Coaching legends prepare to share their wisdom in Winnipeg

The National Coaches’ Conference in Winnipeg May 27 to 30 for both coaches and officials will offer a hint of just how Canadians are taking the lead in all pressing questions relating to skating.

Held as part of Skate Canada’s Annual Convention General Meeting (ACGM), this year’s theme “Partners in Progress” promises to offer an excellent range of workshops and social networking opportunities to the participants – Skate Canada coaches, officials, and international coaches as well.  As a result of Skate Canada changing their bylaws, NCCP certified Skate Canada coaches will become full voting members of the association for the very first time, which marks the importance of the voice of coaches.

“Skate Canada is really working on the coaching and I think that is so key,” says Tracy Wilson, slated to give two skating skills workshops at the conference. “It’s such a resource and we share information because we all have our fields of expertise and when we come together and share, we all benefit.”

Skate Canada has identified partnerships as the glue that binds together all of their strategic imperatives to 2018. One of those partnerships is with Hockey Canada to bring the joy of skating to all Canadians. Guest speaker at the NCC opening dinner is Melody (call her Mel) Davidson, coach of the women’s hockey team that won gold at the 2006 and 2010 Olympics. She’s a builder of her sport, which now emphasizes speed and skill so much.

Speaking of partnerships, the 2015 ACGM/NCC will also feature Kaitlyn Weaver and Andrew Poje and Olympic women’s hockey team gold medalist Meaghan Mikkelson, who also teamed up with hockey colleague Natalie Spooner to win seven legs of The Amazing Race Canada during the show’s second season.

Yes, a big field is opening up to skating, with its well organized skills system, especially with the new CanSkate program, which teaches  learn-to-skate skills   to youngsters who may become speed skaters or hockey players, or ringette players or adults who skate for the love of it.

At the conference, Wilson will go through many of the exercises she has used and developed over the years, starting with her work as an Olympic medalist in ice dancing with Rob McCall, her work with hockey players, and finally with international skaters such as Olympic champions Xue Shen and Hongbo Zhao, Yu Na Kim, and Yuzuru Hanyu and European champ Javier Fernandez. She and coach Brian Orser have both “honed in on what works to help different skaters,” she said. Her first workshop will show basic skills and exercises (“It’s everything that everybody knows but with a different slant,” she says) and the next class is about how to develop them.

The conference is packed with other gems: renowned Winnipeg sports psychologist Dr. Cal Botterill will speak about how to prevent burnout and “under-recovery” in athletes and coaches; sport headliners Sally Rehorick, Dr. Jane Moran and Monica Lockie will probe the burning problem of troublesome boots and blades; and judge Karen Howard will expound on what the referee says to the panel before an event (information coaches don’t want to miss!). Dr. William Bridel offers up chats about currently hot topics of bullying in sport and pain and injury from a socio-cultural perspective; Donna King and Lockie will preview the next chapter of the CanSkate juggernaut with new materials, resources and activities; and choreographer Mark Pillay will present on-and-off-ice workshops on musicality (and as an extra treat, his pupil Liam Firus will show off his new programs for 2015-2016.).

Rehorick and friends have already been busy behind the scenes conducting an informal six-month investigation into the effects of boot and blade selection on the performance of skaters at all levels and will try to propose the next steps toward research and education.

Rehorick has spoken with coaches, doctors, parents, researchers, skate technicians, distributors, team leaders and administrators about the problem. Sadly, she’s seen skaters at the Learn-to-Train and Learn-to-Compete levels struggling with boots that “seemed to control the skater, rather than the other way around.” The problem is a world-wide one. The ISU has been studying it through medical commission chair Dr. Moran, a Canadian.

Dr. Bridel, a former Skate Canada employee and now a professor at the University of Calgary’s department of kinesiology, will discuss preventive measures with bullying issues, rather than reactive strategies and how kids are exposed to bullying in the larger sociocultural context. He sees bullying becoming more of a problem because of social media. He’s also involved with a bystander intervention group at the university.

He also describes a culture that prevents skaters from revealing an injury, so that they don’t get help when they need it. Again, prevention is the key.

