And you thought I was joking. Shame on you.
Those of you who glanced at the 'Prince' sports page on March 1 may have taken a gander at my scribbling about my outing with the taekwondo club team. In that article, apart from getting shown up by a girl half my size — no mean feat considering I'm five feet, seven-inches . . . okay, five feet, six inches tall — I also discovered my true calling: figure skating. I told you then that my next excursion would take me to the figure skating team.
So here I am.
Don't get me wrong — I loved taekwondo. It was physically demanding, and the team members were awesome. But let's be honest. I'm trying to get on the fast track to stardom, and I don't have that kind of time to limber up. I could always cut my tendons like Jean Claude Van Damme, but look where that got him. Sorry, Jean Claude, but seriously, "The Quest"? You can do better than that, buddy.
Anyway, with a little soul-searching, I found out figure skating and I have a lot in common.
In fact, unlike taekwondo, my family has a storied history with figure skating. No, none of us skate, but we used to watch it on TV.
In fact, my parents first bought cable for the sole purpose of watching the 1984 Winter Olympics in Sarajevo. They taped every single day of the competitions and particularly liked figure skating. The sport may have even influenced my parents' decision to adopt me. I was born in South Korea. The next Olympic games in 1988 were held in Seoul, South Korea.
Coincidence? I think not.
I never realized it, but maybe I was destined for figure skating all along. I used to rollerblade. The charm and dazzle that I use to get an extension on my JP can work equally well on crowds and judges. I've lived in New Jersey's wintry conditions for two and a half years, and if I can withstand — in my boxers — the massive amounts of snow we had two years ago, I can definitely last a couple of minutes on the ice in a leotard. And it's not really that big of a leap from living in an environment of pastel polos, Burberry scarves and madras jackets to a world of sequins and spandex.
After a few minutes on the ice, though, I quickly found out that it takes a little more effort than skimming Wai Wong's fashion articles to get into the figure skating business.
I borrowed some skates from one of the three seniors on the team, Amanda Mitchell, who informed me that they were brand new and that I was the first one to skate on them. No pressure, though.
I probably jinxed the next person who wears them. I'm going to read about it on ESPN. "17-year-old so-and-so was in the middle of a triple-lutz when the pair of skates she wore fell apart at the seams and the laces retied themselves around her legs, resulting in a fall that shattered both wrists and broke her collarbone. She also developed a mysterious case of poison ivy . . . " You get the picture.
With those thoughts running through my mind it was a little hard to concentrate, but with some expert advice, I was soon well on my way and comfortably going forward.
"The important thing is to keep your knees bent," senior co-president Liz Asch said. "Push off with the back leg and glide on the other. Try to find your balance on the balls of your feet. Very good!"
This skating thing was a piece of cake! Michelle Kwan, watch out.
Well, maybe not.
"Umm, how do you stop?" I asked.
"Use the toe pick."
Oh right, the toe pick.
What the heck is a toe pick? It sounds too close to a toothpick to stop a 170-pound, er, 160-pound guy from stopping.
The toe pick, I found out, is that little ridge at the toe of the skate. It was a little weird getting used to stopping with the front of the foot as opposed to the heel of the skate as in hockey skates and rollerblades. The first time I used it, I ended up turning around and facing backwards with my arms making a windmill motion like Wily Coyote when that darned Roadrunner pulls the cliff from under him. The image didn't comfort me in the least.
No, I didn't fall, so don't get your hopes up for a big picture of me falling on my ass. Believe me, my editor is even more disappointed than you are.
"Very good," the skaters said. "You're a step ahead of us. You need to go backwards to learn how to do the more complicated jumps."
More complicated jumps? There's more than one?
Apparently, there are seven basic jumps: waltz, salchow, toe, lutz, loop, flip and axel. Each jump has a different takeoff, and however many revolutions you do in the air determines whether you call it a single, double, triple or quadruple jump.
I was beginning to worry about how complicated all this sounded. On top of learning jumps, there are also spins: the camel, the scratch, the layback and the sit. And there are also things like the three-turn, the spiral and the Mohawk.
I don't remember that guy in "The Cutting Edge" having to learn all this. Suddenly, I began to wonder if figure skating was going to be my fast track to stardom after all.
Exactly, how old were all these skaters, I wondered, when they started skating? Was I too old to start figure skating? How long until I was ready? Would I make it in time for the next winter Olymics?
"When was the first time you ice-skated?" I casually asked one of them.
"Fourteen," she said.
"Oh," I said with some disappointment. Oh well, three or four years isn't too bad. I could make it to the 2010 Winter games with time to spare.
"Fourteen years ago," she clarified.
"I was six years old when I started," another skater cheerfully added. "I began skating on a pond in my backyard."
You know, I began to think, maybe figure skating isn't that great. I really don't like ice all that much. Do I really want to get my legs clubbed like Nancy Kerrigan? No thank you — though boxing Tonya Harding could be fun. And the leotards? Please.
Then again, just because I'm not going to make a career of it didn't mean I couldn't have some fun. After watching sophomore co-president Maria Beylin go through one of her routines in preparation for the team's performance this weekend — April 1 and 2 at Baker Rink — I had my pen out for an autograph. At least one of us might get to see Michelle Kwan some day.
Besides, Beylin wasn't giving up on me yet. Toward the end of our session, she grabbed my hands, skated backward and towed me around the rink.
Suddenly, I realized I'd found my niche — I could do doubles. Looking around the rink, I realized I was the only guy on the ice. Heck, they need me!
Who needs Michelle Kwan when the next Asian Sensation — five feet, six inches of dead sexy — is right here in Princeton?
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