Glossary of Skating Falls
March 25, 2008
Most humans learn how to walk by instinct sometime around the age of one. During this toddling stage they fall down regularly, slapping forward onto their little paws with their hindquarters in the air, or adorably plopping backwards onto their diapers. Of course, they don’t have far to fall and their competency with this new walking trick improves at an astonishing rate (especially in the case of my genius nephew). Aside from an occasionally slippery sidewalk, an ill-placed banana peel, or a few too many vodka tonics, once people get the hang of walking, they don’t fall down much.
Unless, of course they take up ice skating…in which case, falling becomes an occurrence almost as regular as blinking.
As skaters, we’ve fallen in just about every way imaginable. Backwards, forwards, sideways, and (sometimes, unfortunately) upside down. We fall so often that we get used to it. It’s often said that we “learn” how to fall, in other words how to fall in ways that are less jolting and therefore less damaging and, to an extent, this is true. That said, there are still the falls that take us utterly by surprise and are so strange they could never possibly be replicated. There are falls that make us wince, take our breath away, produce tears. And let us not forget the falls that make us laugh hysterically.
Everything else in our sport has a name, so in hopes of contributing to this clarity, I’ve decided to categorize some of the more common varieties of falls.
The Splat: In this fall, usually best performed from forward skating, you hit the ice like pancake batter hits the griddle. In the more sophisticated version, there is an involuntary flip at the end. Afterwards, it’s difficult to identify a body part that did not make contact with the ice.
The Sidesaddle: This fall is the one most highly recommended for adults and simply involves sliding off to one side or the other with grace and dignity. The affected hip and wrist will never be the same, but at least you’ll still have your teeth.
The Bellyflop: This is one of the more exciting falls, often associated with the entrance to a Camel Spin. If the skater has temporarily forgotten that she is at the rink and not the swimming pool, this will surely remind her. Likewise, it helps to demonstrate the important scientific concept that frozen water is far more solid than warmer versions. This fall is rendered even more breathtaking because it literally takes your breath, outsources it to a foreign place that may or may not need it more, in the meantime causing you to wonder if your lungs (and economy) have collapsed.
The Timber: This fall usually occurs from a backward entrance. The body falls to the ice stiff and perfectly straight, like a tree that has been chopped down. Afterwards, you’ll scan the rink for lumberjacks to blame it on, but all you’ll see are little girls dropping like leaves around you.
The Geyser: This fall is unique in the way it first shoots you up in the air, causing you to momentarily defy gravity before you plummet back down. In order to get your money’s worth, stick around for the exciting grand finale, which is usually a full-bodied whiplash.
The Jackhammer: In this vertical fall, your tailbone makes first contact with the ice with a velocity and force that shakes the entire building and causes the other skaters to cover their ears as they pass. Your spinal chord will continue to vibrate for days and the rink manager will wonder how such a large crater blemished his beloved sheet of ice. After examining the ceiling, he’ll rule out a meteor; but your absence for several weeks will make him suspicious.
The Pretzel: Many physicists have tried, but it is impossible to explain how skaters accomplish this complicated fall and likewise detangle from it. This human knot is twice as common and complex for pair and dance teams.
The Headbanger: This is a multimedia experience in that it’s accompanied by a very distinct sound effect. It’s a particular thud that can only be produced when a noggin knocks into the ice. The aftermath is also multifaceted: a welt of impressive dimensions immediately sprouts and birdies chirp while flying in dizzying patterns around your head.
The Slide: This is the fall that reminds you just how slippery the ice is. The biggest challenge here is steering yourself away from other skaters. In other words, you want to avoid impersonating a bowling ball hitting a strike’s worth of pins. If the rink is particularly wet that day, you may create an equally dangerous tsunami and experience an uncomfortably moist sensation in the seat of your tights (or pants) for the rest of the session. While this fall happens quite often on the ice, it happens even more often in nightmares. Usually (if you’re me), you eventually slam into the barriers and wake up with a jolt, certain you’re having a heart attack.
