In figure skating, there were moments of sheer perfection
Zetra, the skating arena in Sarajevo, is a pleasant enough place. Set in a valley just below the stadium where the Olympic flame burns, it spreads like the curved wing of a dove .... stretched out over the snow. Inside, there are comfortable wooden seats, polite ushers and concession stands that sell chocolate and local brandy, a better fix against a winter night than popcorn and beer. Yet to hear of the doings in the figure-skating competition that took place in this outwardly cheerful spot last week was to confuse sport with war dispatches. There were hints of dark intrigue ind geopolitical vote swapping. East met West, West met West, East met East, and almost all shot themselves in the foot.
The top American, Scott Hamilton, went into battle at Zetra and, feeling that he "wasn't into the ice," decided to retrench, withdrawing two triple jumps from his free-skating program. He still won the gold medal, but it was not with the dominating performance with which he wanted to cap his career. The English ice-dancing couple, Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean, gave the Winter Olympics its first utterly flawless exhibition: nine perfect marks of 6.0 from nine judges. But Gary Beacom, a Canadian skater, became so enraged over his marks from the judges that he kicked the rinkside barrier. American Ice Dancers Judy Blumberg and Michael Seibert likewise lashed out in frustration, though in words only, after seeing their hopes for a medal disappear at the whim of a single judge and her totally bewildering scores. Meanwhile, America's ice princess, Rosalynn Sumners, the reigning world champion, overplayed her penchant for femininity and had to settle for a silver medal. In pair skating, the East Germans and Soviets blasted away at each other with programs too difficult to perform without mistakes, and a blithe brother-and-sister act from the U.S. slipped in amid the carnage for a silver medal. Kitty and Peter Carruthers' second-place finish was the best by any American pair since 1952, and broke the East bloc's lock on the event. Before it was all over, no nation could claim to have judged without favor; skewed patriotism is more like it.
The clamor at Zetra follows figure skating like a pack of sequin salesmen, for of all Olympic sports, none is as intensively handicapped—some might say predetermined. The four-year cycle between the Winter Games is spent shaking down a new generation of skaters in annual world championships. By the time the Olympic flame is lit again, a pecking order has been created that places ruthless demands on contenders and newcomers alike. For the favorites, there is the safety of incumbency. Like heavyweight champions, they cannot lose their titles on a draw: they must be beaten. But with that status come expectations that are perhaps impossible to fulfill. Thus, after a performance that was lackluster by his exacting standards, Hamilton could finger his gold medal and say, "I look at this, and I see 16 years of my life. I've waited a long time. I didn't want it to be like this."