Synchroland
February 26, 2008
I’m not a synchronized skater. The closest I ever came was participating in a few wobbly kick-lines and terrifying pinwheels in club ice shows when I was a little kid. You could argue that the intricacy of freedances or the footwork of pair skating has some similarities, and I coach a lot of synchro skaters individually on their ice dance and moves in the field, so I’ve developed a loose understanding of the discipline over the years. But I’ve never been to a synchronized competition…that is, until this weekend. I was in Providence for the 2008 Synchro Nationals and it was quite an adventure.
It was almost like visiting another country.
I discovered that we all breathe the same air and the landscape is comparable but the language is somewhat different and the customs are quite foreign. It helped that I had a wise and intrepid travel buddy and that I knew a lot of the locals. I was also fortunate that my passport a.k.a. press credential granted me access to one of the most interesting and exclusive regions: backstage.
Like any stereotypical tourist, I had my camera in hand and I was often unfolding my map (schedule) and gazing around with confusion. Fortunately, the locals were extremely friendly and eager to share their culture with me. And, despite the fact that all of the tribes are separately vying to scale a beautiful mountain called The Podium, this country is not in a state of complete mayhem. Frankly, I was struck by what an organized and sophisticated civilization it is.
One of the first things I noticed is that the synchronized schedule is incredibly specific. Of course it needs to be, because there is a limited amount of territory in which to fit all those skaters. The timetable doesn’t just tell you what time each event starts, it includes: Enter Dress Room, Leave Dress Room, Wait at Rink Side, Enter Competition Rink, Leave Rink, Photo, and Leave Dress Room, all down to the minute. From what I could tell, it ran pretty close to the published times.
I also immediately noticed that there were a lot of pre-competition rituals including off-ice warm-ups that looked almost exactly like aerobics classes or yoga classes or military exercises. I was surrounded by cheerleading-style cheers, stereos cranking out specific songs, and groups of girls belting out lyrics. I gathered that many are beholden to quirky yet powerful superstitions. I witnessed lots of inspirational pow-wows and noted that the tribal leaders (coaches) were obviously well-versed in motivational speaking.
But all of these traditions are trifles compared to the more complicated and mystifying things I observed out on the ice. Once the skaters stepped onto the rink, they effectively became clones of one another. Of course this was true as far as hair, make-up, and dresses, but it was also (mostly) true of the skating. Because for most of the events I was sitting far up in the stands (where there was also a perch for my beloved laptop), I couldn’t really see individual faces. Therefore, my attempts at following specific skaters through the program were at times futile. If I lost track of a particular skater, it was often difficult to find her again.
So, from my aerial view, I mainly watched the teams as a whole and was impressed by the different shapes they managed to form while moving in unison. The way the best groups constantly shifted and changed direction with their skirts swirling reminded me of a kaleidoscope.
One of my favorite elements was what I came to affectionately refer to as “Snakey Spirals” where two or three lines of linked skaters did triple change-of-edge spirals (i.e. inside-outside-inside) parallel to one another. I also liked the “Nomadic Circle” (again, my term), which traveled from one end of the ice to the other while spinning and maintaining its shape. And related, but even more spectacular, was the “Donut” (once again, my term) where a small circle spun along inside a bigger one, also while traveling. I couldn’t help but marvel at yet another popular trick where lines of skaters rotated beside one another, timed so that they barely missed hitting each other, the effect of which was like a row of revolving doors.
I think that one of the craziest aspects of Synchroland are the Intersections (and that one is a real term). Elsewhere, we’ve become accustomed to waiting our turn at four-way stops, but in synchronized skating everyone apparently has the green light and is supposed to cross through the intersections at the same time! We’re talking about 16-20 athletes aiming toward each other with all kinds of turns and footwork steps and managing (for the most part) to pass by each other without crashing! It is a miracle that there are not more collisions.
Speaking of which, there are occasional lapses that do result in disaster. And sometimes, because everyone is in such close proximity and moving so quickly, these unfortunately lead to pile-ups, literally. As a spectator, all you can do is wince, contribute to the collective “whoa” then applaud with encouragement as the fallen ones attempt to catch up with the rest of the group and re-attach themselves without tripping anyone else in the process. Re-establishing order after catastrophes like these is obviously one of the biggest challenges.