The Chin Splitter: This is arguably the most colorful fall and occurs most often as the result of bunny hopping or spiraling right over the toe picks. The good news is that there is something called butterfly bandages and their wings are very skilled at holding skin together. The even better news is that this is a skating rite of passage: as soon as you are initiated it doesn’t matter what your competitive successes or failures are, you are now part of the “in” skating crowd. Go ahead, look, everyone else has this scar of honor.
The Surprise: This fall is not your fault. There is absolutely nothing you can do to prevent it and no way to see it coming. The ice quietly sneaks up on you, swiftly grabs you from below, and pulls you down. All of this transpires in a blurry nanosecond, so witnesses who were looking exactly in your direction will claim, quite honestly, that they didn’t see anything.
The Slo-Mo: This is the exact opposite of the previous fall. This one seems to take forever and you’ll see it coming from miles away. You’ll try to flap your arms in an attempt to fly out of the situation, but this will only put you more off balance. In the meantime, your life will flash before your eyes. You’ll have time to wish you’d done all those good things like taken better care of your childhood goldfish… tape-recorded your grandmother’s voice… spent more time laughing and less time working. Mostly, you’ll wish that you’d invested in a set of those hideous-looking butt pads.
***
What did I miss?
And here is a link to some very good pads of the more inconspicuous variety….http://skatingsafe.com/allproducts.html
And, yikes, here is a link to some very nasty skating falls caught on tape. But don’t watch these if you are prone to nightmares…http://www.bootandblade.com/news/2008/04/06/eight-of-the-worst-falls-in-figure-skating
Ice Dance: Crisis or Opportunity?
March 18, 2008
It has recently come to my attention that the ISU is considering downsizing Ice Dance from three events – Compulsories, Original Dance, Freedance – to two in order to make it commensurate with Singles and Pairs. This is a way to cut costs at competitions and it does make logical sense.
The problem is that most arrows point toward the eradication of Compulsory Dance at ISU competitions.
This would be catastrophic for Ice Dance and for the entire sport. As we saw with figures, their elimination from competition has resulted in extinction. If the ISU makes this decision when they discuss this topic this week at the World Championships, compulsory dances will be in similar jeopardy.
Taking compulsories out of the competitive “arena” will have serious, far-reaching and immediate ramifications. I write from the perspective of a dedicated ice dance coach who, in addition to teaching other aspects of skating, enjoys teaching compulsory ice dances and who has had anywhere from 10-15 students testing compulsory ice dances every three months for the last eight or so years. In that time, I have had a handful of ice dance teams in the competitive ranks.
I think it’s obvious that a new era of ice dance has dawned (here in the U.S., anyway). We have more ice dancers placing well in both Junior and Senior Events around the world than ever before. At Nationals this year, there were more spectators in the stands for ice dance. In fact, Senior Dance was a Saturday night, primetime event, sharing top billing with Senior Ladies. If handled correctly, this proposed downsizing could actually result in changes that would further popularize ice dance and benefit the entire sport. Eliminating compulsories all together is not the answer.
First, it’s necessary to ask the question: What is the most important factor in the continuation of this particular activity? What, in other words, does skating need in order to thrive? The answer is simple: Participation. The more kids who try skating and continue with it, the higher the level of competition, which leads to higher entertainment value, which leads to higher TV ratings and, finally to higher revenue for governing bodies. And the more exposure there is, the more skaters who are inspired to give it a try. It’s a chicken and egg situation: the ever-important bottom line is driven from both the grass roots (i.e. every local rink in the world) and from the top down (i.e. how compelling competitive skating and its stars seem.)
But in order for a large number of skaters to continue in a sport where the body type necessary to perform triple jumps (at least for girls/women) is becoming more and more specific, namely small, it’s necessary for there to be Options. This is why I am a proponent of both Ice Dance and Synchronized Skating, because a larger number of athletes and body types have the opportunity to participate and excel throughout their teenage years.
