I
know this is an author blog, but I am going to have to add another entry about
figure skating. I think, as an author, you need to recognize the extraordinary
in real life. I first saw Denis Ten skate at the 2009 World Championships.
Live. He was an itty bitty fifteen-year-old from a country that had never
produced an elite figure skater, and he was in seventeenth place after the
short program.
To
tell you the truth, I have no memory of that short program. According to the
British television commentators, he deserved better marks and I believe them;
but you have to understand that during the World Championships that year there
were fifty men competing. That is a LOT of gladiators and matrixes.
As
an audience member, by the time the free AKA long programs roll around, you’re fairly
numb from sitting so many hours and you’re prepared to stand for anyone who
doesn’t fall down.
Denis
Ten was better than that. He skated clean. He landed two triple axles in a year
in which neither the World gold nor silver medalists attempted a harder jump. He
did not pop a jump. He did not squat really low and put his hands down in what
figure skating rules generously do not call a fall. He did not two-foot a single
jump.
He
hit.
But
what was even more incredible to those of us in the audience was that this
fifteen-year-old could skate to the music. And spin a la Evgeny Plushenko. And do footwork.
And
we were out of our seats and gave Denis Ten the loudest standing ovation for
any man in the competition outside the gold medal winning American, Evan
Lysacek.
Denis
placed sixth in the free skate, and probably did not make the U.S. television
broadcast; but he was amazing.
And
young. Training in Russia with the choreography of plausibly the most famous
skating choreographer on earth, Tatiana Tarasova. (Coach of three Olympic gold
medal dance teams as well as two Olympic gold men’s medalists).
We—the
skating fans—knew Denis was good. Anyone at that Worlds in L.A. knew he was
better than good.
But
he was from Kazakhstan, and something else figure skating fans know is that
there is no money, little support, and practically no political pull for
skaters from most non-Russian, post-Soviet countries. In fact, there’s precious
little of the latter for skaters from any country that does not host one of the
six senior Grand Prix events.
It’s
very, very easy for a skater from a non-Russian post-Soviet country to get
lost, especially in the search to find and afford an international level coach.
Denis
had a different problem. Inconsistency. He placed eleventh at the 2010 Olympics
and thirteenth at the following Worlds. But what was far more frustrating for
those of us watching was that he couldn’t seem to hit a program early in the Grand
Prix season to save his life. These are the smaller events, and there was no
question Denis had the qualities to compete for a spot on these podiums, but .
. .
Disaster.
After disaster after disaster.
He
had changed coaches by now to Frank Carroll, who—along with coaching Olympian
Michelle Kwan among many others—may have the strongest reputation in the world
for helping young skaters build consistency.
Wasn’t
working for Denis. Probably, in part, because he was growing up.
Then
there were health problems.
And,
yes, a lot of us likely were starting to think this was one of those kids who
was never going to hit.
He
did. Big time at the biggest skating event of 2013, the World Championships.
Second overall and first in the free skate with a score FORTY-SIX points above
his highest A-list mark all season. (Previously, he had not medaled in a single
one of the yearly ten, A-level figure skating events—that season or in his
entire senior career).
For
most athletes, a silver at Worlds would have instantly made them a prime
contender for Olympic gold in 2014.
But
this is Denis.
Once
again the beginning of the season was awful. He had to withdraw from his
opening Grand Prix event due to health issues. Then he missed the podium twice,
placing fourth in the two A-list events he entered.
The
Olympics were billed as a two-man race, between Patrick Chan—the three-time
world champion that Denis had defeated in the free skate the previous year—and
Yuzuru Hanyu—the up and coming teen phenom who had finished behind Denis in
fifth at the Worlds BUT had broken the world record in a Grand Prix event early
in the Olympic season.
The
2014 Olympic men’s competition was in many ways a nightmare, though Patrick and
Yuzuru both skated up to expectations in the short and took what most people
viewed as an insurmountable lead. This left eleven—yes, eleven—men fighting for
the bronze. In days gone by, such a battle would have been impossible since
placements determined an athlete’s ability to move up. Today, that ability is
technically based only on the score, though generally-speaking, a placement in
the final competitive group—top six—is considered vital, since judges’ scores
tend to rise as a competition goes on.
Denis
was in ninth. He had missed on his quad in the short, but due to mutual devastation
among the field, he was still within three points from third place.
Among
skating enthusiasts, this battle became known as the Olympic Bronze Medal
Hunger Games.
The
man in third after the short program, Javier Fernandez, was the reigning European
champion and the most recent athlete to have landed three clean quads in a
single program.
Denis
skated well in the long program. He hit his quad. Hit all the hard jumps.
Fudged a couple of the easier jumps at the end, but skated with wonderful musicality
and maturity and easily earned his season’s best score. He did not remain in
the arena.
There
is no camera footage of Denis’s reaction when he learned that he had won the
bronze medal. In the end, he had one of maybe three clean (without falls) long
programs among the top 13 male skaters. Denis had become the first man from
Kazhakstan to win an Olympic skating medal.
Which,
again, one would think would make him an automatic favorite for this year’s
World Championships. Especially with the Olympic silver medalist sitting out
the season and the gold medalist suffering a bad accident, as well as many falls
in his early events of the season.
But
this is Denis.
Fourth
place at his first Grand Prix event. (Yep, behind—well, three people who did not
win a medal at the Olympic games). He did not make the U.S. television
broadcast (grumble, grumble).
Then
a GORGEOUS short program at his second Grand Prix event in France. Only to have
a wretched fifth-place skate in the long program and finish third overall. His
first Grand Prix medal. Mini-hop.
This
is an Olympic bronze and World silver medalist who has never WON an A-level
event. Going into this year’s Four Continents Championships, essentially one of
the two largest international events leading into Worlds, Denis was not on top
of many skating fans’ prediction lists. Not because of his skating. As skaters
go, Denis has an astounding—almost universal—respect among skating fans for the
quality of his jumps, his basic skating skills, his musicality, his spins, his
speed. Essentially, when Denis is great, we ADORE him.
But
in five previous attempts, he had never medaled at Four Continents. This
despite a huge chunk of the international field skipping the event last year
due to its proximity to the Olympics. Denis competed at last year’s Four
Continents. He placed fourth.
No
one wanted to see him place fourth again. But to be honest it was probably the
highest result most people expected from him.
He
skated another GORGEOUS short program. This one even more spectacular than the
one in France. People were beginning to hope. But we had been here before.
In
the long program, Denis Ten landed two quads—one in a quad triple combination;
two triple axles—one turned out but fully rotated; the full gambit of other
jumps, including a triple singleloop triple sequence; and of course skated with
spectacular spins and footwork and musicality.
He
won.
He
did not only win. He earned the third highest score in figure skating history.
There’s
something incredible about winning an Olympic bronze medal. There’s something
even more extraordinary about an athlete who—after six years on the senior
circuit—knuckles down in the year after said Olympic medal, creates two
fabulous original programs (neither of which is to Carmen, Swan Lake, or
Phantom of the Opera), and competes. To win his FIRST senior A-level
championship.
Bravo.
