Dance of a Lifetime

by Frank Downey

  They ran into Jennie Sellers and Denis Poulin, the Canadian pairs skaters.

  "Hi guys!" Sophia greeted them. "Nervous?"

  "Oh, yeah," Jennie told them. "We skate tomorrow, you bet we're nervous."

  "Are you guys going to skip the Opening Ceremonies?" Warren asked them.

  "Nah," Denis told them. "We thought about it, our coach said we should, since we're competing tomorrow. But, we figured, what the heck--this might be our only Olympics, right?"

  "Yeah. I'm glad we have a week, didn't have to make that decision," Sophia said.

  "Good luck to you guys," Jennie said.

  "Same to you!"

  * * *

  "I skipped this last time--not making that mistake twice," Liz Cushman was telling Warren and Sophia, as they gathered in the staging area, getting ready to parade into the opening ceremonies.

  "I've been waiting my whole life for this," Sophia said. "When I first started dancing, when I was a young kid, I dreamed about going to the Olympics, of course. Then when I stopped, I thought I had given that dream up. Even when Warren and I started skating together, we just did it for fun. I never thought we'd make it this far. Somebody pinch me!" Warren and Liz both laughed at that.

  "You getting tips from the Olympic veteran?" Christine Arsenault said as she came up next to them.

  "Not a veteran at this," Liz told her. "I skipped opening ceremonies last time."

  "Geez, I wouldn't dream of doing that," Christine said.

  "I know. Which is why my agent and parents are not here yet, dig?" Everyone laughed at that. "I got talked into it. Not this time." Liz sighed. "Everybody treated the Olympics four years ago as a deadly serious thing. Everyone around me, I mean. It was, at the same time, deadly serious and 'just another competition'. Well, it's neither, and I told all the people around me that I wasn't going to do that this time. This is the Olympics, for Goodness' sake. I plan to enjoy myself. I told my coach I'd see him at the rink for practice and not before or after, I told my agent to stay home, and I told Rich to get his ass over here!" She giggled.

  "Is he coming?" Warren asked.

  "Yup. He's either here or on his way right now. He flew in today, was hoping to make it in time for the ceremonies, but, if he didn't, that's OK, too. At least he's going to be here."

  They chatted for a few minutes more, and then Christine and Liz wandered off, greeting other friends.

  Sophia and Warren stood there, looking around, when they saw a tall, wiry guy with blonde hair approaching them.

  "How you doing? Alan Zimmer, downhill skiing."

  "Hi, Alan. I'm Warren Kelleher, she's Sophia Daniels. We're ice dancers." They all shook hands.

  "Hey! I know you guys! You're the lovebirds, right?"

  "That's us," Sophia grinned, blushing.

  "I've heard of you, too," Warren said. "Didn't you get top five in a couple of the last World Cup races?"

  "Yeah, thanks! Fourth in a downhill in Austria, and fifth in a Super GS in France. Nice to know somebody notices!"

  "I like watching skiing," Warren told him.

  "We're going tomorrow, to watch the downhill. We can't wait," Sophia added.

  "Hey, Mister Gregarious! Chatting up the ice dancers?" a dark-haired guy said from behind Alan.

  "You got it, buddy!"

  "How you doin'? I'm Toby Corr, I'm also a skier. I know who you guys are, my girlfriend is a figure skating nut."

  "Nice to meet you," Warren said, as he and Sophia shook hands with Toby.

  "I'm surprised you guys are here. Aren't you skiing early next morning?" Sophia asked them.

  "Yeah, but we couldn't miss this. We'll get out early enough to get a good night's sleep, so we decided to come," Alan told them.

  "Great! Enjoy the opening ceremonies!" Sophia told them.

  "You too! C'mon, Toby, let's go meet more people!" With that, they were off.

  Sophia and Warren milled around for a little longer, greeting friends and meeting new people. Then, the USOC officials with them started herding all the USA athletes together. It was time to enter the stadium.

  "This is all so exciting," Sophia said happily. "I still can't believe we're actually here!"

  "I know what you mean," Warren said. He took her hand, and they started walking with the rest of their teammates.

  They proceeded through the tunnel leading to the stadium, and walked out the other end, to the sight of 50,000 people yelling and cheering.