If I had never been introduced to the Dutch Waltz and then taken that test as an 8 year-old, it’s unlikely that I would ever had found my way to competitive ice dance in the first place, as a Preliminary then Novice dance team with my older brother. It is equally unlikely that I would have returned to competitive ice dance at the Junior level once it was clear that I was too tall for pair skating. It is probable that I would have quit skating at the age of 16 all together, quite possible that I would not have been drawn to coaching, and would therefore not be in the position to encourage more skaters to get interested in the sport and continue with it. And I was one of the fortunate few who had a built-in partner. It seems even less likely that skaters without partners (who might join up with partners in the future) would get involved with ice dance were it not for compulsory ice dance tests.
One of the best parts about Figure Skating in the United States is this highly organized merit-based testing system. I can say that, as a former skater and as a coach, this series of achievable goals helps considerably to get skaters motivated and educated…in other words, hooked. No matter what skaters and their families have seen on television, it is the testing process that lends structure to those burgeoning dreams. Skating is complex and the skill set is cumulative: this is perfectly demonstrated through testing.
In no other aspect of the sport is the testing process more effective, more-specifically focused, more rigorous and, in the end, more prestigious than in Ice Dance. The standards are high and obtaining a gold medal is extremely challenging. Many single skaters in my fleet, several of whom earn their gold medals in Moves in the Field and Freestyle, have taken up dance in order to improve their basic skating. These skaters will attest to the fact that mastering the requirements of silver, pre-gold, and gold ice dance tests is a serious undertaking indeed, requiring a great deal of practice and dedication.
This is not a matter of comparing Ice Dance tests to Moves in the Field or Freestyle tests, because I think they all have merit. It’s a matter of identifying what differentiates Ice Dance from Singles and Pairs and how the compulsory dances contribute to that. These dances promote posture, edgework, power, neat footwork, extension, rhythm, performance, timing, and dance ability, the translation of music into movement, in both subtle and overt ways through knee action, facial expression, and body movements. The fact that these patterns have a specific layout on the ice and that they are accompanied by music is critical.
Not only are the fundamentals of compulsory ice dances vital to performing accomplished, edge-filled and danced Freedances, but these skills are also becoming more and more essential to single skaters for step sequences, for overall transitional skating, and therefore for earning points in both their technical and component scores.
The same can be said for Pair Skating and echoed for Synchronized Skating. In fact, more and more, coaches of Synchronized teams are highly recommending and even requiring ice dance tests as a way to improve the ability of their team members and intricacy of their programs thereby increasing the competitive and entertainment value of this discipline. I dare say that, more than ever before, all parts of skating are recognizing and capitalizing on the specific skills of ice dance. And compulsory dances are the heart of this. If the ISU takes away compulsories, it will be harmful to the entire sport.
This is why I support the idea of combining the Original Dance and Compulsory Dance together as one event, literally combining them into one program. This is one of the innovative proposals of coach Bob Mock, Member of the National Ice Dance Committee. As he has recently pointed out, the Original Dance in its current form is really just another Freedance, and many teams use the same step sequences, lifts, and spins in both programs. But if teams were required to include one or two patterns of an already-existing compulsory dance into their choreography, this would have several happy consequences.
First of all, it would secure the testing process. In addition to all of the above arguments for this, it would foster the continuation of dance test sessions, which earn money for skating clubs. Second, if compulsory ice dances are couched amid original choreography, they will receive more exposure. Aspiring ice dancers would still have the opportunity to see their heroes performing recognizable patterns that they, too, have learned or will learn in the future.
