I’ve been a figure skating fan for close to 30 years. I got hopelessly hooked the moment I accidentally saw TH land her triple axel. In 2006 I got more serious, joining FSU, and starting to attend events. I never skated at all, let alone competitively. You’re kidding, right? I just like to watch beautiful people do impossible things. Yes, it’s cheesy, incomprehensible, political, cruel, subjective, silly, and dull. And endlessly entertaining, transcendent, shocking, ever evolving, strictly unpredictable, and utterly sublime. A friend wisely said that in order to impart the scope of Earthling culture to a Martian, FS would not be a bad place to start.
I’m retired now and one of the many benefits is being able to watch all the FS I like. This phenomenal season I saw probably 95% of the televised skating between the start of the Grand Prix events on October 20 and Worlds at the end of March. Short programs, long programs, exhibitions, all disciplines, all commentary. In some weeks this was equivalent to a full time job. I also attended Skate America in Lake Placid. I’m grateful to the DVR and the Olympics channel for its complete coverage of so many events. My enduring fandom, the profound richness of this Olympic year, and the time I had to devote to it have driven me to contemplate and summarize my experience in this love letter to figure skating.
First, my heartfelt and undying thanks to you, my fellow fans on FSU, for your knowledge, bracing snarkiness, generosity, and ardent fandom. When controversy rages, I can always find with you the necessary information, interpretation, and the broadest range of opinions. I’m equally indebted and grateful to all the wonderful seat- and arena-mates whose company, wisdom, and humor I’ve enjoyed at events. It’s always a wonderful surprise to encounter people who share my arcane passion and I find myself greedy for their company as much as I don’t wish to intrude unduly.
And to the skaters with whom I’ve shared these years of triumph, heartbreak, thrills, injustice, redemption, injury, breakthrough, come-back, humiliation, and wardrobe malfunctions: you have and will always inspire me every single day. Thank you for enduring those expensive hours at the cold and lonely rink; for sharing your nakedly intimate moments, sweet and bitter, with me and the world; for your perseverance, courage, creativity, and willingness to subject yourself to a sometimes gorgeous but always heartless sport and a judging system that can never be fair to everyone. How tall and mature you look on the ice; how compact and young you are in person. Thanks for your knees, your souls, your edges, and your finger tips.
And a sincere salute to the coaches and choreographers, as they attempt to bring out the best in each skater, see what’s missing and fill in the gaps, study the protocols and interpret the rules, accompany the devastated/overjoyed competitor in Kiss ’n Cry and then go resolutely back to work. It’s a delicate balance you must maintain—to encourage and protect your students, emotionally, physically, and mentally, all while driving them toward their highest possible achievement. I’m appreciative of the judges themselves, performing an essential, difficult, and thankless job as well as they do. And costume designers who contribute so much to the entertainment value, flavor, beauty, and variety of the sport. And parents who share and fund the dream. It takes a village.
What a stunning and glorious Olympic season. Has there ever been a richer, more moving, more surprising one? *This is a serious question.* Maybe I was so amazed and thrilled by it because I saw so much of it. I couldn’t have asked for more. Every competition was freighted and fraught and added another piece to the ultimate puzzle. The suspense mounted and built for months—years really.
As final competitors took the ice at each event, I often had the feeling that justice could not be done. In something like dismay I would watch the final warm up and ask myself who there did not deserve to win? who hadn’t put in enough time, who wasn’t talented, who didn’t have the ability and confidence, who didn’t care enough? And then in skate after skate the quantitative sorting out would take place, sometimes by a meaningless sliver, and yet the results would soon seem inevitable and almost pre-ordained. Competitors were handed their cups of sweet or bitter wine. What a mythic quality to this season, but I can’t wait for the next!
Deanna Stellato has bracketed my experience with the sport more than any other individual. I never forgot her spectacular early career, nor did I ever expect to see her on the ice again (in person!) or that she would find new success when she did. I deeply regret a missed opportunity to meet her in Lake Placid last fall. An arbitrary and incomplete list of other skaters who have moved me and sustained me over the years: Michelle Kwan, Todd Eldredge, Betchke & Petrov, Yuka Sato, Sasha Cohen, Emmanuel Sandhu, Trifun Zivanovich, Takeshi Honda, Brian Orser, Shen & Zhao, Alisa Czisny, Drobiazko & Vanegas, Zagorska & Scuidek, Kurt Browning, Gordeeva & Grinkov, Rohene Ward, Shizuka Arakawa, Adam Rippon, Hubble & Donohue, James & Cipres. This list omits many beloved GOATs, only because you’ll think of them yourselves.
