I love figure skating. My childhood was full of attempts to copy Yuka Sato or Surya Bonaly before I was told — admittedly in the kindest way possible — that I would never be a professional figure skater. Since then, I’ve followed competitive figure skating casually for years. These past two years I’ve followed it more closely as ladies figure skating finally is having the same (admittedly obnoxious) discussion that the men have been having for years with quad jumps and whatever PCS means to the judges on that day.
As an aside, if anyone else wants to rant and rave about the “three As” (Alena Kostornaia, Anna Shcherbakova, Alexandra Trusova) and what they’ve brought to ladies skating over the past year, I’m on Twitter.
Before Yuri!!! On Ice ever aired, I watched director Sayo Yamamoto’s short, Endless Night, and wished for a figure skating series to come along some day.
Then Yuri!!! On Ice aired and it surpassed all of my expectations.
Crying, in North American professional sports, is mostly reserved for the winners. Athletes cry when they’re emotionally overwhelmed at a win, while the losing participants quickly depart, stoicism etched into their faces until they exit the public eye. In order to appear strong – particularly if one is an athlete in the spotlight, regardless of skill level – one must hide their emotions following a loss, as to not appear weak.
I personally disagree with the idea of crying equaling weakness, as crying is a good indicator of just how much one cares about what they are doing.