Sunday, February 13, 2000
|
Well, after attending the Keri in October, COI is a rather pale and decidedly overpriced substitute for competitions. But until next year, when I plan to pass up the tour in favor of "real" events, it's the only game in town. And to see Todd Eldredge perform The Glory again... I'll take it. Of course, I wasn't happy to start the day off by forgetting my trusty Todd pennant. It was a long drive from Orlando, in the heart of Florida, to Fort Myers in the southwest corner of the state, and the weekend had already been one of sleep deprivation. That certainly made for an interesting day. The Teco Arena was a peculiar enough place, tucked away behind a shopping complex--and when I arrived in town, three huge trucks emblazoned with the Champions On Ice logo were already parked at the side. I was hoping to get a last-minute near-ice ticket, in a repeat of my Orlando 1999 experience. However, as it turned out, the box office was not even open on Sundays--and the show was sold out as it was, due to the small size of the arena. This time, I would have to settle for the seat I had already gotten in the 18th and apparently last row. Since it was still early and the show was not until 2pm, I went out to lunch not far away. That took longer than I planned. But what was worse was that the skewed layout of the area roadways caused an unbelievable traffic jam of people trying to get to the arena. It was after two when I finally made it back for the show, but fortunately the powers that be were aware of the traffic situation, and waiting until everyone arrived. Unlike the sadistic employees of the former Orlando Arena (now technically called the T.D. Waterhouse Arena or some sponsorship nonsense like that), who are well on the way to requiring strip searches, Teco Arena employees didn't give anyone's baggage even a glance. That was fine with me and the large black bag I had my cameras in--a bag I generally use for my own skates. I got in without any interference, and once inside, went ahead and bought a ridiculously overpriced program. After all, they do sometimes come in handy. As usual, the challenge was finding the right seat, especially since the layout of the place was as bad as the local roads. But with the help of an employee, I at last found my spot. It was the last row alright--directly against the wall--but it was center ice at least. The only problem was that it was at the top of an aisle, and the handrail running down the middle of the steps obstructed the view a little, at least for someone of my height. Aside from that, though, it wasn't a terribly bad view of the ice. All the same, I didn't bother trying to take more than half a dozen pictures. And the older folk on either side of me were nice and inobtrusive, unlike people I have sat beside in Orlando. During the intermission, I realized that the audience was three-quarters comprised of retirees. (The other 25% were most likely patrons of one of the arena's sponsors--namely, Harley-Davidson.) Well, on with the show. The opening was basically the same as last spring (and so was the finale, for that matter), with some different faces of course--Dorothy Hamill, Brian Boitano, Katarina Witt, Nancy Kerrigan, Usova & Platov and Brasseur & Eisler were all skaters I had not seen in person before. They were to perform alongside Viktor Petrenko, Oksana Baiul, Surya Bonaly, Philippe Candeloro, Kazakova & Dmitriev, Punsalan & Swallow and Klimova & Ponomarenko, all of whom I had seen in May of 1999. And of course, Todd Eldredge, who ironically was the only one I was seeing for the third time. If you begin to wonder why the following observations are categorized by division instead of program by program, the answer is simple enough. Between my lack of sleep at the time and most of the skaters performing twice, the skate order now eludes me entirely. In all honesty, I don't care for Punsalan & Swallow. Their one program this year was better than last year's Sonny & Cher routine, though, and had its humorous moments. Klimova & Ponomarenko also skated only once. As a confirmed avoider of ice dance, it was nice enough to watch, but nothing that impressed me. On the other hand, Usova & Platov are the one couple in ice dance that I really pay much attention to, and it was good to see them perform Moonlight Sonata in person. I surprised myself by enjoying Kazakova & Dmitriev. I could probably see the same programs on television and not be very interested, but live, they were fun to watch. So were Brasseur & Eisler--whom I have liked for some time. You haven't seen a headbanger until you've seen one in person. Dorothy Hamill was pleasant enough to watch. I