It’s been an incredible ride and I’m still holding on. Figure skating is my sport, for better or worse. I’m wedded to it, and so are we all.
I’m retired now and one of the many benefits is being able to watch all the FS I like. This phenomenal season I saw probably 95% of the televised skating between the start of the Grand Prix events on October 20 and Worlds at the end of March. Short programs, long programs, exhibitions, all disciplines, all commentary. In some weeks this was equivalent to a full time job. I also attended Skate America in Lake Placid. I’m grateful to the DVR and the Olympics channel for its complete coverage of so many events. My enduring fandom, the profound richness of this Olympic year, and the time I had to devote to it have driven me to contemplate and summarize my experience in this love letter to figure skating.
First, my heartfelt and undying thanks to you, my fellow fans on FSU, for your knowledge, bracing snarkiness, generosity, and ardent fandom. When controversy rages, I can always find with you the necessary information, interpretation, and the broadest range of opinions. I’m equally indebted and grateful to all the wonderful seat- and arena-mates whose company, wisdom, and humor I’ve enjoyed at events. It’s always a wonderful surprise to encounter people who share my arcane passion and I find myself greedy for their company as much as I don’t wish to intrude unduly.
And to the skaters with whom I’ve shared these years of triumph, heartbreak, thrills, injustice, redemption, injury, breakthrough, come-back, humiliation, and wardrobe malfunctions: you have and will always inspire me every single day. Thank you for enduring those expensive hours at the cold and lonely rink; for sharing your nakedly intimate moments, sweet and bitter, with me and the world; for your perseverance, courage, creativity, and willingness to subject yourself to a sometimes gorgeous but always heartless sport and a judging system that can never be fair to everyone. How tall and mature you look on the ice; how compact and young you are in person. Thanks for your knees, your souls, your edges, and your finger tips.
And a sincere salute to the coaches and choreographers, as they attempt to bring out the best in each skater, see what’s missing and fill in the gaps, study the protocols and interpret the rules, accompany the devastated/overjoyed competitor in Kiss ’n Cry and then go resolutely back to work. It’s a delicate balance you must maintain—to encourage and protect your students, emotionally, physically, and mentally, all while driving them toward their highest possible achievement. I’m appreciative of the judges themselves, performing an essential, difficult, and thankless job as well as they do. And costume designers who contribute so much to the entertainment value, flavor, beauty, and variety of the sport. And parents who share and fund the dream. It takes a village.
What a stunning and glorious Olympic season. Has there ever been a richer, more moving, more surprising one? *This is a serious question.* Maybe I was so amazed and thrilled by it because I saw so much of it. I couldn’t have asked for more. Every competition was freighted and fraught and added another piece to the ultimate puzzle. The suspense mounted and built for months—years really.
As final competitors took the ice at each event, I often had the feeling that justice could not be done. In something like dismay I would watch the final warm up and ask myself who there did not deserve to win? who hadn’t put in enough time, who wasn’t talented, who didn’t have the ability and confidence, who didn’t care enough? And then in skate after skate the quantitative sorting out would take place, sometimes by a meaningless sliver, and yet the results would soon seem inevitable and almost pre-ordained. Competitors were handed their cups of sweet or bitter wine. What a mythic quality to this season, but I can’t wait for the next!
Deanna Stellato has bracketed my experience with the sport more than any other individual. I never forgot her spectacular early career, nor did I ever expect to see her on the ice again (in person!) or that she would find new success when she did. I deeply regret a missed opportunity to meet her in Lake Placid last fall. An arbitrary and incomplete list of other skaters who have moved me and sustained me over the years: Michelle Kwan, Todd Eldredge, Betchke & Petrov, Yuka Sato, Sasha Cohen, Emmanuel Sandhu, Trifun Zivanovich, Takeshi Honda, Brian Orser, Shen & Zhao, Alisa Czisny, Drobiazko & Vanegas, Zagorska & Scuidek, Kurt Browning, Gordeeva & Grinkov, Rohene Ward, Shizuka Arakawa, Adam Rippon, Hubble & Donohue, James & Cipres. This list omits many beloved GOATs, only because you’ll think of them yourselves.
It’s been an incredible ride and I’m still holding on. Figure skating is my sport, for better or worse. I’m wedded to it, and so are we all.