But, by far, the most painful moments for me occurred just after the teams took the ice. They would skate in an interesting and sometimes convoluted manner out to their starting poses and then, to my chagrin, anywhere from 2-4 skaters would turn around and skate back off the ice as if banished from the performance. I logically know that teams need to have a few extra skaters just in case someone gets hurt or sick on game day and I realize that this custom is clearly accounted for in each team’s by-laws, but ouch. It’s not like these skaters are half-citizens or anything, but it broke my heart a little each time to see the alternates all dressed up with nowhere to skate, watching from the sidelines.
What became evident as the competition progressed was that, just because you are granted citizenship to this unique country, it doesn’t mean you will immediately thrive. One team of skaters, comprised of freestylers and pair skaters, immigrated to the highest echelon of Synchroland only in October. Though they enthusiastically tried to learn the language and the laws, they were understandably still struggling. Nonetheless, they provided quite a bit of entertainment (earning a standing ovation for their freeskate) and demonstrated the fact that synchronized skating is definitely not an easy undertaking. Surely, with time and further exposure to the customs, they will gradually get the hang of it.
If you have never experienced the splendors of Synchroland yourself, I highly recommend it. I feel certain that, like me, you will find it to be enjoyable and stimulating. Thank you to all of those who warmly embraced me during my trip. And thanks also to my excellent tour guide/ sherpa/ “pencil sharpener” for making my stay both productive and pleasant.
***
To read the articles I wrote on this topic for icenetwork, visit:
Getting Pumped in Providence: http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080223&content_id=44483&vkey=ice_news
Glamour on Ice at Synchro Championships: http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080223&content_id=44560&vkey=ice_news
There’s a New Team on the Scene: http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080224&content_id=44694&vkey=ice_news
Skating Friend-o-Mine
February 17, 2008
Well, I’m heading to Puerto Rico this week in order to thaw out and catch up with my dear skating friend who now lives there. She also happens to be my “oldest” friend; we’ve known each other for approximately 22 years.
It seems to me that “skating friends” are a breed unto themselves. After all, your school buddies could never really understand your skating craziness: the weird schedule, the numerous absences, or the extra stress (okay, and also fun) in your life created by those demanding little things called goals. Your skating friends…well, they understood both school and skating, and the particular challenge of balancing the two.
And they didn’t have to be your exact same age. Contrary to the sometimes rigid separation between you and people in other school grades, skating connected you with kids both older and younger, and the age-difference didn’t matter. In our case, the difference was (is) two years.
I don’t remember the exact moment when we first met, but it would have been some time during summer skating in Wilmington, Delaware. I do clearly recollect the first time we chummed around outside the rink. My mother drove my brother and I down to Washington D.C. from Delaware one Saturday to visit the National Air and Space Museum and we picked her and her brother up in Maryland on the way. As my mother remembers, my new friend and I didn’t stop chattering for the entire afternoon. And I doubt we were talking about aircraft.
We had a lot in common even beyond just general skating. We both skated pair…with our older brothers. And if this isn’t a powerful bond, I don’t know what is. In the years that we trained alongside each other (and competed against each other), we cried together, sympathized, compared bruises, and fastidiously attended to our fingernails.
Mainly, we laughed. I can easily picture us back then as teenagers, goofing off in locker rooms, while unlacing our skates on what seemed like hundreds of rink benches, and in the stands at Nationals. Most of the occurrences and observations we thought were so hilarious at the time probably wouldn’t translate in the re-telling. Suffice it to say, she is a huge source of my sense of humor.
In fact, she is a huge part of who I am.
In the time since those short but intensive skating years, we’ve lived very far away from each other, yet we’ve been able to stay in close contact. On both our parts, this has taken considerable effort, all of it well worth it.
For example, we visited each other’s freshman dorm rooms, both celebrating the new independence they represented and commiserating in their meagerness. On the day of my college graduation in Philadelphia, she unexpectedly showed up on my front stoop and knocked on the door. When I looked through the peephole, I could not believe my eyes: she’d flown halfway across the country to surprise me and secretly planned the whole thing with my mom! When she got married, I was there alongside her sisters, wearing a hot pink bridesmaid dress. At my 30th birthday party, she was sitting right there at the long table, again having flown in. This time, in her handbag she had a sonogram picture depicting twins, which she shared with me during dinner.
Our daily lives are now very different from each other’s. Of course, a lot has changed and a lot has also stayed exactly the same. I trust that when she picks me up from the airport, it will be like it always is when we reunite: as if no time has passed. And though this tropical setting – the palm trees, the sand, the sound of the ocean combined with the tiny voices of her three adorable kids – is about as far as you can get from our cold, icy origins, we probably would never have met or gotten to that sunny place if weren’t for the activity we shared so intensely, so many years ago.
