So it is hardly surprising that when last night’s pairs competition-with its dueling Russian and Canadian teams-came down to a debatable finish, NBC pronounced it a hose job and stirred up the controversy for all its worth. The network’s announcers were hardly alone; most of the self-styled experts thought that the world champion Canadians, Sale and Pelletier, had skated stylishly and without error in their romantic program, while the Russians, Berezhnaya and Sikharulidze, had a few minor bobbles. The Canadians, who followed the Russians, clearly believed they won. Pelletier kissed the ice while Sele rocked back in disbelief at their flawless effort. But the nine-judge panel favored the Russians, with their more classical routine, by a narrow 5-4 margin.
American coaches, led by Frank Carroll, had presaged the controversy earlier in the week by insisting that the judging was always biased in favor of the Russians and against skaters from the West. Carroll, the former coach of Michelle Kwan and current coach of American Olympian Tim Goebel, was not suggesting that there was still Cold War enmity at work. Rather, the breakup of the Soviet Union created a lot more skating nations-mostly former Soviet Republics like Belarus, Ukraine, Latvia-with their own officials now in the judging pool. And their aesthetic taste was governed by their training in classic Soviet figure-skating styles.
There’s little doubt about who is taking home the medals. Since the Soviet breakup, Russian skaters (or those trained in the Soviet Union) have won 10 of the 12 gold medals, with Americans Kristi Yamaguchi and Tara Lipinski the only exceptions; neither had significant Russian opposition. The Soviet Union had never won a gold medal in skating singles, but now Viktor Petrenko, Alexei Urmanov and Ilia Kulik have claimed successive men’s golds, while Oksana Baiul nipped Kerrigan for the gold in Lillehammer.
Lillehammer ‘94 was probably the best-and if you buy into the bias theory, the most egregious-example of the Russian advantage. All four decisions were controversial and, in the eyes of a significant portion of the crowd and the press, wrong. Baiul, arguably one of the great charmers on ice, narrowly bested Kerrigan with a far less demanding program technically. And the elegant Urmanov defeated the macho, leaping machine Elvis Stoyko. (In the previous Olympics in Albertville, most fans believed American Paul Wylie had outskated Petrenko.) In the dance competition in Norway, two Russian teams were placed ahead of crowd favorite Torvill and Dean, who couldn’t quite reprise their “Bolero” magic a decade later, but still skated exceedingly well. And even in a battle between two great Russian pairs, both Olympic gold-medal winners, the same bias seemed to be at play; the judges favored the classical style Gordeeva and Grinkov over the looser, wilder passionate skate of Mishkutenok and Dmitriev.
That divide within the Russian camp will be fascinating to watch in the men’s competition beginning tonight. Plushenko is far more balletic, though he frequently touches up his classical style with some funky moves and Elvis-style hip-wiggles. Yagudin is the passionate Russian charging off the steppes. Plushenko, the defending world champion, was defeated by Yagudin in December’s Grand Prix final, with the judges clearly signaling to Plushenko that his avant-garde bent and sexual hijinks had gone too far. He has come to Salt Lake with a brand new program, one likely, with his veteran coach, to be far more in tune with the Russian mainstream.
In the pairs, there were actually five judges from what can loosely be termed the old western alliance-the United States, Canada, Germany, Japan and France. A Russian, Ukrainian, Polish and Chinese judge made up the old red brigade. That might have portended a Canadian win. But the French broke ranks and, in effect, cast the deciding vote against a pair that included a French-Canadian kid. Conspiracy theorists are suggesting that the French, desperate for support from Eastern bloc judges later this week for its star ice-dancing team, cast their lot with the Russian pair.
In terms of judging controversies, especially by the standards of, say, boxing, the pairs decision did not seem particularly outlandish. And neither pair was willing to feed into the debate afterwards. The Russians had left the ice and didn’t get to see the Canadians perform. “I know they skated great,” said Berezhnaya. “I’m not a judge. I’m a skater.” The Canadians were gracious, if clearly disappointed and distressed by the decision. “We are just so proud of what we did,” said Pelletier. Then, in a reference to the subjective and capricious nature of his sport, he said, “If I didn’t want this to happen to me, I would have skied down a hill.” Added Sale: “Our silver medal is worth a gold.”
But the Russians’ gold won’t require any emotional alchemy to recognize. And there was plenty in their performance to suggest they merited it. At the very least, it was more intricate, stylized and sophisticated. In the end, perhaps the Canadians paid a price for skating to the treacly “Love Story.” And in the eyes of one figure-skating fan who was there watching, that wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen to the sport.