The Vancouver Winter Olympics started last week, on February 12. The day before “церемонии открытия” [the opening ceremony], “премьер-министр Владимир Путин” [Prime Minister Vladimir Putin] addressed the athletes, giving them a combination of pep talk and partying words known in Russian as “напутствие” (lit.: for the road):

Мы все с нетерпением ждём стартов и ждём ваших результатов. Мы прекрасно отдаём себе отчёт в том, в каком психологическом состоянии находится наша олимпийская сборная, мы уверены, что вы справитесь со всеми эмоциональными трудностями, всё преодолеете и добьётесь больших успехов”, – сказал в четверг премьер, обращаясь к спортсменам во время телемоста из информцентра “Сочи-2014″ с “Русским домом” в Ванкувере.”

[Impatiently we are waiting for the starts and for your results. We are fully aware of the psychological condition our Olympic team is in; we are confident that you will successfully deal with all the emotional difficulties, overcome it all and achieve great success” – said the Prime Minister on Thursday, addressing athletes during the live link-up between the info-center Sochi-2014 and Russian House in Vancouver.]

Now, unlike my mom – a hard-core figure-skating fan – I don’t follow the ups-and-downs of this sport very closely. But the reference to the emotional difficulties left me wondering. With a little bit of digging around, I zoomed in on “скандал с Плющенко” [scandal involving/around Plushenko], the 6-time European figure-skating champion.

You’d think that with 15 winter sports, the Prime-minister would not concentrate so hard on the figure-skating issues. But I’m going to draw on my own experience growing up in Russia to say that many Russians consider “фигурное катание” [figure skating] a big part of their national identity.

“Керлинг” [curling] might have a few fans in Russia; and “бобслей и санный спорт” [bobsleigh and skeleton] attract a small, but loyal following. But while much attention is given to “биатлон” [biathlon], “лыжные гонки” [cross-country skiing], and “конькобежный спорт” [speed skating], the heart and soul of Russian Olympics experience is figure skating. Even “хоккей” [hockey] doesn’t hold a candle to it.

When I was growing up in Russia, for a month or two surrounding the Winter Olympics (or a European Figure Skating Championship), every single girl and some boys in the neighborhood wanted to be figure skating champs. There was only one “закрытый каток” [covered ice-skating rink] in our city and it was mostly closed to the public. The very few “открытые катки” [open-air ice-skating rinks] were “забиты битком” [overcrowded] and we had to wait in line for skates forever.

And in the evenings, we’d go home, turn on our 2-channel black-and-white TVs (hey, my family had a B&W TV well into the 90’s) and watch the famous skaters perform. Over some hot “чай” [tea] with “сухарики” [hard tea biscuits akin to Melba toast], we held our breaths as skaters were approaching their jumps or performing some particularly complicated footwork. Every fall or stumble was accompanied by our collective “ох!” and “эх!” And a well-executed performance was rewarded with “во дает!” [would you look at that!] and “молодец!” [atta boy]. And then we all tried to guess the marks skaters would get from each judge.

In our hearts we knew that “наши” [our] skaters were the best. It was the fundamental truth that required no further proof. Even when our skaters didn’t win the gold medal or (rarely) any medals at all, it did not diminish their skills or “превосходство” [dominancy] on ice, not in our eyes, not long-term. 

At the same time this knowledge gave us piece of mind and lots of goodwill towards foreign skaters. In retrospect, it was kind of “снисходительно” [condescending] to think that their wins were accidental and short-term (even if they were to become 6-time European Champions, like Surya Bonali), primarily technique-based with little in the way of “хореографии” [choreography] or “душевности” [soulfulness].

But in the end, the one part of the Olympics figure skating program we looked forward to the most was “показательные выступления” [the Exhibition Gala] – no competition, no judges,  no marks.

So this year, on February 27, I will brew me a pot of strong black tea, put some “сухарики” biscuits on a plate, and enjoy the Gala. Then, on February 28, I’ll be stopping by my local ice-skating rink that offers adult beginner classes and, back at home, re-naming my piggy-bank savings project “Сочи-2014” [Sochi 2014].