As I tried to dig out some summer clothes in order to start packing my suitcase, something occurred to me. I never thought of this before, and little did we know it at the time, but the fact that she and I first really got know each other in a museum dedicated to airplanes would end up having quite a bit of meaning.
***
Thank you for reading.
I know you had/have some good skating friends, as well. Please share a memory or two.
***
To read an article called “International Judging System Basics” I wrote this week for icenetwork, click: http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080216&content_id=44011&vkey=ice_news
Rental Skate Riff
February 12, 2008
There are many different parts and pieces to an ice rink. There’s the Zamboni, the ice itself, the receptionists, the skate guards, the janitorial staff, the administrative staff and, of course, the coaches. I’ve thought long and hard about (and written about) the pros and cons of my particular role but I think it’s pretty obvious that there’s one rink job far more difficult and underappreciated than the rest: the job of the Rental Skate.
I’ve been working alongside Rental Skates for years, and I’ll admit it, I’ve never taken much notice. Well, that’s not true. I have noticed them and I’ve laughed. I’ve ridiculed. Okay, the full truth: I have been downright disrespectful, maybe even discriminatory.
One day, a child in my beginner class tugged on my coat sleeve. “Teacher?” she said (I’ve long stopped hoping for them to try and pronounce my name). “Teacher, my skates are broken.” I looked down. Her Rental Skates weren’t actually broken but they were in sorry shape. The buckles were undone, the tongues were wagging, and they were foaming at the mouth. It looked as if they had been run over by a car. “Oh, my,” I said to the little girl, trying to disguise my horror. I am ashamed to write that I did not feel empathy for this feeble footwear…I felt disgust.
“Where is your mother?” I asked. I certainly wasn’t going to bend down and touch them. Besides, performing triage right now would take time away from the other students. “She’s over there.” The little girl pointed her mitten toward the lobby at the other end of the rink, which might as well have been 100 miles away. I told her to wave, which she did, vigorously, but no one made any motions to come over. I considered sending this skater back out to the rental desk alone, but I knew that wasn’t particularly responsible, so I yelled out to the rest of the class, “Okay, try some dips!”
I sighed. I took off my own mittens (the coach version of rolling up the sleeves) and got down on bended knee. I first tried to stuff the plastic tongue back into the left skate without knocking the child over, but it seemed to have lockjaw. So I had her sit down, and I took the skate off her foot in order to deal with it more directly. I didn’t mean to be rough with the skate, but I was in a hurry. Despite being rushed, I did notice that the blue plastic was covered in lacerations. Out of curiosity, I quickly turned the boot over and ran my finger along the blade. It was sharp, yet, not in right direction; the bumpy nicks almost made it seem as if the toe pick extended along the whole length.
I finally got the tongue properly reinserted and had her push her foot back inside. I fiddled with the ski boot-style buckles, explaining while I did so that the skate should really be hugging her ankle and should feel a bit tighter than her sneakers. Then I started to address her other foot, except, wait…something was amiss. This one looked exactly the same and I don’t just mean that it had many similar injuries (which it did), but it was “exactly the same” in that it was also a left skate. Now I stood up and waved my arms wildly toward the lobby as if I were stranded on a highway. Help! S.O.S! Come now! Eventually, a mother stood, gathered up her coat, her toddler, and another kid in a stroller, then started making the trek toward the rink door.
The situation was quickly rectified. We all said “woops!” chuckling, and moved on. But ever since then, I’ve been paying closer attention. What I’ve discovered has changed my perspective and I hope it will change yours, as well. What I’m asking, here, is to consider, really consider the plight of the Rental Skate.
Imagine that, basically, you are a knife for hire. You are worn by people who don’t really know how to correctly use you. Though you exist in the name of fun, you unintentionally harm beginner skaters on a regular basis, and get directly blamed for broken bones, sprains, and an unfathomable number of bruises. Every day, you participate in what are basically demolition derbies. You slam into the boards, you crash into other Rental Skates and every lap includes a number of near-misses that would make professional stunt men close their eyes. This has left you scarred.
