Why Am I Still Alive Pt. 15: The First Time I Met Katarina Witt

It was early days at the Lillehammer Olympics, and when we were not training or sleeping, we spent as much time as we could soaking up the energy of the Olympic village. Near the cafeteria were a few different viewing spaces with soft and cozy chairs, couches, and blankets where athletes could converge and watch the games on several big screens.

Several athletes had mentioned that 2X Gold medalist and striking East German figure skater Katarina Witt had been seen walking around the village. Beautiful as she was, she was also the nemesis of my good friend, freshman English class compatriot, and ice sheath training teammate Debbie Thomas, who had lost to her 4 years earlier in the “battle of the Carmens” - with both of them skating to the same music in the long program finale. Debbie and I had been at Stanford together, sharing classes and ice time. I was not of the “cult of Katarina.”

It was perhaps the second week at the games and I was relaxing on one of the chairs with a new friend - a figure skater from Detroit - my hometown. We talked a bit about our shared geography and then the screen lit up with the final rounds of the figure skating ice dance competition. Torville and Dean were about to begin and their program was exquisite. Everyone was in awe and even as I muttered, “no one can top that,” my figure skating friend said, “no, no the Russian pair will win. Even though it will not be as romantic as that dance, they edge much deeper and have a more technical program - they are going to win - trust me.” She then had to leave to go to her practice. 

Moments later someone else took over her chair, which was slightly to the right and in front of mine. She was wearing a baseball hat but had long hair spilling out the back. The scores of Torville and Dean were announced which were very good but definitely beatable. The woman to my right make a “tsk tsk” sound indicating her disapproval. 

Next up, Grishuk and Platov made their appearance. I had a crush on Oksana Grishuk (and we briefly dated after the games) so I was particularly interested in their final program. Overall it seemed very good but not as exciting as Torville and Dean. Nonetheless, when the scores came out - they had earned the gold medal. The woman beside me was horrified, cupping her hands to her mouth, “no, no, no!” She turned briefly and our eyes met. She seemed familiar. 

Waxing in my newly found figure skating expertise, I said, “well, actually Grishuk and Platov won on technical merit - their edging was a lot deeper than the English pair.”

Her eyes widened and then narrowed. She then whipped off her hat and stood up. “You’d think I would know!” And then the suddenly recognized her as Katarina Witt as she stomped off in a huff.