The Lord of the Olympic Rings

c. 2002 by L. Parker-Cheeseman

Four years ago this very month, on a similar cold winter's night, I was settling down in front of my TV to peer into the goings-on in Nagano, Japan. I wanted to observe what the world had to offer in the form of talented young figure skaters. Actually, lol, that's not entirely true. I had every intention of focusing my eyeballs on one Ilia Kulik, Russian skating sensation and eye candy extraordinaire. Having seen Ilia several times before, most notably at NHK Trophy, I kind of knew what all the fuss was about beforehand (concerning his talent AND his eye candy status), and I thought I'd join in the chorus of thousands screaming Go Ilia! collectively the world over as he prepared to snatch the 1998 Olympic gold medal away from anyone who dared challenge him. For what was not to like about this guy? Tall, blond, rosy-cheeked, with a marquee-worthy kisser. And besides all that, he could really skate. :o) Even if his costume was slightly on the avant-garde side (recall the famous yellow and black-spotted Shirt, the pattern of which reminded one of what would happen if a New York taxi ran over a stray cow from the Jersey 'burbs).

All the commentators...Scott Hamilton and Dick Button included...theorized that Ilia was a shoo-in for the gold. True, he would get some tough competition from the likes of Stojko and Eldredge, but...other than these two there wasn't really anyone worthy enough to challenge him. These musings did not upset me, for I wanted Ilia to win. I liked him; I thought he was the most graceful and fluid skater I'd seen in a long time. He could leap into the air like a gazelle, I considered him the pinnacle of The Triumvirate (Kulik-Stojko-Eldredge) and I was just ready to cheer him on like I would cheer on the winning thoroughbred at Dover Downs. Everybody loves a winner. Right?

I kinda wasn't counting on a curveball being thrown at me. A curveball in the form of a 17-year-old kid from St. Petersburg, Russia, named Alexei.

Alexei Yagudin wasn't even being counted as a major ballplayer in the 1998 games by Those Who Mattered. He was just...an entry because Russia had another spot, and ok, because maybe he was the 1997 Worlds Bronze medalist. And didn't I remember that competition! Particularly his Exhibition to "native African music" that was in time nicknamed "One Banana" because of the banana sticking out the top of the waistband of his tights. I will comment no further about that particular prop. :o) A shortish, slightly stocky young man he was, or at least he appeared to be next to the likes of the thin and statuesque Kulik. But what he lacked in fluidic movement, he made up for with power and strength.

This kid had legs like truck pistons! They catapulted him into the air like he had been shot from a cannon, and his strength held him suspended in space while his body spun completely around four times, before landing neatly back down on the ice with a commanding thud...yes, that same thud that has now become has trademark. Hearing this thud through a TV broadcast is proof enough of the authority that lay behind it, but witnessing it 2 feet away while standing next to the Plexiglas of an otherwise empty ice rink is quite another matter. There it is not merely thud. It is THUDDDD!!! But that's another story. :o)

After the short programs at Nagano, I was thoroughly perplexed. Kulik had skated well, with his usual grace and flair. But this young upstart, this Alexei...he had also skated well. Very well. He also had a little extra something that I couldn't quite identify until later. Passion. That heartfelt passion and drama that separated mediocre performances from truly stellar performances. Even Alexei's SP costume of black, red and gold portrayed high drama. How did I not notice this passion before in him? I always thought he had the makings of a good skater, but somehow I had missed that fire in his eye. This time it did not slip by me.

Of course, Kulik won the short program. He was favored to win, and unless he splatted on every jump, the night was going to be his. But in my mind...hmmm...I think Alexei had a slight edge on him. Too bad the judges didn't see it that way. But...!!! The long programs were still to come. I felt a growing certainty in my bones that if Alexei gave it his best, he'd push Kulik right off the top podium and claim it for himself.