But you really weren’t all that handsome to begin with. Maybe you are the tan-ish variety, the same color as paper bags, and striped red at the heel in the same manner as your cousin, the Rental Bowling Shoe. Or you are an elder figure skate, circa 1943, and you are graying and sagging with age. If you are the newest version, you are off-white with black trimmings. You are composed of extra-stiff plastic that is also somewhat shiny, so that you kind of look like a little white Darth Vader. But really, most of you are that weird color of blue plastic, not quite Smurf and not quite Blue Man Group, some indefinable shade in between. However you started out, you’re getting uglier by the session. Unfortunately, “plastic” surgery is not an option, or it’s never been offered, anyway.
Too often, you are forced to work in environments not included in your job description: the metal bleachers, the cement on the other side of the rink, even the parking lot. You are not provided with the protective gear, a.k.a. blade guards, that are always used in the private sector. You have no health insurance and the doctors assigned to your care have very little training. Mainly, you suffer from neglect, your ailments unnoticed or unreported. Instead of getting a bath, you get occasionally sprayed with noxious, aerosol “perfume”. At the end of the day, you are thrown into a heap and haphazardly sorted.
Though everything you do is a team effort, you sometimes get separated from your partner and re-matched with a Rental Skate of a different size or, as highlighted above, with your exact twin. You are basically abused, misunderstood and considered inferior to the other privately-owned skates in the rink. And you’ve seen how well those other white and black skates are treated. They are handled lovingly and gently wiped off. They are regularly taken for check-ups. They don’t hang upside-down on a hook all night, but are tucked into their own individual bags. Some of them even have fuzzy slippers and their own stuffed animals (Stink-eez!) designed to help them smell better.
Imagine that your life is very very long. And that you work for its entirety, with no hope for retirement. You’ve never experienced anything like respect, or appreciation, or even, (until now) sympathy. The worst part is that, thanks to all of the above challenges and hardships, you’re not even very good at what you do.
In fact, the only pride you can take in your job is that you are an effective middleman. After wearing you, many decide to procure their own skates, those other ones. And, wait a second, when you think of it in this light, you, oh, Rental Skate, are truly a hero…you may be regularly dismissed, degraded, and quite smelly, but you are like a bridge, the best kind of bridge, because you lead to something better. It is with you that many dreams begin.
***
While working on this installment, a few people shared some funny Rental Skate stories…
One rink manager told me that people don’t really steal the skates that much anymore but… “We had that problem when we first opened up. There were a few creative ways. The most common was to bring a ratty pair of shoes, give those in exchange for rentals and put on your real shoes from your bag. We had a few weird ones. In one instance, a woman claimed that the rentals were actually hers, stolen from her by one of our employees. Another time, one guy, an adult, asked to buy a specific pair of rentals, as they fit him so well. I explained that I couldn’t do that. Two weeks or so later the skates were gone. I saw them on the guy a month later at public session, painted an awful brown color. You can’t make this stuff up.”
A man whose family has run a skate shop and rental window at another local rink since 1960 told me that when the kids hand over the skates, sometimes he’ll, as a joke, hand back only one shoe in return then go about his business, pretending not to notice. One little kid, who seemed like he was probably only about three years old, looked a his one shoe for a moment and then, with perfect aim, threw it right at this man’s head!
Thanks for reading. I’m sure you have some good stories as well. Please contribute to this Rental Skate Riff by clicking on “comment” below.
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To read my icenetwork interview with the Gilles Family, click:
http://web.icenetwork.com/news/article.jsp?ymd=20080207&content_id=43520&vkey=ice_news
Also notice that I’ve added some Interesting Links, over there, under “Pages” in the right hand column. Enjoy.
2008 Nationals Awards: My Version
February 5, 2008
Well, the figure skaters have left St. Paul. They’ve flown back to their respective hometowns and (unless they’re competing again right away) are hopefully still taking some much-deserved time off. At the Xcel Center, already the cowboys have ridden through for the “World’s Toughest Rodeo” this weekend – apparently the ice surface was simply covered with flooring and lots of dirt. But now that’s already been cleared away as well to get ready for a concert and three Minnesota Wilds hockey games this week.
But the memories of the 2008 National Championships still linger. At least for me, anyway. Lots of journalists are wondering if figure skating is still compelling, now that we have the confusing (and perhaps homogenizing) new judging system and now that we have such tiny jumping beans for champions. I happen to think that, yes, perhaps even because we seem to be in a new era, skating is as compelling and as intriguing as ever…it’s just a matter of who and what you pay attention to.
