I believe I mentioned in a previous post that my parents love figure skating.
So much so that they bought tickets to Skate Canada that was held in town recently. They bought the event package which meant that they could go to all the events. There was a gala performance on the final night that they weren't interested in seeing, so they offered the tickets to me so that I could take my daughter, who they thought might be interested. She was...so off we went.
I have to admit that going in I was quite jaded. I thought this was going to be a stupid night with a lot of stupid skating with a bunch of stupid skating fans. This is maybe not the kindest way of approaching a free night out...but I'm just being honest here.
My daughter was quite excited and so I was looking forward to spending some time with her but really I probably would have rather gouged my eyes out with a melon-baller than go to a skating show.
We got there early on the advice of my parents who are sometimes parking-phobic. We sat down in our seats and started to have a good look around.
The first thing that I noticed were the two women sitting in the row ahead of us. They had matching outfits. On top were red and white wind jackets. You know the ones...I bet your PE teacher wore one...they make a very special sound when you move around. "Swish swish. I volunteered at the Commonwealth Games in 1994!", they seem to say. These jackets had multiple autographs from skating stars, collected over the years. These jackets were set off by matching red swishy pants. These would be overwhelmingly awesome all by themselves, but in addition they were wearing great big huge red and white felt hats. Again, I really believe that the hat on it's own would have enough impact...but it wasn't enough for these two. They had crocheted ice skates dangling from various spots all over their hats. It was truly a sight to behold. And they certainly looked like they had lived in those seats for the entire week. They had bags and bags of paraphernalia. They had signs...they had special ear phones so that they could hear the "play by play"...they had the programs all organized in a plastic bag. They had this down to a science.
The ladies behind us also had matching outfits. Theirs were less 90's but just as eye catching. Pins for dozens of skating events were all over their sunshine yellow jackets. They also looked well-ensconced in their seats...and looked fairly pro at this type of thing. I was feeling like we stuck out like a sore thumb.
Eventually the lights dimmed and I thought "oh great...here we go" [with sarcasm] We sat as one after another, people came out and skated around...like they seem to do at these things.
To be honest, at the beginning I was sitting with my arms crossed...not going to enjoy this even if you paid me. I was there strictly in a chaperoning capacity...certainly not as a fan. But as the evening dragged on something happened deep within me. I found myself clapping a little more enthusiastically than before. I realized that I was holding my breath just a little bit as they sped up to do their next jump. I leapt to my feet with everyone else as they gave a standing ovation when the performance was done. I was turning into one of them. Somehow they had rubbed off on me. Somehow I felt like I should be wearing a wind suit. I even wondered where you might buy one...and if they would have matching adult and child sizes so that the whole family could have them. Dear God...what had happened to me!
Instead of fighting these sensations, I just let go and gave into them. "Did you see that triple lutz! That was an amazing double salchow! Oh look how pretty that dress is with all the ribbons! Hoorah for that lovely death spiral!"
As we sat in the living room once we were home, and recapped the event for my husband I knew that life could never be the same. I found myself going on and on about how sparkely the dresses were...and how amazing the young boy who was now the Canadian Junior Champion was...and just the sheer length of this conversation proved to me that even the most ardent doubter could somehow be swayed. There is something about figure skating that can not, and will not be denied.
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