Look at this. I got it from Pavel Lysenkov's tweet. At first I thought it was a joke, but Pavel replied it was no joke and suggested to read SovSport.ru. Here it is:
Thousands of people lined up for an autograph. More than a thousand people gathered in the narrow aisle. The guards and the fences could hardly contain the crowd. During the session there are minor skirmishes, but guards still manage to avoid the jostle. Judging by the capacity of the narrow corridors one can get a treasured autograph maybe the next day, and in any case, there still will be a lot of unhappy people who won't get it.Un-freaking-belivable... :-)
The organizers couldn't imagine how many people were wishing to get an autograph or take pictures with the idol. That's why a gigantic line gathered in the hallway of the arena. It almost came to a jostle.
In addition, as the third period has just started, the police roughly pushed the fans, and Alexander Ovechkin took his place on the podium, while several hundred people were cut. Some of them confessed that they got in line in the first period.
Update: More from Moscow Dynamo web site:
Here's the video of crowd for Ovechkin's autograph. Crazy.
Here's more from Nicholas Cotsonika, Yahoo Sports writer, who was actually at the game:
There were hundreds of people, actually thousands. They had come to see one of their modern Russian hockey heroes, Alex Ovechkin, only to find he wasn't playing because of illness – only to find they would be able to see him, anyway.
The announcement came during the second period of Dynamo Moscow's game against Dinamo Riga on Monday night: Ovechkin, the locked-out captain of the Washington Capitals, would be signing autographs on the second-floor concourse during intermission. Even though it was a one-goal game, the stands emptied immediately. The fans lined up behind metal barricades. They leaned over the third-floor overhang, knowing they would have no chance to meet him there, but a better chance to see him.
And then there he was, surrounded by three guards, wearing his white No. 32 Dynamo jersey and stylishly ripped jeans. Ovechkin waded through the crowd and waved. He took a picture with a kid in a wheelchair. Then he signed, and signed, and signed, and signed. Little kids. Old ladies. Grown men. He signed hats and scarves and shirts and jerseys. He signed pictures and programs and whatever else a marker could mark.
It was very cool. Maybe Ovechkin passed along some germs – sounds like bronchitis, and Mikhail said he's supposed to be out a week – but it was worth it.
Ovechkin signed as fast as he could. He posed for picture after picture. The guards barked at people to keep moving. When the intermission ended, Mikhail whisked him away. He didn't get to everyone – not even close – but there was no way he could have. Not unless he wanted a serious hand cramp. Not unless Dynamo didn't care if anyone watched the third period.