Dr. Botterill’s chat will be vital. “Under-recovery is kind of like an epidemic,” he says. “In high performance fields, people are pushing the envelope so hard, life in this era has so many distractions, and people aren’t recovering in the way they need to.”

Over the past 15 years of his 40-year career, most of Dr. Botterill’s work has been focused on helping people get rest and regain their health – and performance levels. Technology is addictive, he warns. He believes a high percentage of people are burned out and don’t even know it.

Last year, the National Coaches’ Conference reached a height of 275 registrants. And oh yes, names like Olympic cyclist Tanya Dubnicoff, now an executive coach, synchronized skating coach Shelley Barnett, and others such as Manon Perron, Lee Barkell, and Skate Canada’s Coaching Development Committee members such as Laurene Collin-Knoblauch, Raoul Leblanc, Paul MacIntosh, Pascal Denis, Keegan Murphy, Mary-Liz Wiley, Megan Svistovski, and Chris Stokes  will unleash their wisdom in workshops, too.

Have you booked your trip yet?

Strong Canadian Bond between Duhamel/Radford and Weaver/Poje heading into the World Championships

Fate and destiny have bought Canada’s top two upwardly mobile duos to much the same place, on the same path, so much so, it’s almost chilling to behold.

Never have Canadian doublets been in such step as pair skaters Meagan Duhamel and Eric Radford and their ice dancing counterparts Kaitlyn Weaver and Andrew Poje.

At every bend this season, they have been matching steps to the ISU World Figure Skating Championships where both are favoured to win gold. And it would be a first if they did. Although Canadian skaters have won double-gold at world championships before (Donald Jackson and Maria and Otto Jelinek in 1962, Kurt Browning and Isabelle Brasseur and Lloyd Eisler in 1993, and Patrick Chan and Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir in 2012), it’s never happened to two Canadian twosomes.

Partway through the season, both noticed the similarity of their journeys. “After the NHK Trophy, we had both won the event, and we looked at each other and said: ‘Wait a second. We’re the exact same right now. We’re three for three;” Weaver said.

Last fall, Duhamel and Radford and Weaver and Poje both scored victories in early season internationals in Barrie, Ont. and Obertsdorf, Germany for win No. 1. Afterwards, they never competed apart. They were assigned to the same Grand Prix events, and swept them all. Then they both won gold at the Grand Prix Final (four for four); gold at the Canadian championships (five for five); then gold at the Four Continents Championships (six for six.). In Shanghai, China next week, they’ll go for seven, a lucky number that signifies divine perfection, completeness, something that is finished.

Both didn’t have their best Olympics in Sochi last February. Both realized that they had to do their jobs on their own terms, for the joy of it. Not training in a relaxed way (“We’re exhausted after every practice,” Weaver said), but shutting out the distractions of opinion and result.

“We both feel the same pressure,” Weaver said. “To have someone else to share that with, not only with your partner, but another team altogether, has been really fun and enlightening.”

“I feel like we are sharing this special journey with them,” said Duhamel, who will room with Weaver in Shanghai. “I think we share a really special energy between the four of us.”

In Barcelona, Duhamel and Weaver started a tradition together: finding a yoga class when they first get to an event. The texts fly back and forth. Last Monday, Weaver texted Duhamel: “Last Monday of the regular season of training!”

“Yay,” Duhamel said in return. “She’s always checking up on me to see how things are going.”

They find that they share the same feelings, the same trouble getting their feet under them after a trip, the same jetlag, the same ease that things have settled back to normal at the same time. “Every time she texts me about something, we’re both feeling the same way, or our energies are the same,” Duhamel said.

Ditto for Radford and Poje, who roomed together in Barcelona. “At every competition, I think there is an unspoken connection and feeling because we’re both in the exact same situation,” Radford said. “And it’s comforting and nice to know in those really high intense moments of pressure, when you’re feeling nervous, we have teammates that are in the exact same situation. And they are still alive. And they survived. And they are doing an amazing job. It gives us confidence to know we are going through the same situation with some of our best friends.”

