Weather | Sports | Forums | Comics | Classifieds | Calendar | Movies
© St. Petersburg Times, published February 20, 2002
SALT LAKE CITY -- Think of it as a delicatessen. Michelle Kwan has been waiting in line for a long time. It's time her number was called.
Think of it as a law firm. Kwan is the senior partner. The others are just going to have to pay their dues.
Think of it as a graduating class. Kwan is the valedictorian. She's supposed to be on stage while everyone else applauds.
Or, you can think of it as life.
Where no one wants to wait for anything.
Enter Sasha Cohen, who straps on skates with the elegance of a figure skater and the heart of a hockey player. Given the opportunity, you figure she would have this to say about the wonder that is Kwan.
Move over, lady.
Now.
When the women's figure skating began Tuesday night at the Salt Lake Ice Center, there were two ways to look at the competition. The first is that it is Michelle Kwan's time. The second is to look impatient and to tap on your watch.
Kwan was as terrific as you might have expected, scoring all 5.9s in her presentation. She's in first place going into Thursday night's long program, just ahead of Russian rival Irina Slutskaya.
But, gee. Who is that in the passing lane?
And why does she seem so impatient?
When you talk of the competition to come, don't forget about Cohen, the skater with the attitude that, if it takes it, she'll shove Kwan from the top podium on the stand. You know, the way Tara Lipinski did four years ago.
Kids today.
They don't want to wait for anything.
That was obvious early, when Cohen finished third, establishing herself to be clearly in the hunt. It was a clean, accomplished program, and only the fact it was sixth in the lineup kept the scores from being higher. Another American, Sarah Hughes, is fourth, and also has a shot at medaling.
"It was the moment I've waited for my whole life," Cohen said. "All my nervousness was off the ice. There were no butterflies. When I'm on the ice, I'm in control."
Yeah.
And anyone who disagrees gets hit in the mouth.
She doesn't look so tough, to tell you the truth. She is 17 years old, and she stands 4 feet 11, and she weighs about as much as a Fig Newton. Watch her on the ice, and she is all grace and fluid motion. See her off the ice, and you'll wonder which episode of Dawson's Creek you saw her in. For goodness' sake, she named her cat Meow. How rugged can she be?
Don't be fooled, though. There is a little bit of grit to Cohen. She is part ballerina, part bully. If you're going to call Cohen a princess, by golly, you better insert the word "warrior" in front. There is some fire on her ice.
"We're like gladiators," Kwan suggested.
That seemed to be the general theme. Slutskaya, too, suggested she was ready to fight. No one is sure about the medalists yet, but with all the talk about fisticuffs, Laila Ali seems like a contender.
The gladiator suggestion probably sounds good to Cohen, who has been known to unleash a little heck herself. The tales of Cohen arguing with her coach, John Nicks, are legendary. He pushes, she pulls. He instructs, she destructs. He drives her toward excellence, she drives him crazy. She speaks her mind about the music, the program, about the color of the sky.
She is, as they say, difficult. She is, as they say, opinionated. She is, as they say, loud.
Then, there was the practice at the U.S. Nationals in January, where Cohen failed to recognize Kwan's airspace. Twice, she almost collided with Kwan, and there was a suspicion it wasn't altogether accidental. It was more like a fastball across the chin, a message that no one was moving out of the way for Michelle Kwan's close-up.
Cohen calls such talk silly. Kwan still doesn't seem sure.
When you're talking about mind games, isn't that the point?
Tuesday, Cohen sent another message. All this talk about Kwan vs. Slutskaya might be leaving one skater out. There is a presence to Cohen, an air that she is no one's apprentice, no one's heir. She's a contender. Now. You want to mix it up with her, you better bring a lunch.
Cohen is in a sport where almost nobody breaks in line. She is supposed to be patient, isn't she? She is supposed to be introducing herself, isn't she? She is supposed to nod and smile and wave and act like Miss Congeniality as Kwan gets her close-up.
Cohen would argue with you about that, too. And good for her. Bless her little competitive, argumentative heart. As long as you're going somewhere, what's wrong with being in a hurry?
If you wish to know just how serious Cohen is about medaling here, consider not what was in her program, but what was left out. For months, Cohen had talked of her goal of becoming the first woman to land a quad in competition. She has left that jump out, however. She'd rather have a medal.
Does she have a shot? Maybe not. Kwan was awfully good herself, as if she were reminding the rest of the field that this is her sport, her country, her moment. She has a little fight to her, too.
"It's like a race now," Kwan suggested. "You've got to go and get it."
Kwan is in the driver's seat, all right. If she is that dazzling again in the long program, no one else has a shot. Even Nicks has suggested that to win, Cohen doesn't have to be a tad better, but as much as 10 percent better. That's asking a lot.
But slow a little, and Cohen could catch her.
Slip a little, and she could pass her.