I’ll admit it: this past week was my first real foray into competitive figure skating.
Only later did it dawn on me — much to my regret — that I’d been blissfully unaware I was rubbing elbows with figure-skating luminaries like Olympian-turned-commentator Adam Rippon and Cordero Zuckerman, better known to fans as Denali Foxx of RuPaul’s Drag Race, whose breakout persona fuses drag and figure skating.
As with any assignment that drops me into an unfamiliar world — including an entirely unrelated stop at a national pigeon show this weekend — I approach my assignment with a deep sense of curiosity. When I meet someone new, I tend to pepper them with the same questions: What should a newcomer know? How long have you been doing this? What do you love most about it?
The skaters, staff, volunteers and fans were generous in indulging me. What I found was a community that is fiercely competitive — and deeply loving.
I watched Alysa Liu, Amber Glenn and Isabeau Levito crack jokes about keeping one another on their toes. I spoke with young St. Louis-area skaters who volunteered to haul away hundreds of pounds of stuffed animals tossed onto the ice after routines. I saw the entire figure-skating world rally behind Maxim Naumov, who competed — and medaled — at his first nationals since his parents were killed last year when an American Airlines regional jet collided with a U.S. Army Blackhawk helicopter over the Potomac River.
Despite being a big hockey fan, when I lace up skates I look more like a newborn giraffe attempting its first steps. These athletes operate on an entirely different level.
There were moments that stopped me cold: Sonja Hilmer’s women’s short program, choreographed to the sound of her blades slicing the ice; the undeniable personality Starr Andrews brought to every movement in her Beyoncé-laden program; and watching Ilia Malinin — the “Quad God” — in person, a skater truly in a league of his own.
But there was a job to do, so I fell back on what I know best: hunting for emotion, color, light and fleeting moments.
Though figure skating was new to me, it paralleled something I know intimately — the marching arts. I marched euphonium from middle school through college and played cymbals in my high school’s winter drumline. Like those activities, figure skating unfolds within a confined stage, bound by precision, pageantry and jaw-dropping costumes.
High-profile sporting events come with strict restrictions, which forces creativity. I squatted low by the ice. I hiked to the top of the stands. I waited for shapes to emerge as skaters flew through their routines and bobbed my head to Madonna as the rhythmic dance competition this year was set to a 90's theme.
This may be a humble offering from the week’s festivities, but I left with a genuine appreciation — and love — for the sport. I’ll definitely be watching this Olympic team take the ice in Milan at the 2026 Winter Olympics next month.
And, as it turns out, New York-based skater Oona Brown also plays snare drum in an Irish marching band — proof that sometimes worlds collide in unexpected ways.
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