  "Les Etats-Unis d'Amerique!" the announcer intoned, heralding in French the arrival of the American team.

  "Look, the president is here!" Warren told Sophia.

  "Great, you found the president, where're our parents?" Warren asked with a laugh.

  "They might be harder to find, Snugglebear, they're not in the VIP seats," Sophia teased him.

  "There's the president of the IOC, though," Warren said.

  "Look, a TV camera, right on us!" Sophia said, and then, with an impish grin, gave Warren a kiss on the cheek.

  "Hey, none of that!" Andrea Wallach called from behind them. They just giggled and kept walking, hand in hand.

  "Look, Sophia, there's your mom! Wave!" Warren said. They did, as did half of the figure skaters, prodded on by Jack Garrison yelling, "Everybody wave at Sophie's Mom!"

  "Is this your first Olympics?" a woman behind them asked.

  "Yup. I'm Sophia Daniels, this is Warren Kelleher, we're ice dancers."

  "I'm Claudia Moore, I'm a luger. It's my third Olympics. Walking behind two first-timers is great. You guys are having a ball."

  "We're still pinching ourselves to convince ourselves we're actually here," Warren told her.

  "I know the feeling," Claudia laughed.

  They kept walking, waving to the crowd, until they reached the end of the line and were herded into the infield for the rest of the ceremonies.

  A few hours later, they stumbled back to the village, exhausted (and hungry) but excited and happy also. "Just think, Pookie," Sophia told Warren over a late snack in the village dining hall, "we're going to be able to tell this unborn kid of ours that he or she marched in the Olympic opening ceremonies. How cool is that?"

  "Very cool. Almost as cool as us marching!"

  Chapter 98 - Direct From Salzburg

  They had a morning practice the next day. They blew it off. They had told June and Kathy--both of whom were there with them--that they were going to. "We're going to watch downhill skiing. We'll see you at the afternoon practice!"

  "Guys..." Kathy started.

  "Hey, it's the Olympics," Sophia told them. "Screw it. We're trained, this practice isn't on the main ice, and Warren loves downhill skiing. See you!"

  They found a spot at the end of the hill. To their amusement, they found themselves surrounded by Austrians. In fact, they found themselves in the midst of a bunch of rabid Gerhard Weichenbauer fans. Weichenbauer was the world's number one ranked downhiller. And, there they were, in their "USA" coats, waving tiny American flags.

  "Was? Americans?" one of them asked a friend.

  "Hey, are you lost?" the friend asked Warren and Sophia.

  "Probably," Sophia laughed. "We just wanted to get a good seat."

  "I see your coats. Are you athletes?"

  "Yes, we're ice dancers," Sophia told him.

  "We skipped practice to come watch some skiing," Warren laughed.

  "Ah. Is gut. Austrian skiers are the best, yes?"

  "Yes," Warren laughed. "Alan Zimmer's been skiing well lately, though."

  "Ja, he has. Got fourth in Innsbruck. I'm Otto, this is Wilhelm."

  "I'm Warren, this is Sophia."

  "You stay with us, ja, see skiing with Austrians?"

  "Yeah," said Sophia, "It'll be fun. As long as you don't mind us cheering for Alan Zimmer."

  "Sure," Otto said, "for silver or bronze!"

  Sophia and Warren stayed with the Austrian ski fanatics, and Sophia was right--they had a blast. One of the Austrians had brought some sort of grill, and
, the next thing they knew, they each had a bratwurst in their hands. Then they had a beer in the other hand. And the race was about to start, so the Austrians were getting rowdy.

  The first skier was a Swiss. He fell. The predominantly Swiss crowd groaned, but the Austrians delighted in it.

  "We don't hate the Swiss, except in skiing," Otto told them with a smile.

  A couple of other skiers came down, then the first Austrian--Ingo Buell. "He's a youngster," Otto told Warren and Sophia, "new to the national team."

  "IN-GO! IN-GO! IN-GO!" the Austrians screamed as the skier roared down the hill. Warren and Sophia watched the huge video screens track his progress down the hill, until he appeared in their sight roaring down the final bit of terrain into the finish area.

