Page 101 of The Favorites
Kirk Lockwood:Whatever was going on behind closed doors, they didn’t bring it onto the ice during the original dance. That program shut everyone’s mouths.
Jane Currer:The required rhythm for the original that season was folk dance. The International Skating Union assumed most teams would choose traditional dances from their own countries, to celebrate their culture on the Olympic stage.
Inez Acton:As you might expect in such a blindingly white sport, it turned into a carnival of cultural appropriation.
Ellis Dean:There were Hungarians dancing the hula and Brits doing bhangra and Germans in geisha getups. This was in the Year of Our Lord 2010!
Inez Acton:You could not get away with this shit today. At least, I fucking hope not. Amazingly, though, the U.S. couples all managed to choose relatively inoffensive themes.
Garrett Lin:Bella and I did a modern take on a Chinese sword dance. It was the first time we’d ever performed something inspired by our heritage. We even spent a few weeks working with ajian wumaster in Tianjin. I loved that program, but it was more avant-garde than our usual style. The judges didn’t get it.
Ellis Dean:Fischer and Chan did a country-western line dance, complete with cowboy hats and bedazzled gingham. Let’s just say it didnotmake me proud to be an American.
Katarina Shaw and Heath Rocha take the ice for the original dance event at the 2010 Winter Olympics in Vancouver. She wears a black dress with a sequin-covered tartan sash. He wears a shirt with a lace-up collar and, instead of trousers, a pleated leather kilt. Their music begins with a blast of accordion and fiddle: the traditional Scottish social dance tune “Strip the Willow.”
Kirk Lockwood:The Scottish ceilidh style made perfect use of their strengths. It was energetic, technically challenging, but also full of attitude.
Katarina and Heath perform an intricate step sequence with multiple changes of direction as they speed from one side of the rink to the other. The music transitions to a driving punk rock cover of the same song. They clasp hands and swing each other in a circle, the hem of Heath’s kilt flaring out to show the skintight shorts he’s wearing underneath.
Ellis Dean:Don’t get me wrong, it was a ton of fun. I’m just disappointed Heath didn’tfullyembrace his inner Scotsman, if you know what I mean.
Francesca Gaskell:That program was infectious. You wanted to get up and dance right along with them.
As they launch into a gravity-defying combination, the camera zooms out to show the crowd in the Pacific Coliseum. They’re up on their feet, clapping along with the beat.
Kirk Lockwood:All Shaw and Rocha had to do was hold on to their lead from the compulsory dance, and they’d be in the ideal position going into the free.
Instead of losing steam toward the end of their program, Katarina and Heath seem to be building momentum. The final note plays, and they raise their arms in triumph.
Francesca Gaskell:They didn’t just hold on to the lead. They increased it.
Kirk Lockwood:After the original dance, Volkova and Kipriyanov were a distant second, and the Lins were basically tied with Pelletier and McClory for third.
Heath lowers his arms after a second, but Katarina keeps hers up as she soaks in the adulation of the crowd. She lifts her chin, looking supremely confident—or cocky.
Francesca Gaskell:The gold medal was theirs to lose.
Chapter 58
“Skate well. Do not embarrass me.”
This was what passed for a pep talk from our extremely German coach.
Lena gave us each a bracing slap on the shoulder and left us to finish our warm-up routine alone. The free dance was late in the evening; we would be the final team to skate, so we had plenty of time to prepare. As the lowest-ranked group took the ice, I moved through my usual flow of stretches, breathing into the lingering soreness in my legs and hips.
During the original dance the day before, my inner thighs had ached as if they were bruised—but apparently I’d hidden it well enough to score a season’s best and leave the Russians in the dust. Now four minutes of skating stood between me and everything I’d ever wanted, and I was sure nothing could shake my focus.
After stretching, we went to the dressing rooms to get into costume. I applied my makeup—pale foundation contoured to emphasize my cheekbones, bloodred lips, dark sweeping eyeshadow with a crimson haze at the edges—and put on my dress. I needed Heath’s help to fasten the choker that set off the sweetheart neckline, so I carried it out with me, closed in my hand to protect the delicate beading.
The necklace was a custom piece, designed to look like a slash across my throat with a few drops of blood dangling from my jugular. Though we were using music fromDracula,the story our program conveyed was nothing like the literary classic. I was the ancient, powerfulvampire, and Heath was the young man caught in my thrall. For most of the choreography, I was the aggressor: seducing him, tormenting him, and finally tempting him to taste my blood so we could be together for all eternity.
Heath’s costume and makeup were far simpler—trousers and a tailcoat with red lining, a faint smudge of gray around his eyes to make him look sleepless and ashen—so usually by the time I finished getting ready, he was waiting for me. When I emerged from the dressing room, though, there was no sign of him.
I wandered the backstage area, worrying the red beads between my fingers. Every person I passed—skaters, coaches, staff—seemed to make a point of not looking directly at me. Genevieve Moreau, who’d skated in the first group, did glance my way, but quickly averted her gaze, whispering something to the Czech girl beside her.
Were people seriouslystilltalking about the damn interview? Well, soon Heath and I would be Olympic champions, and they could talk aboutthat.
Bella walked out of the ladies’ restroom. Her makeup was done, but she was in her warm-up clothes, hair only half styled. She had time still, but considerably less than Heath and I did, since she and Garrett were earlier in the order.