am not a particular fan of her or her programs, but I do appreciate her skill at pure skating, so often lost now upon younger generations of skaters. She skated twice, the second program being her Patty Lupone piece. Katarina Witt was her sassy self, skating to the same programs shown on the COI broadcast the week before--a sultry instrumental piece, and late in the show, her Evita routine. I don't even remember Oksana Baiul's first program. Her second one involved a single candle as a prop--battery powered, not lit, it should be noted. She did stumble out of one jump, but did well otherwise. Since the first time I saw her in person, I have respected her efforts at pulling her life together, and duly appreciated her performance. Nancy Kerrigan skated to an instrumental program, wearing a blue costume I remembered liking when I saw it on Skaters' Tribute to Broadway. All well and good... I'd hoped to get away without seeing her Shania Twain routine, but that was her second program, and probably the worst ladies' costume I have ever seen in person. (Well, it's a contender, along with Marina Anissina's purple-and-green leotard with the strategically placed "eyes".) Kerrigan, like Baiul, stumbled out of a jump. Surya Bonaly skated early in the show, bringing to light how powerful she is athletically. She being the first ladies' skater I took any interest in, it was nice to see her getting due credit from the audience at least, despite how badly judges tend to treat her. And I had a great view of her backflip, too. Vladimir Besedin and Alexei Plishuk, the two acrobats on ice, were incredibly entertaining when they skated after the ice was resurfaced. In the darkened arena they were introduced as "the fastest athletes on Earth"--prompting laughter when they appeared, shuffling across the ice at a snail's pace. They were really remarkable. So much of what they do defies description. But their move that amazed me most never even made it to the COI broadcast: when they were introduced during the finale, Plishuk performed a handstand balancing on Besedin's hands--while Besedin skated halfway around the rink. Philippe Candeloro skated twice. Ah well... D'Artagnan was entertaining the first dozen times (especially when he played up to me and my camera last year), but since then, I have not been impressed. His first program was his strange, shirtless, mud-smeared barbarian routine--during which someone in the front row of my section got the Philippe Attack--and the second was Braveheart. Overacting incarnate... and it was during Braveheart that he had the only fall of the night. Brian Boitano, on the other hand, did impress me. He never interested me before, but I greatly enjoyed seeing him. He skated first to The Prayer by the great Andrea Bocelli, and the opening figures were directly in front of me. That was fascinating--many who were lucky enough to see figures in their day have complained to me that they were boring, but not so to me. This was the stuff skating in its purest and truest form was made of, and makes me mourn the loss of figures all the more. I wish the light would have been used to show the pattern he skated. At any rate, he skated excellently, both to that program and his funky, entertaining Wild Elephants program at the end of the show. Triple Tano lutzes and all, he was a highlight of the event. And speaking of highlights... I was watching, in the dark, when a shape skated out that looked like two pairs skaters in some kind of embrace. It turned out to be Viktor Petrenko, who completely stole the show with an outrageous mambo--which included a puppet dance partner attached to the front of his costume! The routine was truly hysterical--especially seeing him try to get his "partner's" hips wiggling--and more amazing, he jumped as well as anyone else with it/her sticking to him. He kept the audience laughing from start to finish. I have genuinely liked Viktor for some time, and this was icing on the cake. And the best for last, of course! Todd Eldredge may very well be in the finest form he has ever been in his career, and in this performance, he was out to show it. I hadn't watched his program to New York New York by Frank Sinatra when it was shown on TV, wanting to see it in person the first time as I had The Glory. I had read a couple reviews, which detailed a new costume--but for some reason, he was wearing his costume for Cabaret instead when he appeared early on to perform NYNY. No matter the attire, however, I was happy to see him. Adore Todd or not, it has to be said I do not like Sinatra--but NYNY isn't bad, and Todd made it a lot of fun to watch. He was also jumping spot-on. Later on came The