Fate had a different plan, unfortunately. The night of the LP arrived, and Alexei was sick as ten dogs with the flu and a high fever, with a later diagnosis of pneumonia...the result of going to watch the ladies skate with a still-wet-from-the-shower-head or so it was much ballyhooed. If anyone knows 6th grade biology, however, you know that being cold does not give you a cold. Or the flu. Or measles. Or whatever. Coming into contact with germs gives you those nasty things, not a wet head. Anyway...it doesn't matter how he got sick, just that he WAS. Face flushed, eyes glazed, he took the ice for his LP...and despite a valiant effort and a magnificent triple axel which to this day I do not know how he completed in his weakened condition...he could not hold the program together. In the kiss-n-cry, as he heaved for breath looking damn near like he would pass out in front an international audience numbering in the millions, his then-coach Alexei Mishin waved disgustedly at him as if he were a bothersome gnat and promptly left him sitting there alone as his scores came up. Alexei watched him go in disbelief and what looked to me as nothing short of abject misery. After all was said and done, Alexei finished in 5th place.

That was then. This is now.

It's 2002 and four years have passed since Alexei's Nagano frustration. During that time he has proved his mettle (medal? Freudian slip? :o) time and again, albeit not without some personal and professional struggles along the way. A coach change (thankfully) happened by June 1998, and with it came some serious growth, creativity, and mutual understanding and affection between coach and pupil. Under Tatiana Tarasova's skill, Alexei metamorphosed into the skater he was always meant to be...strong and elegant, attractive and athletic, passionate and striking.

Of course during these last four years, Mr. Mishin's other star pupil, Evgeny Plushenko, had been honing and refining his abilities as well. He ultimately became a serious challenger for Alexei, beating him in several important competitions, most notably Europeans and Worlds 2001. But while Evgeny certainly had technical talent and a nearly unfailable quad combo, he could not exude that passion that came so natural for Alexei. LOL, not to mention his costume choices. While Alexei became noted for his drama, Evgeny became infamous for his bizarre costumes that ran the gamut from Biker Dude Look to Chippendale. But no question about it, Evgeny's technical prowess seriously threatened Alexei's Olympic chances for 2002. You can't win a gold medal for presentation alone, or for technical genius alone. It's got to be a precise combination of the two. Evgeny needed more presentation skills, and Alexei needed more reliable technical skills. Like their predecessors Brian Boitano and Brian Orser who went head to head in 1988, it was going to come down to a Clash of the Two Russian Titans.

But who would've thought that the unthinkable could happen...Evgeny, during the first few seconds of his short program on February 12th, took a hard fall on his quad combo attempt. All season he had been nearly technically perfect, and now when it mattered the most, he faltered. But then, Evgeny sort of has a history of melting down at the most important times, most likely due to nerves and the stoney-faced Mr. Mishin glaring angrily at him from the boards. When Evgeny fell on February 12th, there went his gold medal chances. It is said that you can't win a gold medal with a short program, but you sure can lose one. Alexei would have to break both legs now for Evgeny to see that gold.

Happily, that didn't come to pass. Alexei took the ice on February 14th, ironically Valentine's Day, and skated a passionate and error-free program to music from The Man in the Iron Mask. Evgeny had given his all for his free program, set to music from Carmen, and although it was technically good, it was in no way enough to overtake Alexei. At the end of his free program, the very last skater of the evening to skate, Alexei knew he had done it. He had won that gold medal that had eluded him so heartlessly four years ago. He exulted, tears springing to his eyes, and knelt to kiss the ice in tribute. Sitting in the Kiss-n-Cry, aptly named since the tears were now freely running down his cheeks, Alexei awaited his scores but there was really no need. The ball game was over and Alexei had hit the ball out of the park in the 9th inning with the bases loaded. The usual 5.9's for technical marks he received, but what was astonishing (or maybe not) were the four 6.0's he received for presentation. Perfection. A first in Olympic skating history. Unlike the unfortunate pairs competition where the judging was seriously flawed (and subsequently corrected, I'm happy to learn), Alexei had earned this gold medal. There was no question about it in the eyes of anyone with half a brain cell, and the world reveled in delight for this Russian-native-turned-adopted-American-son.

