Kwan's Dream Becomes a Nightmare
S A L T L A K E C I T Y, Feb. 22 -- Michelle Kwan's lifelong hopes of etching herself into Olympic lore were reduced to the fitful dream of a child. Wrapping herself tightly in a black scarf, Kwan hunched over at the press conference, harkening back to a nightmare she had years ago as a kid.
"I was sleeping before a competition in Las Vegas and I was talking in my sleep 'It's OK, It's OK,'" Kwan recalled, her eyes shrunken with tears. She had been dreaming about skating and being nervous before the event. "Today, that's what I have to remind myself, It's OK, It's OK."The gold medal was Kwan's to lose, and despite all her experience and all the changes she made, firing her coach and choreographer striking out on her own, she faded on the most important night of her life. Her performance had the feel of Katarina Witt's last Olympic free skate: too slow, too old, too conservative.
Plastic 'Gold' Shines Bright
A plastic gold medal, given to Kwan by Dorothy Hamill, shown brighter than the bronze weighing heavily on her chest. Kwan was clearly touched by the gesture, wearing a toy proudly around her neck. But somehow it seemed to make her seem much younger. So perhaps it was appropriate that Kwan was trumped by a kid yet again. This time, Sarah, not Tara, served up an exuberant program for the judges. In fourth after Tuesday night, Sarah Hughes had never even considered winning a medal, let alone the gold. Unfettered by expectations, Hughes skated joyously, no hesitation between the jumps in her combos, no holding back. While Hughes skated, her coach Robin Wagner leapt around covering her mouth, patting her chest, holding her stomach, trying to breathe. She beat her fists in the air to the rhythm of the music, an agitated conductor in the wings. All of Hughes' anxiety seemed to be resting on her. Hughes, finished, stunned. The performance was good enough to win a medal. Catching her coaches' eye, Hughes shrugged in surprise, like Michael Jordan after hitting his sixth 3-pointer in the first half of Game 1 of the 1992 NBA Finals against Portland. Turned out, it was indeed the shrug of a champion. "Yes! Yes!," Wagner yelled, scampering across the rink-side carpet to hug everyone in sight. In the kiss and cry area, teacher and student giggled like a couple of schoolgirls passing notes. The marks went up and both their mouths dropped. They then retreated to their green room.
