Amy Shipley
December 26,1997
Father, Son Prepare fo a Leap of Faith
"I get goose bumps on this one," Greg Weiss said, not turning his head. "Here comes a quad."
With Beethoven booming over the loudspeaker, Micheal Weiss took off on the chillingly difficult jump he had been practicing---a quadruple Lutz, which has never been executed in competition by any skater. He over-rotated slightly, brushing the ice with his right foot, but he nevertheless landed the jump. Greg Weiss opened like a clenched fist. He yelled a short "Yeah!" and hopped up and down, clapping his hands together hard and fast. Suddenly, he stopped, as if trying to gather himself. "I shouldn't do that," he said of his outburst, "but how in the hell am I going to stop?"
As fans go, Micheal Weiss, 21, has no bigger one than his father, and perhaps none more vociferous. Father and son are unique teammates on this Olympic quest, a journey they have embarked upon from very different starting points. While Weiss seeks his first Olympic Games, his father envisions a return.
A graduate of W.T. Woodson High School, Micheal Weiss is considered the second best male figure skater in the United States behind longtime star Todd Eldredge, who edged Weiss in the 1997 national championships. Eldredge is the favorite to win his fifth U.S. title at the 1998 chamipionships Jan. 4-11 in Philadelphia. A second place or better for Weiss would likely earn him one of the United States's two men's singles spots. At the nationals, Weiss will once again attempt the quadruple Lutz, which he tried but failed to land in Germany the fall.
Greg Weiss, a former full scholarship gymnast at Penn State who was named the university's athlete of the year in 1962, sometimes cres after watching his son skate. A tightly muscled, firm-jawed man, Greg Weiss reaches every inch of his 5-foot-6 frame with his perfect, ex-gymnast posture. His apperance is defined by rigidity, yet his emotions fly as if at the end of a lasso, closing around the objects of his devotion.
Greg Weiss, 56, points out that his son still kisses him on the cheek when saying goodbye. And Micheal Weiss still say "Love ya, Dad," before hanging up the phone. "What's more important when it's all over?" Greg said. "Medal or no medal I still want him to be my best friend."
On a recent afternoon, as Michael Weiss entertained reporters' questions at a round-table news conference, Greg Weiss burst occasionally into the conversation, leaning his considerable forearms on the table and letting his opinions spew.
"I hate to keep jumping in here," Greg Weiss said. "But I'm proud of the guy, and I sort of half know what's going on."
After Greg Weiss talked at length about the difficulty and grace in his son's rouitnes, Micheal Weiss smiled and said: "He's definitely my dad."
"He wanted me to choose what I wanted to do, to make my own decisions," he added later, his father well out of earshot this time. "He left a lot of ot up to my coaches....Now that I've gotten older, he's been sitting in the background so muck, I have looked to him more in terms of mental things. If I'm having a bad session, he comes over and just says the right thing to me.
"He's somebody who is 100% positive all of the time. I've never heard anything negative out of his mouth....All he does is rave about me....If a father of a kid can't act that way, the who can?"
After the 1964 O;ympic Games, Greg Weiss returned to his home town of Pidgefield, N.J., with a thirty-something place finish in gymnastics and a genuine Olympic flag. Greg's proud father, Richard took the flag and ran it up the flag pole in the front of the house. It waved next to the 5 Olympic rings that Greg's machinist father had fashioned out of and ordinary weather vane.
Everyday for about six months, Greg recalls, his father raised that flag and displayed the weather vane on the roof. He also put together a thick scrapbook of newspaper clippings and photos. And ge did one more thing: Greg Weiss's father, who died in 1988, orgainized a Greg Weiss Day in Ridgefield.
"All that says to me," said Greg Weiss, "is the guy just loved me."
It also influenced how Weiss relates to his own children and their athletic endeavors. When Micheal or his sisters, Genna 25, or Geremi, 24, competed in junior level competitions in figure skating or other sports years ago, the Weiss family nearly always left the venues before the sores were posted. Only later would they learn the results.
To this day, thereis not a single trophy or medal prominently displayed in the Weiss home in Fairfax, a remarkable thing cinsiderinf that, besides the accomplishments of Michael an and Greg Weiss, Genna was a junior world diving champion and Geremi a junior ladies national champion in figure skating. Greg Weiss and his wife, Margie, own and operate two Gold's Gyms in Fairfax. They have avoided active involvement in coaching their children. In Michael Weiss's case, they left that work to Audrey Weisiger, who has coached their son for years.
"I wanted to be his daddy, not his coach," Greg Weiss said. "Daddies are more important than coaches."
Greg Weis still has his 1964 Olympoc flag. It is wrapped up un the bottom drawer of his dresser, protected by mothballs. He also has saved his red, white, and blue team USA sweatsuit, and it, too, is wrapped up in his bottom drawer. Micheal Weiss has never seen them.
"If he makes the team, it would be so cool for him, 35 years later, to be wearing his daddy's sweats," said Greg Weiss, as he put his right hand accross his heart as the image bloomed in his mind.
"That would be so cool."