A joyous Alexei stood on the top podium in the Delta Center, exactly where I predicted he would stand many a time, and received his gold medal and flowers. In contrast, a rigid and morose Evgeny stood one level below him, and halfheartedly lifted his silver medal to show the crowd. I could not help but feel bad for him. He had to have been thinking about that fall in the short program, and how if it had not happened, his medal perhaps would've been a different color. Perhaps, but not likely. I like Evgeny...his technical skills are (usually) unparalleled. He's a showman and knows how to work the crowd to his advantage. But it's still far he must go to find his own niche in the Presentation department. For me, he has yet to show the passion and emotion that Alexei so effortlessly embodies. In time, this will come for him. Hopefully. Perhaps if he drops the bizarre Mishin-inspired costumes and pelvic grinds, and comes up with an elegant, fiery program that will showcase his technical prowess and still allow him to emote. Intensity has always lurked in Evgeny, intensity that could make his eyes blaze and his soul open on the ice. He just needs the freedom to let it happen. This Olympics was not Evgeny's time, not yet. 2006? Could very well be. If he does the right thing.

Now the Olympics are over for these guys on blades. The decisions have been made, medals awarded, tears shed, one Russian heart swelling with pride, another stoically breaking with opportunities gone. And of course, there was Timothy Goebel...America's Pride...the "Quad King"...who stood on the lowest level of the podium almost exploding with happiness, seemingly oblivious to the battle won and lost just to the right of his elbow. He had medalled, and on his own home ice, too. That's all that mattered. I was glad for him.

So Alexei now has his Olympic gold to hang on his wall, probably front and center amidst the myriad of many other medals he has earned during his career. His next step is unknown as of this writing. Will he continue as a competitive skater or go the route of most gold medallists and turn professional? The four years between Nagano and Salt Lake City were long and arduous ones for him, filled with alternating joy and grief as his career and personal life took many ups and downs. That's all behind him now, and I can't help but wonder if he'll lean toward taking the professional route which would allow him to finally de-stress a bit, and rightfully reap the benefits of his golden status. I sure would. The prospect of facing another four years of anxiety and neverending hard work would make me run for the hills. He would be sorely missed on the amateur level if he took this route, but hey...I think he more than deserves to enjoy himself now. Time will tell what his decision will be, but whatever his choice, he will still be Alexei Yagudin, 2002 Olympic Gold Medalist.

Four years passed by so quickly. I remember sitting across from him in a Friendly's restaurant in Freehold, New Jersey in 1998, and asking him why he had risked his health...and indeed, his life...by skating in Nagano while so ill with pneumonia. His eyes widened and he looked at me as if I had taken leave of my senses. "But it was Olympics," was his hushed reply. Question answered, and yes it was a Momentary Lapse of Reason on my part. :o) In response to my autobiography Morning Glory...which is the story of how I was fortunate enough to come to know Alexei...I've received numerous email messages, and continue to receive them to this day although the story was written and net-published almost three years ago. Nearly all of the sentiments expressed in these messages are quite positive and enthusiastic, with a goodly number stating that their admiration for Alexei only increased considerably after reading it. That makes me happy. :o) Some people have asked that I expand on the story; one person stated that she wished I could meet Alexei again, if only to congratulate him on his Olympic victory. The first suggestion will never materialize, and I'll wager neither will the second. In addition, I am unable to answer the many emails I receive regarding Alexei these days since other, non-skating projects demand more and more of my time. So I give you...and him...this final epistle of mine on the greatest skater this planet has ever known and possibly ever will know. This, and my heartfelt wish for good health, success, happiness and love to walk beside him all the days of his life.

L. Parker-Cheeseman
February 17, 2002