Just like in Soviet times, Russia's Olympic team has been burdened with a mission of state importance – to give the Russian people an injection of national pride. Olympic victories would be the perfect rallying call for the Kremlin in its search to consolidate the people around a national idea.

A foretaste of what big wins could mean for the man on the street came last week, when the nation reveled in 20-year-old Marat Safin's win over tennis legend Pete Sampras in the U.S. Open men's singles title after a month of disasters and bad news.

"The way he's playing, he's the future of the game," Sampras said after his 6-4, 6-3, 6-3 thrashing. President Vladimir Putin reportedly sent Safin a letter stating, "We are proud that today's victor is a Russian."

It's up to sports psychologists to say whether or not an athlete will play at maximum potential when so great a portion of the state's national pride rests on his shoulders. Nonetheless, Putin sent the Russian team on its way, instructing them to "inspire confidence and success in the hearts of Russians."

"We're not just preparing for a successful performance from our athletes. The issue is also about Russia's international prestige," Putin said at a meeting of the Olympic committee before the Russian team's departure for Australia. "We need the joy of a common victory. Sometimes, sporting victories can mean more than a hundred political slogans."

Vladimir Rimsky, the head of the Indem sociological foundation, said that the use of sport as an element of ideology is completely natural and one that's familiar to Russians, most of whom grew up in a Soviet Union where everything possible was incorporated into ideology.

"For ideology, sport is a way of appropriating the ideas of struggle and opposition," Rimsky said. "This was how it was in the Soviet era, when sport was an ideological element in the struggle against ‘damned imperialism.' Our sporting successes were supposed to be proof of the superiority of our system."

But Rimsky added that in putting such high stakes on sport, the Kremlin spin doctors were taking a risk. This is because with last-minute propaganda efforts it won't be easy to have a consolidated impact on mass consciousness. This seems all the more true since even the most optimistic predictions don't promise any particular success.

"The authorities are trying to use the Olympics because they, or the spin doctors at least, are hungry for anything that could have a positive effect," Rimsky said. "But this is a calculation based on emotions, and they forget that today one emotion might dominate, but tomorrow, it could be completely different. The first real defeat or loss by our sportsmen could ruin the whole idea."

"The fact is that we're going to the Olympics without being sure that we can win," Rimsky said. "Everyone knows, our own people included, that in difficult economic conditions, it's hard to have good sport. We shouldn't assume the people are so stupid that they don't see this."

But perhaps both the spin doctors and sports officials do understand this. Recent rumors that Russian athletes will fall victim to prejudiced judges and referees are being interpreted by independent analysts as a sort of insurance policy in case of defeat.

"Maybe in some sports, prejudiced judges can have an impact, but not on a mass scale," Rimsky said. "Our PR people have already begun justifying things and are taking a defensive approach, but this isn't a winning tactic. And in the end, if you're stronger and get another five punches in, no prejudiced referee will get in your way."

Rimsky said that even in today's situation, the Olympics could have been used as an ideological resource if their potential had been remembered earlier and a campaign to support Russia's team begun sooner. He said that a feeling of responsibility toward the Russian people and support from them could be a real incentive for the Olympic team, but the public should have been made aware of this earlier.

"I used to play sport myself, and I know that it's a great help when you feel the responsibility and you know you've got people solidly behind you," Rimsky said, recalling his days cross-country skiing. "I always performed better in a team, in the relay, when I knew I had to score points for the team."

Meanwhile, Russia's athletes have been offered extra motivation in the form of $50,000 for a gold medal, $30,000 for a silver and $10,000 for a bronze.

Anatoly Ilyin, 69, who scored the U.S.S.R. soccer team's winning goal at the 1956 Olympics, said he welcomed the move.

"We were oriented to taking part and winning and were not interested in financial matters," he said. "This task is always the same in sport, but reinforcing it with money can be seen as a sign of the state's attention and gratitude."

Whether the team will be able to give Russians cause to forget their daily problems for a while is not certain. At least, the pressure isn't quite the same as in Soviet days when even a second place result was considered a defeat. In today's Russia, any success by the Russian athletes will be considered a victory, observers say. And no one will draw attention to defeats, so as not to upset the people, who have enough problems as it is.