Glory, perhaps my favorite of all Todd's programs (especially when I watch the 1999 Masters). As had been reported from other shows, he was wearing the 1997 Independence Day costume, which seems to have become his all-purpose outfit. It was wonderful to see this program again. The first time I saw it--the first time he performed it--he had not been entirely on, and I hadn't been able to get quite a "handle" on it. But this time, I was able to truly enjoy it. In all fairness, he doubled a jump, in a way that was very visible. But he came right back with a tremendous triple axel. Since he popped the triple axel at the Keri, I hadn't gotten to see him land one before, and it was a thrill. Both times he presented a bouquet of flowers (to the lucky seat winner and then to a random person at the end), it was at the other side of the rink. But I at least got to enjoy seeing him in a tuxedo. And of course, I kept my eyes on him during the finale. He was very cute dancing around on the ice. I burst out laughing a few times as I watched him on the sideline, when other skaters were in the spotlight. The show over, the lights came up--and thanks to the poor design of the rink, a human logjam was created, not unlike the traffic tieup on the road earlier. When I finally got out of the place, I went around to the side, where the bus was parked. Quite a few people were already there--rowdy, obnoxious people, to be precise. When a few skaters started to come out, the crowd did a lot of yelling and shoving; ironically, it was the shoving that ended up pushing me to the front. I clung to the spot at the barricade I had been unwittingly maneuvered into, and waited quietly, a behavior which was pretty much unique. Across the driveway in which the bus had pulled up, there was a group of people with special passes standing in a roped-off section of the sidewalk. Of course, the skaters had an obligation to pay attention to them, which is as far as most of them went. But not all. Oksana Baiul was the first to come out. She signed for the pass-holders, but didn't even look at the group across the driveway--and I don't blame her. A number of young idiotic males were calling out rather rudely to her. It was really rather depressing, seeing this behavior, and it was little better for any of the other skaters. Surya Bonaly was the first to actually cross over and start signing the rabble's programs. She didn't get to the spot where I was. But Lloyd Eisler did. Actually, my program was literally taken from me and handed over to him! Isabelle Brasseur, Nancy Kerrigan, Dorothy Hamill, and Evgeny Platov, like Baiul, stayed on the other side of the driveway. Philippe Candeloro and Viktor Petrenko were two who came over, but didn't reach my area. Candeloro was the heartthrob of the crowd, complete with young girls grabbing and kissing him... yech. I didn't see much of Petrenko, but I'm told that after one firl gave him a kiss on the cheek, his reply was, "Thank you for the monkey." Oookay... whatever that meant, it's funny! Amazingly, two other skaters to come my way were Olympic gold medalists--the fourth and fifth I have encountered, if you count a high-five from Viktor Petrenko last year. They were Katarina Witt and Brian Boitano. The former disappeared pretty quickly, but Boitano hung around for a bit, which I'm told is rare of him. With a cap and sunglasses, he almost looked like he was still dressed for Wild Elephants, and I managed to snap a picture while he was signing for others. And Todd Eldredge did make an appearance--but he, too, had to deal with his obligation to the pass-holders. While he was signing autographs for them, his back was turned; I had to chuckle when I saw the words "bomb technician" on the back of his black T-shirt. He's seems to be developing quite a collection of shirts with funny slogans. Before disappearing behind the bus as he made his way down the line of pass-holders, Todd turned to look back at the crowd on the other side of the driveway, holding up an index finger as if to say "be with you shortly". However, Tom Collins was strutting around the area, and it was soon after that he started yelling at the skaters to get on the bus. And that was the end of that--Todd never did get a chance to come over. He never got the box of chocolates I'd intended to have given to him, either. My efforts to find an employee who could or would take it for him, several times before the bus took off, were met with shrugs and blank stares. Oh well, there's always next time. For this day, it was fun having a brush with a few more Olympic medalists, seeing some skaters I hadn't seen before, and watching those I had do something new.
|
