REALITY CHECK

Their hands were so capable, their bodies so strong. Vladimir Konstantinov, the rugged defenseman who never measured an opponent before checking him, and Sergei Mnatsakanov, the massage therapist who kneaded the aches out of the Detroit Red Wings’ muscles. Vital, powerful men who had reached the peak of their professions and had so much to enjoy.

Now, it is a major achievement if Konstantinov opens his eyes for more than a few moments or if Mnatsakanov wipes his brow and recognizes relatives.

Nearly three weeks after the limousine carrying Konstantinov, teammate Viacheslav Fetisov and Mnatsakanov home from the team’s final Stanley Cup party crashed into a tree, Konstantinov and Mnatsakanov still are emerging from comas at William Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak, Mich. They were in critical condition until last weekend and were upgraded to serious after Konstantinov managed to breathe on his own and Mnatsakanov--still breathing with a ventilator--was strong enough to shake doctors’ hands. Fetisov suffered a bruised lung, bruised ribs and a cut knee and was hospitalized for five days.

On June 7 they were heroes of an adoring city that had waited 42 years to exult. Six days later, they even did the right thing by renting the limo, anticipating they might drink at the golf outing. But it all went tragically wrong in a few seconds, reducing their world to a prison of twisted metal.

“At this point, we’d gladly give the Stanley Cup back in order to have the health of those two gentlemen,” said Jimmy Devellano, the Red Wings’ senior vice president for hockey operations. “Now, you start to think in terms more that you want them to be able to walk and talk and able to be with their families. Those are your priorities, not hockey.”

Said Red Wing fan Paul Everly of Roseville, Mich.: “It’s just a nightmare. The whole thing went from total euphoria to nothing. There’s been no celebrating since then. It’s almost as if nothing happened.

“It’s scary. It puts everything into perspective. It’s almost like you lost everything.”

Mnatsakanov, 43, had a bruise to the brain above his right ear and needed surgery to repair a spinal fracture. He is weak on his left side and may be paralyzed from the waist down, but doctors won’t know for sure until he fully emerges from the coma, which will be a prolonged process.

Konstantinov, 30, has a more severe head injury than Mnatsakanov because of widespread damage to microscopic fibers called axons in his brain. Axons, which help conduct nerve signals, were sheared off by substances in his cranial cavity by the rapid acceleration and deceleration of his brain in the crash. Axons don’t regenerate, but the brain can reroute some signals.

Konstantinov’s hockey career “is over, probably. You have to have all your wits and coordination to be able to play,” said Dr. Julian Hoff, head of the neurosurgery department at the University of Michigan. He is following the case as a fan and hasn’t been consulted or seen the two men’s records.

“The prognosis depends entirely on how many of those axons tear,” Hoff said. “Some patients heal completely, some are completely vegetative. Prizefighters are notoriously injured that way. People call them punch-drunk. . . . The longer the coma, the worse the outlook.”

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There’s no sign of the place where two lives were torn apart along the wide, grassy median that divides Woodward Avenue in Birmingham. A quick glance finds a tree with some bark missing, but it’s impossible to tell if it resulted from the weather or the impact of a white stretch limo traveling at 50 mph.

The site was easy to find in the first days after the crash, when fans gathered there for prayer vigils. They brought teddy bears--to honor Fetisov, known as “Papa Bear”--candles, signs and flowers. Red Wing center Sergei Fedorov stopped by at 3 one morning to thank them and dispel rumors the injured men had died. Police sent them home when they became a distraction and caused several accidents along the busy, eight-lane street. Others camped out for as long as 10 days on the lawn at Beaumont, a sprawling, brick complex a few miles away.

“There’s something in your heart that tells you that you have to go. Those guys are not just hockey players. They’re brothers. They’re part of our family,” said Denise Epke of Flint, who made a pilgrimage to the crash scene and is writing a book about the loyalty of Red Wing fans.

Konstantinov is immensely popular in Detroit. A rock-solid 6 feet tall and 190 pounds, he was nicknamed “the Vladinator,” after Arnold Schwarzenegger’s “Terminator” character. In a video shown often at Joe Louis Arena, he adopted a scowl and accent to growl, “Hasta la vista, baby.” He sometimes stepped over the boundary of dirty, but he had a fine season--he was a finalist for the Norris Trophy, awarded to best defenseman--and excelled in the playoffs, helping the Red Wings hold Colorado forward Peter Forsberg to two points in the semifinals and Philadelphia center Eric Lindros to one goal in the finals.

