybe there’re some hipster parents out there naming their son Эвгений right now to annoy people, but otherwise, no.

Simplicity

Since Y is playing an important role in the basic vowels, we don’t really want to use it to represent the long e sound the way it sometimes does in English.

So “Yevgeni” is preferred over “Yevgeny” or “Yevgeniy.” Yevgeniy is the most technically accurate, but let’s be honest, North Americans are going to pronounce them all the same and the second two are just way too much Y.

The one time you will see reliably Ys standing alone is in patronymics. Yevgeni Kuznetsov’s father is also named Yevgeni, so his full, intensely boring name is Евгений Евгеньевич. “Yevgeneey Yevgen-ee-e-vich” is not exactly a delight to have to say. The suffix -евич/-evich means something, so you don’t change the letters in there, but you can drop the last vowel of the first name and palatalize the last consonant, making it into an easier “nyuh” sound. So it becomes “Yevgenyuh-evich,” which we can transliterate as Yevgenyevich. 

With a name like “Aleksandr,” the IIHF standard says go ahead and spell it as the familiar “Alexander,” because you’re gonna pronounce the two the say anyway.

Consistency

So every Евгений whose name is pronounced the same way should be spelled the same way—and players whose names are pronounced differently…should be spelled differently.

Семён и Сёмин

The IIHF standards were introduced after feedback from Russian players, most directly Semyon Varlamov.

By 2011 the NHL had officially spelled Varlamov’s given name, Семён, as:

Simeon

Semyen

Simyan

Simyon

Semin

and of course, Semen.

Ah, cross-cultural respect.

Listen, the fact it’s Varlamov makes that feel just. But it was being done randomly to everyone. 

And it was especially on the nose because Varlamov was on the same team as  Александр Сёмин—Alexander Semin.

Semin’s surname, Сёмин, is pronounced something like “Syaw-min”. (Akanye turns it into an A-sound, which is how his nickname, Сёмa, is pretty much pronounced “Sam,” rather than the way North American fans probably read it when they see “Sema.”) Under IIHF rules, his current KHL jersey is spelled SYOMIN.

But when he entered the NHL someone said, “That sure looks like an e to me,” and wrote down “S-E-M-I-N” Few years later that same spelling wizard looked at Семён (pronounced “Sim-yawn”) and said, “Man, I got this.”

Team officials, media, fans, even their teammates read the Latin spellings, naturally assumed their names were pronounced the same way, and went around calling both of them the same thing. Someone yells something that sounds like “semen” in the locker room, or on the ice in the middle of a game, and both of them have to turn around.

Semyon addressed the pronunciation with media, pointed out the confusion with his own teammate, filed paperwork to officially change the spelling (because he had to do that, the League had functionally taken away his name), and contacted the IIHF to ask them to step in, which they did.

(Semin did…nothing, because he would literally rather turn into a snow leopard and run away to nap in the sunshine and eat flowers and squirrels and live in the forest forever than talk to an official. So his name is still spelled SEMIN.)

More “Right”

Pronunciation isn’t a moral issue. As we grow up, our mouths learn to shape the phonemes we’re using all the time and our brains trim away the nerve connections for making sounds we don’t need. Some of us can learn some of those back, and some of us can’t, and we certainly can’t learn very well if we don’t have examples and help.

And it is strikingly hard to find that for Russian in North America.

Until the ’90s, management and especially announcers had no way to hear names pronounced before they had to try to spell or say them because there was no real cultural exchange between North America and the USSR: no TV, no radio, no way to hear the voices of Russian people except briefly on the ice. Miracle had Al Michaels recreate his goal calls because at the time he’d only had a hasty list of the Soviet line-up that he begged off the officials, and he took a wild swing at Vyacheslav Fetisov. A decade later Fetisov came to America and we were able to hear him speak and learn his name.

It’s unimaginable now, but when Ovechkin was drafted, many broadcasters were calling him “Alexander ov-itch-kin,” not “Oh-veh-chkin.” Because they actually did do their homework: they were trying to listen to Russian-language broadcasters and recreate their pronunciation. If you hear a Russian speaker say it, the middle vowel does sound a lot more like an I than a drawling North American “eh.” But then we all said it a thousand times a day and our mouths settled into sounds that are comfortable for us.

Which is fine, we’re not in any way Wrong for calling him “Oh-veh-chkin.” Just saying a Russian person’s name differently than native speakers say it isn’t a horrible thing. (‘Native speakers’ of every language fight each other all the time, too.) What matters is respect: trying our best to transliterate and pronounce a name shows that we’re listening to that person and we’re valuing them.

I think it says something that it’s still hard to hear any Russian in North America, it’s still hard to learn these names, and so we still say them in a very North American way.  Even if we’re not the ones making it, the Russian voice still mostly exists in our consciousness as a joke.

Sometimes that joke feeds into innocent not-quite-accuracies. And sometimes like with the Se(i)(y)(o)mi(y)(o)ns, it feeds something that feels a little…less of us.

It’s been 16 years* and we’re still turning their names, one of the few personal things they were able to bring with them to the foreign world of North America, into dick jokes. It’s hardly the worst insult in the world or in the NHL: making each others’ names into dick jokes is hockey players’ primary sport. It’s just that the foundation of the joke is, “I actually didn’t take the time to listen to you say your own name,” and that makes it seem small of us. And it seems smaller after they made repeated requests and took legal action to ask for their names back, and we’ve not only kept doing it, most of us don’t know or remember that they asked us to stop.

some very much aren’t

It’s worth remembering Russians still make up a small percentage of the NHL, and most of the active Russian NHLers came over before 2011.The Russian voice in North American hockey is still small. So the spelling of Russian names is still controlled by North Americans NHL officials, and it’s a small and wild pool of possible spellings. Change comes slowly, if it comes at all.

Most of the new prospects’ surnames do seem to have been effectively standardized, but I’m not really sure where future Yevgenis stand at this point in the NHL. Евгений Свечников is the newest I know of: under IIHF rules he’s Yevgeni Svechnikov, but it seems he’s still being spelled “Evgeny” in the NHL. Because it’s such a common name and several Yevgeni-spelled-Evgenys have been high-profile players, we’re all already used to seeing Evgeni and Evgeny, and NHL officials might easily choose to keep using them for PR reasons.

This was fun! somebody ask me about nicknames or patronymics or the Czechs next, please. I need to keep expanding my embarrassing tabloid glitterbomb vocabulary.