I was a very weird child.
I already told you about how I was a late bloomer for most things but that really is not even that half of it.
Back in the early 90’s, specifically 1994, I was obsessed.
Now, you are probably nodding your head because what young girl just beginning her teens, was not obsessed with all things pop culutre.
What young girl didn’t squeal with delight when ‘New Kids on the Block’ or ‘All 4 One’ came on the radio?
What young girl didn’t drool over Keanu Reeves in ‘Speed’?
And what young girl didn’t swoon when Zach Morris came on TV in ‘Saved by the Bell’?
Well, I will tell you what girl didn’t… me.
That’s right. When all my friends were going boy crazy and acting like idiots over the guys on TV, I was downstairs in my basement practicing doing triplet axles. You know, the super difficult jump that most Olympic women’s skater’s tried to land to ensure themselves a gold medal?!
I was certain that I was going to nail that jump and become a famous figure skater like my idol… Nancy Kerrigan.
Of course, I needed to try it on actual ice and probably learning how to actually ice skate would have been a good idea. But I continued to practice on the carpet and thought I was hot stuff when I did my jump turn in the air and landed on my feet keeping myself and all the furniture intact.
But no matter what, I was going to be a figure skater.
That’s right back in the early 90’s I was obsessed with figure skating. I couldn’t get enough of it and watched each competition religiously.
Well thankfully, there was a huge event that would take place in the winter of 1994 to feed my obsession… the winter Olympics. And my idol, Nancy Kerrigan was looking like she was going to take the gold.
I was so excited. I loved Nancy. I felt like her little sister and when I found out that her birthday was three days before mine, I knew that we were meant to be. I wrote her a letter and told her of my undying love for her and that we had almost the same birthday. She sent me an autographed photo and that photo became my prized possession.
In fact, that photo started my shrine to Nancy Kerrigan.
Much to my mom’s distaste, I took one of the walls of my bedroom and filled it floor to ceiling with photos of Nancy. Much like this collage only on a much, much larger scale.
I just loved to look at Nancy and dream of skating like her.
Then something terrible happened to my beautiful Nancy. She became the center of a terrible, terrible plot that tried to end her skating career. A jealous and evil skater had her husband and body guard whack Nancy’s knee to try and stop her from competing.
I was devastated. And when Nancy cried, “Why why why?! Why me?!” I cried it too. Oh, I hated Tonya Harding and what she did. I followed the news coverage of this story like a hawk. I made people save every single magazine and newspaper article about it. Why? So I could add more pictures to my bedroom wall.
Tonya was just so mean and I laughed when she cried because her boot lace got caught making her skate poorly in the Olympics and unable to complete her infamous triplet axle.
Oh stupid, Tonya. Your boot lace didn’t make you fail at figure skating, the fact that you are not Nancy Kerrigan did. She is the winner. And besides, figure skating is not hard, I can totally do it… in my basement on the carpet.
See, I told you I was obsessed and knew every detail.
Well the Olympics came and my beautiful Nancy Kerrigan didn’t do as well as everyone had hoped and won silver instead of gold. Then she mumbled some words about an other skater being too whinny, my mom made take down my ‘Wall o’ Nancy’, I found boys and that was the end of that.
But every now and again, I bust out one of my half carpet axles, usually fall and sprain my ankle, and remember what could have been. I was almost the next Nancy Kerrigan.
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