Keep in mind that Single Skaters and Pair skaters attempt many of the same elements as one another such as Double Axels and Split Twists. In Freedances and Original Dances, due to the high level of innovation, there is less that is standardized and therefore recognizable. Keeping compulsory dances in the competitive realm maintains an essential sense of continuity between the lower and higher levels. (This, by the way, is the primary argument against those who would contend that compulsory dances could effectively remain in the background just like Moves in the Field. Beginner ice dancers need to be able to see some connection between what they are doing and what the dance stars are doing and this needs to happen in a public forum, in case they do not have high level dancers in their rink.)
Furthermore, combining the two events in this manner would more firmly attach ice dance to its roots in ballroom dance: Foxtrots, Polkas, Waltzes, Sambas, Tangos, etc. In fact, the name of this combined event could be changed to something like Ballroom Dance, closely associating it with something that is extremely popular and experiencing a resurgence in our culture. Notice the popularity of the television show, Dancing with the Stars. Note also the increased tendency of couples to take ballroom lessons leading up to their weddings in order to smoothly perform that celebrated “first dance.” The term Ballroom Dance would also nicely differentiate it from the Freedance, which refers to a greater freedom as far as musical and stylistic choices. Alternatively, Bob Mock suggests that it could be called Creative Compulsory Original Dance (CCOD).
Finally, it would be beneficial to offer more modern and appealing music for this new combined event. Perhaps the ISU could provide 3-5 songs with the appropriate rhythm for whatever dance is assigned for that competitive season and couples can choose from one of these. Or couples could obtain their own music as long as it has the number of beats per minute that correspond with compulsory requirements.
Incidentally, over the years, I have had many skaters who have begged to work on their ice dances in their lessons or to learn the next ice dance. I repeat: I have students who beg to work on their compulsory ice dances. When time permits, and we spice them up ever so slightly with an arm movement or a bit of introductory or ending choreography, they are thrilled. Likewise, I would be remiss to not mention the large population of adult ice dancers who attend dance weekends, skate on social dance sessions, and who comprise a huge portion of the ice dance fan base. It would be a shame to lose this entire opportunity for figure skating enthusiasm.
This potential downsizing is valid. The eradication of compulsory dances is not. Combining Compulsory Dance with Original Dance is the most logical solution. Think of it as The New Adventures of the Old Compulsory Dance: it brings compulsories more into the spotlight and lends a more standardized and recognizable aspect to original choreography. It is a win-win concept and one that I hope will be given serious consideration.
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If you are similarly concerned about this situation, whether you are a coach, a skater, a parent, or a fan, please pass this link onto others and lend your voice by leaving a comment below. Other ideas and suggestions are encouraged. The ISU is tackling this issue THIS WEEK so now is the time for members of the American skating community to be heard.
Update, April 1, 2008: For those of you wondering how ”The Fate of Compulsory Dance” discussions went at Worlds, it sounds like the ISU is going to very likely downsize the dance to two events BUT so far, they have approved the idea of combining the Compulsory Dance and Original Dance into one. This has to go through a few more rounds of approval within the ISU, but tentatively, it is good news. Thanks to everyone who has written comments on this site on this topic.
Wollman Rink, Part 2
March 11, 2008
I recently had the audacity (or good sense, take your pick) to compare Wollman Rink in Central Park to a slice of pizza, thereby further validating my theory that all roads lead back to New York’s favorite food-on-the-go. But, truthfully, when I have the opportunity to skate at Wollman these days, I am reminded of more than just dinner.
I have had the honor of sharing the majority of my Wollman experience with ice dance team, Isabel Elliman and Dmitriy Serebrenik, pictured above, who started and finished their seven-year competitive career together at this rink. To my knowledge, they are the only national competitors in recent history to train mostly outdoors. This is impressive for several reasons, and from a coaching perspective, it is unique indeed.
For one thing, Isabel and Dmitriy skated before school, which meant that their training days commenced before dawn, at 5:30 AM, and therefore literally in the dark. Because I was afraid to trek into the park at this eerie hour on the mornings when I coached them to fill in for my brother, I would meet Isabel and her father beforehand so I could tag along with them. Rarely, in our 5-10 minute walk would we see anyone, let alone anyone threatening, but while we were chatting I was alert nonetheless, certain that we were going to get pounced upon by bears, or bandits, or the boogeyman himself.