I, quite frankly, can’t wait to see what’s going to happen in the next couple of years, in the lead-up to the 2010 Vancouver Games. Along the way, surely there will be triumphs, disappointments, scandals (both real and contrived), injuries, retirements, and lots of hard work on the part of skaters, coaches, officials and, media personnel. Hopefully, there will also be some fun.
I had a blast tracking this year’s competition, so much so that I have decided to create my own set of awards. If I could present these in person, they wouldn’t be in the form of trophies, or certificates, or medals. I think, instead, I would give out…snowballs, conveniently constructed from Zamboni shavings. After all, snow, like success, is fleeting and, fortunately so are foibles.
These snowballs could obviously never sit on a shelf. But before they melt away, the recipients could throw them at each other. Or at the media. Or at me.
So without further delay…
MOST ENTERTAINING INTERACTION WITH THE JUDGES:
Winner: Ryan Bradley. For his Short Program set to the music from The Godfather. When the music started, he looked toward the judging table and made a serious yet playful “Capiche?” gesture with his right hand. The audience tittered. Just before his mammoth Triple Axel, he coolly blew the judges a kiss. Throughout the rest of his program, his arm movements were more abstract yet in character, mob-like, somehow. Later, for the Long Program, he channeled Charlie Chaplin, including a cane-twirling penguin strut aimed, again, right at the judges.
MOST DEXTERITY:
Winner: Maia Shibutani. For seamlessly opening and closing a decorative fan while performing to Japanese folk music with her brother, Alex, in the Junior Original Dance. I can imagine that if handed this prop to maneuver while also skating, most of us would probably manage to drop it, even if it were attached to our wrists. And I’m sure that, for me, it would probably get stuck closed, or open, or in my hair, or costume, and, Lucille Ball-style, I’d have to stop and ask the referee to assist with my technical difficulties. But this 13 year-old expertly flourished the fan at all the right moments so that it seemed to be an extension of her arm and nicely accentuated both the music and the choreography.
Runners-Up: Ben Agosto and Tanith Belbin. For passing a hat back and forth in their Hoedown Original Dance set to the music of Cotton-Eyed Joe.
RECIPIENT OF MOST POST-PERFORMANCE KISSES (IN PUBLIC VIEW)
Winner: Rena Inoue. Total kisses received: Six (total does not reflect kisses out of public view). Delivered by partner (and now fiancé), John Baldwin, after Senior Short Program. This included three while still on the ice (1. on hand, 2. on both hands 3. on top of head) and continued in the Kiss and Cry where she received three more, woodpecker-style to the side of her head. After the Long Program, she would go on to receive a mere five Post-Performance Kisses (in Public View,) though one was of extended length and could therefore possibly be counted as two.
MOST SYNCHRONIZED PAIR SPIN:
Winners: Inoue and Baldwin. For their Short Program side by side spin. Four separate positions, all of which matched. Several rotations. Same exact timing. Synchronized exit. No easy feat.
STRANGEST CHOICE OF ADJECTIVE:
Winner: Dick Button. For giddily remarking that there was something “sexual” about Meryl Davis and Charlie White’s Eleanor Rigby Freedance. This performance was many things, including “fantastic,” “intricate,” “powerful” and the list goes on, but it was not particularly sexual. It seemed Dick Button just wanted to use that word.
MOST TALENT UNDER ONE ROOF:
Winner: The Gilles Family of Colorado Springs, Colorado. Todd Gilles, 21, earned 6th place in Senior Dance with new partner Jane Summersett, which renders them 2nd alternates for Worlds and first alternates for Four Continents. Alexe Gilles, 16, won the Gold Medal in Junior Ladies. She is the first alternate for both Four Continents and also Junior Worlds. Piper Gilles, 16, won the Silver Medal in Junior Dance with her partner Tim McKernon. They are first alternates for Junior Worlds. There are also two other kids in this family and a coterie of pets: can you even imagine the schedule over at their house?
INFINITE TWIZZLE:
Winner: Evan Lysacek, Senior Men. At the end of his Short Program circular step sequence. I counted 46 turns but it was very blurred, so it might have been 47. He and the Tazmanian Devil should definitely have a twizzle-off.
BEST DRESS:
Kimberly Navarro, Senior Dance. For the black and white polka-dotted dress she wore for the Yankee Polka with partner Brent Bommentre. I already have a soft spot for NavBom and a predilection for polka-dots…combine the two and this compulsory dance was very much worth watching.