  "Sehr gut! Sehr gut!" one of the Austrians was yelling as the time flashed on the screen. It was a good time. It was early, but Buell had moved into first place by a full second.

  Two skiers later, Alan Zimmer left the starting gate. "GO ALAN!" Sophia hollered, to the bemusement of the Austrians.

  "Do you know him?" Otto asked them.

  "We met him last night, at the opening ceremonies. He's great," Sophia told him.

  He was roaring down the hill. They checked his progress on the video screen and the timer. "Ah, great time," one of the Austrians said as he passed the halfway point.

  "He is really skiing well," Otto said admiringly, watching him on the screen. He roared into the final bit, and barreled over the finish line. Looking up at the timer, they saw that Alan had moved into first place.

  "YEA, ALAN! WHOOO! USA! USA!" Sophia and Warren yelled. The Austrians smiled and good-naturedly clapped them on the back.

  "Enjoy it while it lasts," Otto told them. "The Master is after this Norwegian guy."

  The Norwegian finished, out of the running, and Gerhard Weichenbauer took to the hill. The Austrians started screaming "GER-HARD! GER-HARD!" and then the traditional Austrian skiing chant, "HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP!" Warren and Sophia loved it. Somebody thrust tiny Austrian flags in their hands. They looked at each other with a smile, and started waving them along with their American flags.

  "HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP!" Weichenbauer was tearing down the hill full-bore, as he came around the bend into the final section. "HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP! HOP!" He cruised across the finish line, and all eyes turned towards the scoreboard. Weichenbauer had flown into first place. Sophia and Warren's Austrian companions went completely berserk. And, of course, more beer was passed around and mugs were raised.

  Many other skiers came down the hill, pursuing Weichenbauer, but none could catch him. The Swiss champion, Frederic Boucher, came close, and had the home country crowd on its feet, but fell just short. The good news for Warren and Sophia was that Alan Zimmer did, in fact, hold on for an upset bronze.

  "Good day for Austria, pretty good day for USA, too," Otto said with a toast of his beer mug.

  "I'm glad there aren't any prominent Austrian ice dancers!" Warren told him.

  * * *

  They thanked their new Austrian friends for their hospitality, and made arrangements to join them for the super giant slalom in three days. Then they went to lunch, took a quick nap, and made off for practice. They practiced 'Romeo and Juliet' and were thrilled with the way it went.

  Walking through the village, they saw Gerhard Weichenbauer walking the other way. They approached him. "Sprechen zie Anglisch?" Warren asked him.

  "Sure," he said with a smile.

  Sophia and Warren introduced themselves. "We watched you ski today, surrounded by, apparently, the Salzburg division of your fan club," Sophia told him.

  Gerhard smiled. "How did you end up there?"

  "Just happened," Warren said. "It was great. We had a blast."

  "They didn't torture two lost American ice dancers, did they?"

  "Nah, they just plied us with beer and bratwurst and made us yell 'Hop! Hop! Hop!' when you came down the hill," Sophia said with a grin.

  Gerhard laughed out loud. "That must have been an experience."

  "It was a blast," Warren told him. "Watching skiing with Austrians, who can beat that? Congratulations."

  "Thank you. It's a good thing for you guys I won, you wouldn't want have been surrounded by depressed Austrians!"

  * * *

  After supper, it was time for the first ice skating competition of the games--the pairs' short program.

  Warren and Sophia's friends Andrea and Brett were fairly early in the order, and skated wonderfully. They didn't miss an element, and had really matured in their skating.

  The Russian world champions, Zhalenya and Stanskiy skated later, and moved into first, even though they made a mistake in their side-by-side jumps. The Canadians Sellers and Poulin were next, skated clean, but still finished second.

  "Figures," Sophia said to Warren.

  When all was said and done, the Russians and Canadians were one-two. Andrea and Brett finished fourth, which was fine, as they would skate in the final group and were in position to try to get a medal.

  Warren and Sophia walked through the village hand in hand.

  "Not a bad first day at our first Olympics, eh?" Warren said.

  "You got that right! Of course, we haven't had to skate yet!"

  "We'll be fine. How are you feeling?"

  "Fine. No problems."

  "Great. Up for sleep and Day Two?"

  "You betcha!"