Once safely delivered to the rink’s lobby, Isabel’s father wished us well then turned around back toward home where Isabel’s younger siblings would soon be starting their own days. Dmitriy was already in the lobby, stretching out his legs. He had gotten up at some ungodly hour, something like 3:45 AM in order to ride the subway in from Brooklyn.
Once they were on the ice and were starting to warm up, and I glided around willy-nilly, assessing their knee bend, their posture, and commented accordingly. But I couldn’t help also taking in the scene.
There is something cozy about the fact that the Wollman ice surface is situated slightly lower than the grounds around it, kind of like a sunken living room. On one side sits the rink lobby, the roof of which serves as a public platform, so that, during more humane hours, passersby can watch from above. The embankments on the other two sides of the rink are lush with landscaping. When it’s dark, the trees and shrubbery along the barriers are lit from below, which creates a sort of mood-lighting, the equivalent, almost, of candlelight.
There are also the buildings of Midtown Manhattan just beyond the trees – The Plaza Hotel, The Trump Building, the Time Warner Building – all of which contributed to my sense of being surrounded and practically “hugged” by the city. Before 6 AM, these buildings had only a smattering of lights on in their grid of windows, a ratio that changed as morning progressed.
But for that first half hour or so, before morning broke, it seemed that the three of us were the only souls awake, and, in fact, maybe the only people in the universe. It was the good type of solitude, not lonely but peaceful, the kind you wish could last.
It was also extremely productive, however fleeting. I especially appreciated the chance to use the setting as a coaching tool. In my quest to get skaters to “project” to the audience (real or imagined) I often ask them why they would want to stare down at the ice when there are so many other interesting things to look at. The problem is that, in most other rinks, I have to sound excited and flourish my arm Vanna White-style toward a scenery that includes, for example… “The Home sign!…the Away sign!…those beautiful red lockers!…and how about that large beam!…and just look at those fascinating copper pipes!…” At Wollman, I could make this argument far less facetiously and pick out spotting points that really were of interest. For example, on the first side of the Golden Waltz, I could call out the words “Pierre Hotel!” and they’d both gaze up and out in its direction. Once indoors, at a competition, I’d say the same two words and get the same result, with a chuckle.
What was even more pronounced than the visuals of that majestic setting at that hour were the sounds, or lack thereof. No horns yet honking. No brakes yet screeching. No cabbies yelling. No cell phones ringing. No trucks yet delivering ingredients to the pizza shops on every block. And relative to an indoor rink: no dehumidifiers blowing, no fluorescent lights a-buzzing, no motors churning. Just stillness, over-layed with the sacred sound of edges. That crunch, that bite, that rip we’re always talking about and aiming for.
This sound alone was enough to make me a purist. It was admittedly difficult and rare for me, as a competitive skater, to experience that simple satisfaction of skate against ice. I experienced it as a coach, several times, through the blades of these two skaters on those mornings.
Of course, from a training perspective, it wasn’t always nirvana. All skaters deal with a set of struggles and ever-changing variables: muscle cramps, blisters, cold, fatigue, the pressure of homework, growth spurts, inadequate equipment, crowded sessions, and the list goes on. For Isabel and Dmitriy, one of the most constant challenges was The Weather.
In fact, the first day they ever skated together, it was pouring rain. They skated through three inches of water. But they, like many skaters at Wollman, had a postal service mentality: they’d skate through rain, sleet, or snow (within reason, of course.) Sometimes, it was a matter of peering through the lobby windows, wondering if the conditions were going to improve or if we should just unlace and finish the lesson on the floor. Or it was a matter of taking breaks every 30 minutes in order to warm up, or to dry off in the shelter of the lobby. Sometimes, while watching them do a Freedance run-through, I’d brace myself against gusts of wind, get hit in the face with a leaf, and wonder how they were staying on their feet. It was an unusual sensation to see snow accumulating on my students as I was talking to them.
