http://sports.espn.go.com/espnmag/story?id=3704410HOT. THAT'S the best word to describe Masha's music video, bouncy club pop interlaced with melancholy.
So who's the bigger celebrity in Russia? "It could have been me if I didn't stop my career," Masha says cheerfully. When the song "Saharniy" (translation: sugary) was released in 2002, Masha was already in Utah with Andrei for his sophomore season, raising their newborn. It shot to No.1 on MTV Russia, even without her around to promote it. There are no plans for a follow-up: "In any relationship, someone has to give up. I'm the one."
Masha grew up in Moscow, where her father played almost 20 years for the CSKA Moscow basketball team. "A very successful, very handsome man," she says. "And rich." He sent his daughter to an exclusive arts school in London and helped launch her first career. "I think the term is 'it girl,' " Masha says. "I was in all the magazines, like Bazaar and Vogue."
It shows when she gets in front of the camera. After a session with her personal stylist, the 32-year-old gives the photographer a pop-star look. It's who she is, at least in the off-season. "How do you call the life actors live? Let's say, glamour life," Andrei says. In Moscow, the Kirilenkos smile through a blur of red carpets and caviar, champagne for her and milk for him. "Lots of friends: actors, musicians, athletes. Let's say celebrities."
For seven months each year, they leave that life behind, like the working-class Soviets who once volunteered for long stints on Siberian farms to increase their income. "I have seven months when I can be patient," Kirilenko says, "and five months when I can go to nightclubs and nobody will say anything to me."
During those seven months, Masha waits patiently at home. And, yes, she knows what happens on the road. She met Andrei at an event organized by the marketing firm she founded. She knows what can start with a smile in the Miami airport, a knock on a hotel door in Cleveland. The wrong woman, at the wrong time, in the wrong place, with the wrong man. Her man. "Male athletes in this country are extremely attractive," she says. "They get chased by women. It's hard to resist. It's the way men are by nature."
She calls it Andrei's "allowance." Once a year he can have sex with another woman. One night. No affairs, no divided loyalty. She can live with that. It was her idea, offered as a gift.
"Of course, it was a surprise," Andrei says. "I'm not planning to do anything. But she said if you want to do it, you can do it."
Masha doesn't flinch. Her makeup is gone now, revealing earnest eyes and a pouting upper lip. But a ripple of doubt dances at the corner of her twitchy, introspective smile. "When this article comes out, girls will be lining up outside his hotel door," she says. Maybe married women will line up outside her front door brandishing picket signs after they read about her plan to keep her husband from making a mistake. "When I'm aware and I let him do it, it's not cheating."
Andrei says something in Russian, they laugh. "I don't think anyone can substitute him for me," Masha says.