Dark Night

And the free program

The first three programs were not skated cleanly. But the fourth skater got through his program without incident, and the fifth as well. As the guy from Russia who was in the bronze medal position stepped onto the ice, I started to get nervous. His program was what I thought of as judge-bait; classical music, loaded with artistic merit and quads, although his combination was a quad-triple and a lutz was the most difficult quad he had. And he two-footed the landing of his opening quad. That set off one of those nightmare chain-reaction things. I felt terrible for him as he flutzed the triple part of his combination jump and made other, smaller errors through the program. I was relieved for the poor guy when it finally came to an end, and immediately found my brother as he stepped out while the Russian headed in to await his score. Which put him in second position with two skaters left.

My brother looked elegant as he arranged himself at center ice. I hoped that he didn't see the difficulties that the other skater were having; that knowledge seemed to infect later skaters. His wavy copper blond hair was longer and it looked good with the antique inflection his costume had. As cello strains opened the performance, he started performing, inhabiting the role of a cellist as his skating gained speed, displaying charm and personality in spades. Good, good. Then there was a crashing guitar chord (whoever had mixed the music was a genius, adding judicious slashes of Angus Young's guitar to the vocals and bagpipes, isolating the cellos in parts, creating a comprehensive and exciting composition.)

Then the jumping started. Splendid and perfect. My brother looked like he was directing the music at times, his charm helping to distract from his less than perfect grace, but it did provide a valid artistic interpretation. His choreographer and Mr Petrov had really amped everything up for this performance. And he finished his program with a triumphant gesture. I found that I had to uncurl; I'd apparently fetaled at some point; my heels were resting on the edge of my seat, arms hugging my legs tightly to my chest, fingers crossed and cramped. I burst to my feet, clapping hard and cheering, hugging my grandpa and parents as Starry waved to the crowd and bowed. I was looking over at the kiss and cry area when Starry saw us, grinned, and waved. We waved back and sat down.

His score had no deductions and he was rewarded with a titanic score of 209.28. The crowd went nuts again and he walked over to the seating area, visibly relieved, taking the center seat reserved for the leader.

And John skated out, placid and serene, as calm as if he was the first skater out for a practice session. His engaging smile made its first appearance just as the music started and he began the first high-energy portion of the routine. I knew he'd watched Queen videos to get something of Freddie Mercury's showmanship and adapted it to his own performance, which was absolutely electric. All the jumps, including his landmark quad axel, nailed down. All was perfect until his final jump, about twenty seconds from the end, which wobbled slightly, then there was a ferociously fast spin, abrupt magnificent end, and a moment of utter silence as the crowd drew its breath to cheer. I bounced to my feet again after almost falling forward out of my seat, cheering and clapping.

I sat down, relieved beyond measure that both my brother and my best friend had not crashed and burned but had had the performances of their lifetimes.

And the scores similarly rewarded John as they had my brother: 210.67. John had won the Olympic gold, my brother the silver. They did that boy handclasp-half hug thing they do at the seating area, then my brother moved over and they sat down to wait for the podium to be brought out for the presentation of the medals. I sank down on my seat as well, feeling exhausted from 'helping' them land their jumps. My family chattered as some of the spectators left, but I reengaged when the medalists stepped out on the red carpet runner that led to the podium. For all their considerable grace on the ice, skaters always clumped along once their skate guards were on, and it made me smile. My eyes started fill as medals were placed around necks, and the medalists straightened as the flags were raised and the Star Spangled Banner played.