Of course, this made them, like most New Yorkers, very adaptable. At competitions, for example, they could roll with almost anything. Is the ice soft, hard, bumpy, filled with ruts? At least its not covered in leaves! Is the rink large, small, or shaped like a rectangle instead of a slice of pizza? They’d quickly acclimate. Is the rink freezing cold? Seemed like a sauna to them. I started to think you could throw almost anything their way – turn off the lights, turn on a wind machine, scatter pebbles on the ice – and they’d be unfazed. As a matter of fact, they’d probably manage to enjoy it.
And this leads me to the most lasting impression I have of their partnership: that their mutual desire to skate came very obviously from within. After all, nobody would wake up that early to skate through the elements all winter, then travel over hill and vale to find clear freestyle ice to train on in the summer months, then push through the usual setbacks such as injuries and disappointments…nobody does all this, and so good-naturedly, unless they really love it. As a coach, dedication of this magnitude is something special to witness and to participate in. I consider myself fortunate, along with my brother, to have shared in such a unique partnership, fostered in no small part, by the unique setting.
Those mornings at Wollman would start off in darkness, but, on the clearest days, the atmosphere would gradually shift through gray to an icy blue, until the sun rose pink onto the buildings, accompanied by the sounds of the city. Next would come a burst of orange, shards of yellow, and an almost blinding white. Through all these shades of sunrise, Isabel and Dmitriy practiced a progression of Compulsory Dances, Original Dances, and Freedances – Intermediate level, then eventually Senior – before rushing off to school. While they enjoyed many triumphant moments at rinks around the country, and their lives will lead them to many distant corners of the world, I have little doubt they’ll always carry around with them that particular slice of ice.
The last time Isabel and Dmitriy performed together at Wollman, in January of last year for an exhibition, it started to rain. This couldn’t have been more appropriate. This time, it was dusk. While the audience pulled their hoods over their foreheads and reached for their umbrellas, Isabel and Dmitriy were characteristically undeterred. They not only skated, but they smiled and performed their way through the drizzle, even as it gradually started to soak their costumes and their hair. As I was forced to do many times in their presence, I struggled to hold back tears of pride and admiration.
While Isabel and Dmitriy took their bow for friends, family, and fans, a surreal mist rose off the ice all around them. Or, if you subscribe to the pizza theory, you could say it was steam.
***
Thank you for reading.
Wollman Rink, Part 1
March 4, 2008
There are many different types of people on this planet and many ways of viewing the world around us. There are liberals, conservatives, Buddhists, Darwinists, etc. Most people try to make sense of the larger picture by looking at life through a particular lens, say, for example, through feminism, or environmentalism, or even, in many cases, consumerism.
Then there are a select few of us who have an exceptionally sophisticated worldview. People like us have a highly evolved philosophy that can be used to explain just about anything. We believe that pretty much everything in life comes back to one important thing. And that, of course, is…pizza.
Pizza is everywhere and its attributes are infinite. For example, here in New York City, there is at least one pizza shop on every block where people of all kinds can come together peacefully and pay their respects almost 24 hours a day. It is impressive how, when ordered correctly, one simple slice represents all four food groups. Notice how pizza transports seamlessly from hand to mouth without any need for those complicating factors called utensils. It also travels around town easily in those nifty flat boxes. And the way the dough so gracefully changes shape when repeatedly tossed into the air is pure, edible poetry.
