interview with Tai Babilonia
Vick444
Former champion figure skater worries about the pressure on today's
ice icons
http://www.mailtribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20081221/NEWS/812210335
I sorta figured we'd bond during our hour at The RRRink Tuesday
afternoon. After all, Tai Babilonia and I have so much in common.
Babilonia and her former partner, Randy Gardner, have performed
together for four decades. Among their accolades are five-time U.S.
National pairs figure skating champion medals.
I have, er, skated.
Babilonia spent countless hours on the hard cold ice, mastering the
spins, jumps and lifts necessary to propel herself to international
stardom.
I, after a dozen lessons or more, finally learned to skate forward. I
like to think Dick Button would have been proud.
Babilonia personifies grace and joy when she skates. It's like she
exited the womb ready to perform an Arabian cartwheel.
After several more lessons, I added reverse to my repertoire. It
happened the day my Dorothy Hamill-look-alike skating instructor
grabbed my hand and took off, hauling my protesting fanny across the
ice at breakneck speed. Backwards.
"Commit to doing it," she barked. "Sit back onto your skates, and use
your edges."
The woman had a grip like a gator so I followed her commands. And the
world became an exhilarating blur.
Although it's hard to believe, Babilonia confided that her initial
foray onto the ice was not exactly the stuff of legend. In fact, she
hated skating — at first.
"It was cold and it smelled. And I fell all over the place," she said,
laughing.
Peggy Fleming was young Babilonia's idol. Watching the raven-haired
icon gracefully twirl and glide her way to Olympic gold in 1968 in
Grenoble, France, fueled her dreams.
"Peggy Fleming is the reason I started skating," she said.
Aha! Another connection. My sixth-grade teacher was friends with
Fleming. In 1969 he persuaded her to visit Linda Vista Elementary
School and bestow cardboard Olympic medals upon us kiddos for our pre-
pubescent efforts at long-jumping, 50-yard-dashing and softball
throwing. My dad is standing next to the lovely Olympian in every
photo. I guess going gaga over skaters runs in the family.
Personally, I always saw pairs as the way to go. A partner gives you
someone to trust. Someone to share the experiences. Someone to land on
when you fall.
Tai and Randy paired up when they were 8 and 10 years old
respectively. I was pushing 20 before I managed to lure my brother
onto the ice. Dave was still dealing with the dreaded ankle wobble
when a hockey twerp opined that my decade-older sibling was risking
serious injury.
"You're too old to be out here, Mister. You're gonna fall and break
your butt," the kid said.
My pairs dreams dashed, I soon left the rink for good. But not before
I fell and broke my wrist attempting the world's most elegant spiral.
Drat those toepicks.
Babilonia was not so clumsy. Nor so easily deterred. Once she stepped
back onto the ice, she made a commitment to go for it.
"My parents never pressured me," she said. "If anyone put the pressure
on, it was me."
We talked about pressure that day. The pressure to be perfect, spin
faster, jump higher - and its effects. Babilonia was loathe to trash-
talk the sport she loves. But she's concerned about the ever-
increasing level of athleticism demanded of young athletes.
"I see their faces, and it doesn't look like they're enjoying
themselves as much. It feels like some of the love has been squeezed
out of it. I hope it changes," she said.
In 1980 she and Gardner faced the sudden collapse of their Olympic
dreams. Jim McKay relayed the bad news about Gardner's groin injury to
the world. They became "The Heartbreak Kids."
Regrets? Yes, of course. Recriminations? Nope. Not a one. She
supported her partner. Later, Gardner stood fast as Babilonia
struggled with substance abuse.
"That's a true friend," she said simply.
After decades of dealing with Hollywood's who's-hot-who's-not games,
Babilonia loves living in Ashland with her fiance, comedian David
Brenner.
"It's exactly what the doctor ordered," she said.
She confessed to a case of nerves over approaching the Mail Tribune
regarding her support of local ice skating clubs. Maybe we'd figure
she was old news, Babilonia said.
"I really wasn't expecting to be embraced," she said with a shy smile.
At 49, Babilonia still projects a sweet vulnerability. No diva drama.
When I mistakenly placed her famous Olympic experience in Atlanta
instead of Lake Placid in a Wednesday story, she responded to my red-
faced apology with humor and grace. Classy. That outshines a gold
medal any day.