Freedom's Fury

I’m not a big documentary watcher. I’ve seen a few documentaries that I really enjoy, but I don’t usually go looking for them when I’m deciding on something to watch. For some reason, I prefer fiction over non-fiction for my escapism (this includes books as well as movies and TV). So why did I decide to watch a documentary about the 1956 Hungarian Olympic water polo team called Freedom’s Fury? I have a personal attachment to this film. My childhood experience is wrapped up in it.

I was born with severe asthma. As a kid, I spent countless hours in doctor offices and hospital rooms. I took every type of asthma medication available at the time. Asthma affected every aspect of my youth. I couldn’t go on school field trips without parental supervision. I couldn’t spend the night at friends’ houses without my inhalers and nebulizers. I couldn’t run the mile during PE. My doctor told me that I needed to strengthen my lungs and he suggested swimming as the means. I joined a summer league team (the North Lake Dolphins) when I was eight and my swimming career took off.

When I was 9 years old, a coach of the local United States Swimming club saw me swim and wanted me to join his team. USS (now called USA Swimming) is a competitive, year-round program designed to produce Olympic caliber swimmers. I swam for a program in Stockton, CA called Delta Valley Aquatics (DVA). I ended up competing in numerous swim meets, including Far Westerns, a short course and long course championship meet for Pacific area swimmers. I swam numerous events at PRT times and was considered one of the best swimmers in my age group (10 and under). So, what does any of this have to do with the documentary I am supposed to be reviewing? What is my personal tie to this film? It turns out that one of the subjects of the documentary is my old coach, a crazy Hungarian dude named Ervin Zador. Ervin taught me everything I know about swimming and was a huge influence on my character during my pre-teen years.

In the fall of 1956, the country of Hungary was in turmoil. Ever since the conclusion of WWII, Hungary had been occupied by the Soviet Army. Numerous puppet regimes had been put in place to keep the Hungarian people under Soviet influence. In 1956, students and journalists led a political demonstration march through the city of Budapest. The Soviet Union seemed willing to negotiate with the Hungarians at first, but soon went back on their word, leading to a violent conflict that left over 2,500 Hungarians and 722 Soviet soldiers dead. For more details, read about the revolution here. During this time, the Hungarian water polo team was preparing for the summer Olympics in Australia.

Ervin Zador, my old swim coach, was a key member of the 1956 Hungarian water polo team. He was a young, largely untested player that was called up from the club leagues to be a part of the team for the Olympics. Hungary has always had a reputation for great water polo, having won numerous Olympic medals in the past. The 1956 team would be no exception. During the semi-finals of Olympic play, they faced a team that they had trained just a few months earlier, the Soviets--a Soviet team that represented the country that had recently invaded Hungary and killed many its people. Anticipation of the match grew at a feverous pitch with spectators and media packing the venue. The game was one of the most violent water polo games of all time, featuring numerous fouls and cheap shots. Ervin Zador scored 2 of Hungary’s 4 unanswered goals. Near the end of the match, after much verbal taunting, a Russian player named Prokopov sucker punched Zador, opening a bloody gash on his face. Blood pooled in the water and the match was stopped. The zealous media snapped pictures of the bloodied Zador, declaring the contest the Blood in the Water Match. Zador’s injury prevented him from playing in the gold medal match, which Hungary won over Yugoslavia, 2-1. Following the Olympics, Ervin Zador was one of many Hungarian athletes to defect.

I remember hearing about this story as a kid, but I didn’t ever know the details. I knew Ervin had won a gold medal and I had seen the famous picture of him, bloodied at poolside. He didn’t talk about the game. He didn’t talk about that time at all. I remember seeing his gold medal once, at a party we had at his ranch house in Linden, CA. I don’t remember if he showed it to us or if one of his kids got it out (I suspect the latter). This documentary showed me a side of my coach that I didn’t get to see when I was swimming for him. It also reminded of his great personality, his always-positive attitude, and his genuine sense of humor. Ervin is featured in many of the interviews in the documentary and in my opinion is the star of the show. Freedom’s Fury is a well-made documentary that tells one of the greatest Olympic stories of all time. Lucy Liu and Quentin Tarantino produced it, so it has to be great, right? Check it out…with the 2008 Summer Olympics starting in a few weeks, now is a perfect time.