Last night was the great shoot-out between two of the finest figure skaters in the world, Russian Evgeny Plushenko and American Evan Lysacek. . . and any of you who watched it or read about it the next day know what a razor close finish it was – or how sour the aftermath has been, thanks to the gracelessness of the Russian and his entourage.
Let me first say that modern day figure skaters often fall short when it comes to old-fashioned sportsmanship, especially when compared to athletes in other Olympic sports. Time and time again I have been inspired and impressed by the warm collegiality between competitors on the ski slopes and race track. . . and disappointed by the cool wariness so often demonstrated by figure skaters. I realize I’m pontificating from the safety of my recliner, but it still seems to me like skaters could pay a little more attention to each other’s performances, instead of cocooning themselves in cautious isolation, and be more appreciative of the excellence of their competitors. Much of the time they do not even watch each other’s performances- and 9 times out of 10 when you ask Skater A about Skater B they have essentially nothing meaningful – let alone appreciative – to say. I know it makes sense for them to focus on themselves and not get caught up in what the other skaters are or are not doing, but for me that robs this sport of something crucial to its heart and soul. There are those exceptions- and I was certainly relieved to hear Lysacek say some complimentary things about Plushenko – but it’s also true that he didn’t have too much friendly to say until the competition was over and the gold medal was his. And the wariness and frostiness between the gold and silver medalist on the podium appeared to me to be very much a two-way street, thanks I’m sure to the verbal sparring which had already occurred between them earlier in the week. All that was such a turn-off for me, and it made me all the sadder that American Jeremy Abbott and Canadian Patrick Chan, two of the friendliest and most gregarious skaters – and two of the most gifted – had such a tough time of it and were nowhere near the medal stand. I am certain that the medal ceremony would have been an entirely different affair had they been up there receiving hardware.
(I’m really surprised that nobody over the air or in print seems to have drawn a contrast between last night’s icy tension and what was seen 22 years ago, when American Brian Boitano barely edged out Canadian Brian Orser for the gold in the famous Battle of the Brian’s. It was a heartbreaking loss for Orser – the defending world champion, especially because the loss occurred in Canada, before a crowd for whom he was so desperate to bring home the gold. I’ll never forget their heartfelt embrace during the medal ceremony- and the unfailingly gracious way in which they spoke of each other’s skating. Now that’s how to do it, guys.)
The confrontation between Plushenko and Lysacek was still a classic, and given how brilliantly they both skated, I am astounded that the Russian couldn’t find it within himself to acknowledge what his American competitor had managed to do out on the rink. If Lysacek had somehow bungled his skate in any significant way but was still given the title, then there would be cause for complaint. But this was obviously not about any special favors or about any gross miscarriage of justice. It was about weighing different kinds of greatness, which is never easy, and about the entirely understandable and even unavoidable disappointment when there can be only one winner out of two great performers who both did so well. Someone had to be second. How much nicer it would have been if that person could have been a gracious loser; in a competition this close, that would have made them a winner as well in most people’s minds.
And for the record, I heartily endorse the judges’ choice of Lysacek as champion, although if Plushenko had landed more of his jumps more perfectly, I might very well have given it to him by a razor’s edge. But there were at least three jump landings that were a bit off-kilter and far-from- perfect, and given that the jumps were by far the most important of Plushenko’s strengths, the imperfection of those jumps. . . and the fact that so many of the hardest jumps were crowded to the beginning, with the entire last minute devoid of big jumps . . . for me was why he deserved to finish second. But even if his jumps had been all landed perfectly, I think Lysacek’s overall performance was far more polished and artistically satisfying.
Anyway, it was a big, exciting night . . . and beyond the top two finishers, I loved the skating of the bronze medalist from Japan, as well as his countryman whose performance had to be interrupted because of a shoelace malfunction and who carried on so courageously. I was delighted with how well Johnny Weir skated- and also happy to see U.S. champion Jeremy Abbott do some good things after a rough start to his long program. And Switzerland’s Stephan Lambiel showed us that a fabulous spin is every bit as exciting and impressive as the biggest jumps.
But what remains with me almost more than Lysacek’s stunning victory is Plushenko’s sour loss. . . and my wish that there could be a little more warmth, of all things, out on that ice and especially up on that medals podium.