I’ve known all these facts for years, but lately, I have been reminded that all roads lead back to this savory treat. For example, just this weekend, at a wine tasting, a friend described one mediocre but inoffensive selection as a good “pizza wine,” a term I’d never heard before, despite my “extensive” tours of vineyards. Recently, on this very website (see Boots and Blades, Part 2), figure skating boot specialist Mark Magliola underscored the challenge of fitting skaters with narrow heels and wider toes, which, to the delight of many, he referred to as “pizza feet.” And last, but certainly not least since it brings me to the topic at hand, I taught at Wollman Rink last Friday, an ice surface shaped exactly like…you got it, a slice of pizza.
Some try to contend that Wollman Rink, located in the southeastern part of Central Park, is shaped like a triangle, but I know better. It was designed and constructed in about 1950 with funds donated by Kate Wollman. It’s fairly evident what her favorite food was.
This shape makes such perfect sense, seeing as how New York is the pizza capitol of the world. Sorry Chicago. And I mean no disrespect, Sicily. The way I see it, this slice-y slab is the pulsing, extra-large heart of this pizza-loving city.
What is it like to skate on a rink configured like a slice of pizza? It can be anywhere from disorienting to liberating, depending on your ability to think, or skate, I should say, outside the box. Literally.
If you’re trying to do a program, a moves-in-the-field pattern, or an ice dance, it might end up being a little more “interpretive” (insert: bulbous, lopsided, or straight-out wacky) than usual. If you are determined to obey The Rulebook, you have to immediately stop using the barriers as reference points. You have to imagine a rectangle then hem yourself in. You have to guestimate. This could be a challenge for those skaters who, for example, have trouble finding their way across a rink without hockey lines as landmarks (and I include myself in that category.)
But, skating at Wollman is an adventure for many reasons even beyond its unique shape, including the weather, the location, the immediate surroundings, and did I mention the weather? I have visited this rink intermittently over the last few years as a substitute teacher for my brother, and, every time, I go through the same spectrum of emotions, starting with dread, only because I loathe early mornings, and ending with elation, because it is just such a cool atmosphere.
Last Friday, it was 16 degrees out when I entered the park at the 5th Avenue and 60th street around 6:30 AM. I had of course cloaked myself in a ridiculous number of layers, an amount of clothing that caused me to waddle across a stretch of cobblestones rather than walk. It’s a circuitous route you take through the park toward the rink from this entrance, a winding path I could only explain as heading generally in a northwest direction.
The fact that I hadn’t yet opened my eyes made my trip further challenging. As I crossed over East Drive, one of the streets the horse-drawn carriages use to trot tourists around the park, I was met with the smell of manure. I opened my eyes slightly so as to not step in anything unpleasant, then waddled down some stairs, and eventually heard music in the distance. I tried to lift my heavy eyelids a little more, accepting that I was getting closer, and would soon be expected to behave like a professional, an act that usually involves being awake.
I have discovered that all skating music, no matter the song, actually sounds like circus music when heard from afar, outside. As you approach, you almost think that you are nearing Central Park’s famous carousel, but that’s located beyond Wollman, a little further west. Gradually, the music clarified itself and I forced myself to open my eyes all the way.
That’s when I saw it, from above, through a line of trees: a gleaming slice of ice. I stopped in my tracks to take it in. The sun was ricocheting off the surface, causing it to actually glow. Bundled-up children and adults were already gliding around out there, in patterns of their own choosing. In this moment, just how, when you open the lid of a pizza box to a piping hot pie smothered with the perfect amounts of cheese and sauce and fresh basil, the angels began to sing. Chuckling, I waddled the rest of the way toward work.
To be continued, next week.
***
Needless to say, I highly recommend that you visit Wollman Rink. If you live nearby and you’ve never been, you should go immediately. If you live far away, you should make a weekend of it, and combine it with a pizza tour.
If you are aware of any rinks of unusual shape (A donut? A pear? A candy cane?), or rinks that are unique for any other reason, please enlighten the rest of us by clicking on “comment.”
To read Wollman Rink, Part 2, Click here.
To see Wollman in all its glory, click on “Central Park” at the following site: Click here.