“You can’t help but like his attitude,” said Sheryl Czerwinski of Lapeer, an English teacher and avid fan. “He doesn’t look at the number of a player before he hits him, which is refreshing to Red Wing fans. We heard for years, ‘You can’t hit Gretzky and you can’t hit Lemieux,’ and we’re tired of that.

“He has a hard-working attitude, and in Detroit that’s what most of the people have, people who work in the auto industry or in other blue-collar jobs. The people of Detroit and Michigan appreciate that kind of attitude.”

Charges against limousine driver Richard Gnida, whose license had been revoked and who had been ticketed more than half a dozen times for offenses such as speeding and driving under the influence, await the results of toxicology tests. Results are expected next week. If they show drugs in his system, he could go to prison for as many as five years. If not, he would face as much as a year in jail for driving while his license was revoked. Preliminary tests ruled out alcohol as the reason he swerved across two lanes and onto the median, and witnesses said the road was unobstructed.

Red Wing Coach Scotty Bowman said Fetisov told him he felt the car drifting and feared Gnida had fallen asleep. Fetisov, who had his back to Gnida and faced Konstantinov and Mnatsakanov, shouted to alert Gnida but the sound was blocked by the partition separating driver and passengers. Gnida sustained only minor injuries, but Konstantinov and Mnatsakanov, unrestrained by seat belts, hurtled forward into the limousine’s bar.

“[Fetisov] said he was conscious when they opened the doors, although he was in shock,” Bowman said. “He remembers they opened up the doors and telling them the other guys were hurt.”

For Fetisov, the accident surely awakened memories of a 1985 crash he survived but which took the life of his younger brother, Anatoli. There were also reverberations for Bowman, whose playing career was ended in March 1951 when he was hit over the head by an opponent’s stick and was in a coma for 14 hours.

Though he knew what to expect, he was shaken by his visit to the intensive care unit. “It was hard to see them that way,” Bowman said. “Obviously, we were prepared for some of it, but it was a little more than we thought.”

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Konstantinov and Mnatsakanov show signs of emerging from their comas: Mnatsakanov communicates with gestures, and Konstantinov can open his eyes but isn’t as consistently responsive. Neither can speak because each underwent a tracheotomy, in which a tube is inserted into the windpipe to allow the passage of air and removal of secretions. “Mr. Mnatsakanov clearly can see and recognize the staff and his family. It’s a little less clear with Mr. Konstantinov,” said Dr. Karol Zakalik, a Beaumont neurosurgeon who has been involved with treatment for Mnatsakanov and Konstantinov.

Those who know them say Konstantinov’s wife, Irina, and Mnatsakanov’s wife, Elena, neither of whom have spoken publicly, have been remarkably strong, bolstered by frequent visits from current and former Red Wings. “The Konstantinovs and Mnatsakanovs are people of great emotional and spiritual strength,” said Dr. James Robbins, a trauma surgeon at Beaumont. “And I assure you that if it’s possible to will a person to health, that it will be done in this case, for both of these men.”

Fans have sent hundreds of get-well wishes to Joe Louis Arena, including cards, Bibles, dolls dressed as angels or as Jesus and an oil painting titled “Fight for Life.” A radio station in Denver sent a 10-foot-tall card signed by fans of the rival Colorado Avalanche. But the most unusual offering is an ornate book, whose cover is inlaid with a Red Wing logo. The last of the exquisitely detailed pages identifies the senders as inmates at the Hiawatha Correctional Facility, complete with serial numbers.

A celebrity charity game planned before the accident drew 15,501 fans to Joe Louis Arena on June 22, and some of the proceeds were channeled to Beaumont’s head injury fund for indigent patients.

A community united in joy has united again in grief. “You see signs on businesses everywhere, ‘Get well Vladdie and Sergei,’ and it makes you feel good to know everybody is rallying around them,” said Donna Bidigare of Roseville. “My family and I went to the celebrity game, and when Fetisov gave a speech [thanking fans for their support], it was very touching.

“These things happen for a reason. You may not know the reason right now, but maybe someday we will.”

And maybe someday, after years of therapy, Konstantinov and Mnatsakanov will resume a semblance of their lives.

“I’m sure the spirit of the athlete will come through in his ability to recover,” said Dr. Michael L.J. Apuzzo, professor of neurosurgery at USC and editor of the journal Neurosurgery. “What kind of physical condition you’re in and your will to win can make a difference.”