  Chapter 99 - The Dancers Take The Ice

  The first week proceeded like the first day did. Warren and Sophia got out and saw as much as they could see. They practiced. Sophia's morning sickness acted up a bit, but not much, and she was feeling generally good and fit.

  Tuesday was the pairs' long program. Brett and Andrea were the first pair in the final group, and they skated wonderfully. "That's the best I've ever seen them skate," Warren said, and Sophia agreed. Brett and Andrea were beside themselves with joy as they came off the ice. When the other Russian team, which had been in third place, stumbled, Andrea and Brett found themselves assured of a medal, leading with only two pairs to go.

  Zhalenya and Stanskiy were first. They skated good, but not great. They moved ahead of Andrea and Brett, and their presentation marks were, as always for Russians, overinflated--but the door was open.

  Jennie Sellers and Denis Poulin stormed through that door and slammed it shut behind them. They were magical. They were perfect. The crowd was on its feet 30 seconds before the end of the program.

  "Let's hope the judges don't screw that one up," Warren said to Sophia. They didn't. Sellers and Poulin became the first Canadian pairs team to ever win an Olympic gold medal.

  * * *

  Wednesday morning found them back on the slopes, with the Austrian contingent, watching the men's Super Giant Slalom. More beer, more bratwurst, and another gold for Gerhard Weichenberger. That evening, they had their first practice on the Olympic ice. It was an OD practice, and they ran through a spirited rendition of "If You Can't Rock Me."

  Thursday was the men's short program. Jack Garrison, landing his troublesome quad, skated cleanly into third place, behind the Russians, Ganyavin and Bondarchenko.

  Finally, Friday, it was the dancers' turn.

  * * *

  "Did you see the makeup of the judging panel?" Canadian ice dancer Renee Damphier asked Sophia and Warren at breakfast Friday morning?

  "Yeah, we did," Sophia told her. "What a stroke of luck--only two members of the Ice Dance Judging Mafia on the panel."

  The Ice Dance Judging Mafia was a term that some of the North American dance teams--and their internet fans--had come up with to describe a group of judges representing countries like Russia, Italy, France, Germany, Ukraine, and occasionally a few others. These judges tended to judge in a bloc, intimidate other judges, try to control the panel, and put dance teams in pre-decided "slots" in a competition. They also pushed the ethos of over-emotive bad mock-acting over actual dancing.

  In the Olympics, there was only one panel
that judged all four segments, unlike Worlds. This could bode badly for anyone that wasn't in the favor of the Mafia, because they could control every event if they controlled the panel. However, this year, the IOC widened the amount of judges that served as the pool that the nine Olympic judges were drawn from. The allegations of bloc judging and a Judging Mafia had hurt the sport.

  Sophia and Warren, plus Renee Damphier and her partner Christian Gaudler, were thrilled with the makeup of the panel at the Olympics. Only Russia and France from the Mafia were on it. The USA and Canada were on it. The other five judges were from Finland, Great Britain, Hungary, Austria, and Japan. Only Great Britain and Hungary had dance teams with even a hint of a chance to get into the top ten, and then only in the lower reaches thereof. Plus, the judges from those two countries here were known as impartial judges of integrity. Finland, Austria, and Japan had no axe to grind at all.

  "We might actually have a fair competition," Christian told his companions.

  The first compulsory was the Silver Samba. The Russians went one-two, the French beat the Canadians, and Warren and Sophia were fifth. There were some grumblings about that, and some people wondered if the Mafia hadn't gotten to some of the other judges. Sophia and Warren weren't too worried, however, as the Silver Samba was not their strength, and it was a strength of some of the teams above them--the second Russian pair of Yatserova and Vaglach and the French pair of Borisina and Dravouche in particular.

  The second compulsory was the quickstep. This was one of Sophia and Warren's better compulsories, as it was of the Canadians. In fact, lots of people thought that they had the two best Quicksteps in the world. Neither of them won it--the three-time world champions Bradochkina and Zhargov did--but they beat everyone else, the Canadians placing second and Warren and Sophia third. Third in any compulsory was a real breakthrough for them. They ended up fifth after the compulsories, but second through fifth was almost a tie. A good showing in the OD, and they'd be right in it--and the OD was their strength.