Every four years, my world stops for the Winter Olympic Games. And since I was a little girl, I’ve followed the same schedule for the two-week duration of the Games: wake up, go to school, train for countless hours at the rink, go home, do homework and then watch anxiously as the world’s top athletes competed for medals and glory in the sports to which they’ve dedicated their entire lives.
I used to be a competitive figure skater, and like many of the girls I trained with, dreamed that I would one day be able to don the Team USA jacket and represent the United States on Olympic ice. Although my Olympic dreams officially ended when I quit the sport five years ago, my enthusiasm for the Games hasn’t dwindled in the least; last Thursday was no different.
On Thursday night, I rushed through an econ problem set, clutched my roommate’s hand and waited with bated breath, as I watched the men’s long program – a four-and-a-half minute test of strength, endurance and sheer willpower – as figure skating crowned its new men’s Olympic champion.
Perhaps what made this event especially remarkable, aside from the unpredictability of a sport whose outcome is determined by judges and the skaters’ quarter-inch blades, was the talent of the competition, the deepest and most talented field of men in recent Olympic history. In the months leading up to the Games, men’s figure skating saw the surprise reemergence of Russian Evgeni Plushenko, the 2006 Olympic champion, who returned from a three-year retirement solely to defend his Olympic title, as well as the return of Stephane Lambiel, the 2006 Olympic silver medalist. With a strong Japanese contingent, an outstanding American team led by 2009 world champion Evan Lysacek and Canadian gold-medal hopeful Patrick Chan, the list of medal contenders could be categorized into two distinct groups – veterans from an era past and the sport’s current world medalists.
At the end of Tuesday’s short program, it was clear that the Olympic champion would be crowned in a showdown between Plushenko and Lysacek in the long program – between a quadruple jump and no quadruple jump, between old jumping styles and new artistry. Lysacek skated first in the final group and, despite the lack of a quad on his technical elements sheet, turned in what was perhaps the performance of his life. While he lacked a quad, he more than made up for it with strong spins, eight triple jumps and spectacular choreography.
An hour later, Plushenko took the ice as the final skater of the men’s competition. Surely enough, the first jump of his performance was a quadruple-triple combination, and Plushenko landed it with ease and command. However, his program seemed to reach its apex with that quad, as the Russian fought for landings on several of his triple jumps – jumps that he normally could have landed in his sleep – and displayed markedly slow spins. Although his performance was characterized by several hip thrusts, as entertaining as they were to watch, his choreography just did not match Lysacek’s, which bled with emotion.
By the time Plushenko finished his performance, he certainly thought he had done enough to win the gold medal. The figure skating world, the viewing audience, Evan and I collectively held our breaths to see if Plushenko, who held less than a one-point lead after the short program, had done enough to defend his Olympic title. After perhaps the longest minute in both of these skaters’ lives, the judges announced the scores – Lysacek had won by 1.31 points.
I remember screaming out of happiness as Evan himself jumped for joy on the screen in front of me. But, as soon as the gold medal was draped over Evan’s neck, Plushenko resumed his trash talking once again, saying that he deserved to win and questioning how one could become an Olympic champion without a quad in his repertoire.
It seems that Evan’s victory has been somewhat marred by this controversy: did he deserve to win without a quad? Elvis Stojko, the 1994 and 1998 Olympic silver medalist and the first man to land a quad in combination, weighed in on this debate, as did Russian Prime Minister Vladimir Putin, who I never knew was an expert on figure skating. Both men (perhaps one with more credibility and knowledge than the other) agreed with Plushenko.
In an article for Yahoo! Sports, Stojko characterized last Thursday as “the night they killed figure skating,” criticizing the newly crowned Olympic champion’s lack of a quadruple jump, as well as the judges’ scoring of the competition. “You’re a great skater and all,” Stojko told Lysacek, “but that wasn’t Olympic champion material.”
While I respect Plushenko tremendously for coming out of retirement and still being able to land quads, his skating was off on Thursday night. And even with the quad, his technique – or at least the technique we saw in his long program – was sub-par compared to what he has done in the past; and it just didn’t compare to Lysacek’s. While Stojko argued that Plushenko should have won because he didn’t make any mistakes, I disagree – Plushenko did make mistakes. He might not have fallen, but the small bobbles and awkward jump landings added up.
Plushenko whined about how Lysacek won based on his footwork and presentation, calling Thursday night’s competition “ice dancing, not men’s figure skating,” but the judges awarded the two men the same scores for artistry, presentation and program components. Ironically, Lysacek bested Plushenko in technical elements, a score awarded for the difficult jumps, spins and step sequences that a skater executes during his program.
The scoring system for this sport has changed tremendously since the last time Stojko competed and even since Torino, where Plushenko won gold. And understandably, with the loss of the 6.0 scoring system, the amount of triple jumps and the presence of a quadruple are what the audience knows best. What the new scoring system has done, however, is take skating back to its roots, rewarding skaters for technique; not only do the jumps matter, but also the transitions, choreography and what happens between these hat tricks. Skaters are still rewarded for successful quads, but the new system emphasizes consistency and style. You can’t simply land a jump; you have to land it well. And you can’t just frontload your program with quads and jumps; you need presentation and you need to deliver a performance.
Evan Lysacek delivered that performance on the night when it mattered most. He skated brilliantly and deserves every bit of that gold medal. Had Plushenko landed several of his triple jumps with more conviction, the world might have heard a different national anthem play that night; but that didn’t happen. For the first time in 22 years, an American man stood atop the podium at the Olympic Games, and as a former figure skater, it was almost as good as standing on that medal stand myself.
Plushenko will be back for the 2014 Winter Olympic Games in Sochi, Russia. And while I celebrate Evan’s win today, I can’t wait to see Plushenko skate the performance of his life – quads included, of course – in the hope of regaining his Olympic title in four years. He will be 31 years old at those Games.
For tips on how to become a professional figure skater, contact Jane at [email protected].