Is a Simple Storybook Ending Too Much to Ask For?

At some point in the careers of many aspiring columnists and journalists, it happens. You have the column you had planned to write completely mapped out in your head, all set to go on the paper or computer, when suddenly, everything changes and you're forced to scramble for something else. This week's column was supposed to be about America's new sweethearts, two young women named Michelle who had captured the hearts of the people, one with a guitar, the other with her skating ability. In other words, I was hoping to be writing about the brilliant new singer-songwriter Michelle Branch and the presumed Olympic gold medalist Michelle Kwan.

Now I know how the guy who wrote "Dewey Defeats Truman" felt. Something happened on the way to a nice column: Michelle Kwan fell. She didn't get the gold medal. All this is just as well, as I also had plans to see Ms. Branch in concert tonight, but life (and work) intervened, so the column was already not going to be as good as I had hoped. Also, I don't think that in the grand scheme of things, Ms. Kwan really gives a rat's behind what she's done to an amateur internet columnist's work this week.

Nope, instead we exclusively return you to the Olympic Games, where what should have been the most awe-inspiring and touching night of the competition has been squelched by an entire country that has a lot of trouble getting over itself. That country, of course, would be Russia. You know the story by now, I chronicled the early stages of the pairs figure skating melee in this space last week... the Russian pair unexpectedly got better marks despite a bobble-laced program than the Canadian pair who skated nearly flawlessly. The Russians got the gold, the crowd booed, and thus began the biggest Olympic scandal since Tonya Harding discovered the conspiracy theory. Allegations of back-room deals with the French judge filled the air, while the Russian skaters maintained a petulant and almost condescending attitude toward the whole affair, saying that they had skated better, they won, so "nyah nyah".

Well, the Canadian pair got a gold medal of their own, and on the night of the presentation, it looked like four old friends on that podium as the Russians and Canadians hugged, shot the breeze, and smiled for the world's cameras. Then, the Russian delegation got involved. They claimed that the whole thing was orchestrated by an American media out to screw the Russians. Then, the French judge reversed her ground and said, "Ya know what, I really didn't make any kind of vote-swapping deal after all." Then, the Russians threatened to protest the 2000 gold medal of American wrestler Rulon Gardner, who at that moment just happened to be laying in an Idaho hospital near death with a case of frostbite after getting lost in the woods (brilliant PR move there). Then, other countries got involved. Two nights after a short-track speedskating race turned into I-690 during rush hour in an ice storm, with skaters crashing into each other all over the place, a South Korean skater almost practically hip-checked American Apollo Ohno out of yet another shot at a gold medal. He was caught (and rightly so), and Ohno got the gold, and once again we were treated to a shot of an arena full of booing spectators. The South Korean delegation got so incensed that they have threatened to file a lawsuit in U.S. District Court!!! This pretty much proves that no matter the event or situation, it's only a matter of time before the lawyers get involved and muck it up for everyone.

This all culminated the night of the ladies' free skate, the most-watched night of the Games. The Russians, now ticked off over a cross-country skier who got DQ'ed for alleged blood doping, threatened to take their athletes and go home. Is this kind of paranoia a leftover side effect of all those decades of Communist rule? Anyway, with that hanging over the judges' heads (almost an "our girl wins or we're outta here" threat), we got down to the business of watching what usually is the most beautiful spectacle in sport. And it was, and dramatic besides, as American Sarah Hughes, who was on absolutely NOBODY's radar screen when the night opened, started things off with an inspired program that blew the doors off the Olympic Ice Arena. Then, the other contenders started faltering... Sasha Cohen fell, knocking her out of contention. Then, Michelle Kwan, the early leader, the face we had seen all throughout these games, the story of patience and hard work rewarded if only she could skate a nice, solid, clean program. But she didn't. She fell on a jumping combination, and despite the supportive crowd urging her on, she badly damaged her chances at that elusive gold.

Which brought us to the last skater of the evening, the Russian (can you write a better script than this?), Irina Slutskaya. First off, I gotta apologize for referring to her as "that Russian 'Slut'" last week; pardon my jingoism, but her name is just too easy to make fun of. If she had won the gold medal, thank goodness that they only remember you by your FIRST name. Also, it should be noted that she kinda looks like Stevie Von, afternoon DJ at 94KX in Sunbury, a former co-worker of mine. Anyway, all she needed to do, once again, was skate a clean, solid program and she would win, and justice would prevail (or not). Well, she skated a very nice program, but much like Kwan did in Nagano, it was quite conservative. We kept hearing over and over how Irina was known for her speed and yet she wasn't using it. This left it all up to (surprise, surprise) the judges.

And Sarah Hughes won. And well she should have, because in a show of poetic justice, she reminded us what this is all about. It's the joy of competing, not a giant international pissing contest, it's about a 16-year old girl with Dorothy Hamill-like hair and big dreams, who did her homework on the bus in order to fit in with her skating and still became an honors student and a world-class skater. I for one can identify with the homework bit, although when I did my homework on the school bus, it was usually because I had put it off until the absolute last minute. It's about a Long Island native whose parents built a mini-rink in the back yard so little Sarah could start on her dream of Olympic gold, and then finally realizing it. It's about Sarah and her coach watching the final results come up on the dressing room monitor and then screaming and hugging like two girls at a slumber party who just found out they were going to get to meet 'N Sync. And finally, it's about a nervous, stunned American girl mouthing out the words to the national anthem from the top of the podium with gold around her neck, still shaking her head in utter disbelief at what she had achieved.

Now, this is where the fairy tale story would conclude, but as we are once again reminded, this year's Winter Olympics are no fairy tale, but in no uncertain terms, a nightmare. The Russians have protested the final decision and are demanding that Irina get her own gold medal or else. Or else what, we won't have to see you whining for the last weekend of the games? Or else we won't have to see you in Athens in '04 making a mountain out of a official's molehill then? If that's the choice, I have one word to say to you, Russians: BYE!!! We won't miss you, your delegation has turned this great moment for the world into a joke with your constant whining and complaining. You are way too full of yourselves, and it's about time somebody let you know that, even if it's just an amateur internet columnist. So take your attitude and your shifty judges and your holier-than-thou self-concepts, and get out!

All this has done, really, is get us to the point we seem to be at every time we reach the end of an Olympic games, where we shake our heads and wonder why we even bother putting this event on every 2-4 years. The simple truth is we need the Olympics, but right now I have a hard time trying to come up with a reason to justify saying that.