FALL MOST LIKELY TO MAKE THE VIEWERS (AND SKATER) WINCE:
Winner: Michael Villarreal, Senior Men. For the fall on his first Triple Axel in his Long Program. It was one of those falls where every part of his body seemed to slam into the ice. It was kind of a stop, drop, and roll made all the more difficult to witness (and probably experience) due to the fact that he had at least four minutes and several more jump passes to go. He gets substantial extra credit for not only quickly peeling himself up and continuing but for immediately landing a great Triple Lutz, Double Loop, Double Toe. After a fall like that, some of us might still be down one the ice, whimpering.
MOST UNUSUAL FALL:
Winners: Amanda Evora and Mark Ladwig, Senior Pair. For their triple twist in the Long Program. On the landing, she was a bit forward and he missed catching her hips. He managed to somehow keep her from falling, but in the process of trying to get her balance, she looked to be groping in the dark with her arms and knocked his feet out from under him…needless to say, it’s not usually the guy who falls in these situations. I know from experience that four skates and eight limbs in such close proximity can result in some wacky falls, but this was an original. Once again, kudos on the recovery.
WORST SCHEDULING:
Winner: Senior Ladies Long Program, Placements 11-20. The event was broken into to two parts on Saturday, 8:45 AM and 7:50 PM, so those who didn’t place in the top 10 in the Short were banished from prime time. Instead of skating in front of a packed, frenzied crowd during the marquee event, they got the breakfast shift, in fact, the earliest start-time of any event in the competition. These skaters have still achieved so much and no one can take that away from them, but as far as fanfare, as far as buzz, as far as skating in front of a packed house with the cameras rolling and the commentators at-the-ready, just in case, they might as well have been in Junior, or Novice for that matter.
Molly Oberstar is a Minnesota skater who was essentially skating in front of a hometown audience for her first time in Senior Ladies at Nationals. She happened to skate last in the Short Program on Thursday night. She skated clean and the crowd went wild. She got 11th place, just missing the cut-off. Angie Lien, her fellow competitor and club member, (both from Duluth FSC), was competing in her last Nationals. I asked her about this situation. She thought it was “a little silly that the Senior Ladies had to be split up this year because of the TV contract with NBC.” Though she still had a great experience and appreciated “those who got up early to cheer us on”, she of course noticed that the “audience was much smaller than on Saturday night.”
Furthermore…we all know it’s difficult to “jump the warm-up”, in other words, place higher than the warm-up group you’re in for the Long Program (and of course the new system is supposed to make this more possible), but what are the chances of moving up after nine hours have passed? This amount of time makes it seem like two separate events. I realize that 20 Long Programs takes a long time and that the group was this large because there were several byes for international competitions. I appreciate that ice dance shared the limelight on Saturday night. And I realize all of this has a lot to do with TV scheduling, but I think that, for these skaters, it’s demoralizing. An insult.
CRAZIEST COINCIDENCE
Winner: Senior Men, the infamous 244.77 tie between Lysacek and Weir. For those of you who think “something fishy is going on” with the judging of skating, even with this new system, you may be right, but this is not your evidence. Of course the scores were probably inflated and we can debate the validity of them into the next millennium, but it would have taken at least several hours if not days for the Technical Specialists and Judges to get together and rig those scores so that they’d come out exactly the same for the sake of more media attention. That was an instance of pure, freakish happenstance. It was also quite entertaining, especially after all the rivalry hoopla created by (or at least significantly fostered by) NBC.
BIGGEST GRIN:
Winner: Rachael Flatt, Senior Ladies. After finishing a clean Short Program. Grin nicely decorated with tinsel and lip gloss.
Runner up: Rachael Flatt, Senior Ladies. Upon cleanly landing a Triple Flip, Double Toe, Double Loop combo at the end of her Long Program, her seventh and last triple pass. Grin coincided with a wide-eyed look of pure joy.
Second Runner up: Rachael Flatt, Senior Ladies. Upon receiving her scores for both programs. Grins accompanied by endearing giggles.
And they’re saying it isn’t fun to watch such young girls win. Granted, it may not be as “sexual” to borrow Dick Button’s word, but, after all, aren’t babies used all the time as marketing tools? Cute sells! In fact, one of the best Superbowl commercials this Sunday featured an infant buying stocks at his computer. My only concern is that if we get to the point where our champions are so young that they’re still breastfeeding, is that going to be considered an unfair advantage? Better revise the controlled substance list, soon