It’s not as if they are forged from the same pieces of clay. They are in different disciplines for Pete’s sake: pairs with their fearlessness, ice dancers with their twizzles and emotion. They have decidedly different personalities, all of them.

“What’s neat is that you get to see how someone else handles the situation,” Weaver said. “I really admire Meagan’s tenacity and I love her aggressiveness when she skates. So we can learn from each other in that way.”

If Weaver and Poje arrive to the rink after a pair practice, they’ll ask how Duhamel and Radford fared. They’ll say (so many times this year): “Awesome!”

“And you know what? We can have awesome practices, too,” Weaver said. “They are very confident and we feed off each other in that way. I think we are all very different personalities, but we are able to come together and know that we are all feeling the same thing.”

Case in point: In Barcelona both wanted to do so well and Duhamel was feeling butterflies about it all. Weaver advised her that they do the same program every time, the same quads, the same twizzles, the same lifts. Nothing changes from one competition to another. “We both really kind of hung onto that,” Weaver said. “We have that little reminder for each other every time we go out.” They both won gold at the Grand Prix Final – quite decisively.

And what if they both were to win in Shanghai? The thought gives Weaver chills up her sparkly arm.

“It would be monumental for sure,” Poje said. “It would be such a powerful message for Canada to be able to display those two champions. We both have to go out there and do our jobs and make sure that we put everything we can out there.

“But it’s a wonderful picture to think about and to be able to share the same memories and the same moment with them, coming from the same country and hearing the same anthem. It would be amazing.”

Weaver says she rarely misses watching Duhamel and Radford skate, at least for the long program. She thinks she’s seen them five out of six times, perhaps all of them. “I’m very proud to witness their growth and the incredible strides that they have made as a team, especially with that long, which is gorgeous,” she said.

And what if there is an incredible double-barrelled win, two golds for two teams?

“It would mean a lot of champagne for Team Canada,” Weaver said.

Synchronized Skating – Tracing Back

Compared to other skating disciplines that have been around for nearly 150 years, synchro is the new kid on the block.

Historically, as early as 1838, there are references to something in England called “combined figure skating” practiced at the Oxford Skating Society, but after that, reports of organized group skating dry up. Over a century would pass until the 1950s in Ann Arbor, Michigan, when the sport would get its first foot-hold as an official skating pursuit in North America.

It was called “precision skating”.

Les Supremes. 2003.The activity began rather innocently as a fun hobby in which more recreationally-based athletes could concentrate their efforts on team skating, groups of skaters performing moves in unison across the ice. Initially those performances were full of cutesy moves … toe tapping, hand clapping and hip slapping … more attuned to glitzy show biz than to quality skating.

But all of that was about to change. As experts began to recognize the young sport’s potential for promoting good skating in a new and different form, precision skating started to get some well-deserved attention.

Up until then, outside of tests up to the gold level, there were few places for non-traditional competitors to go, no competitive arena to build those skills that helped promote goal-setting, perseverance, creativity and artistry. If you weren’t in the elite competitive stream, skating was a dead end for many participants. With precision skating, suddenly there were new opportunities to advance, bringing fresh life to the sport and welcoming a whole new community of individuals, including athletes, coaches, officials and volunteers.

During the 1960s the sport spread in popularity in Canada and the US bringing with it competition and new ideas. It was an exciting time of growth and rapid development when teams were pushing precision skating boundaries by performing more creative and innovative routines. Gradually, focus on the types of choreographic content was evolving too, identifying and discarding more clichéd moves in favour of adding difficulty and skill … in other words … with the goal to develop quality skating.

Synchronized Skaters Podium.

Finally in 1977, the Ilderton Winter Club in Western Ontario hosted the first ever Canadian Invitational Precision Skating Competition and in 1983, next door in London, the first sanctioned National Precision Skating Championships were held. Overall, there were 60 teams registered to compete … 22 teams made it to the finals. Just one year later, the U.S. followed Canada’s lead and established its own National Precision Skating Championships.

By the end of the ‘80s, Canada was dominant on the international stage sweeping the podium in the senior category at the first international precision skating competition in Sweden. With such remarkable success and the resulting international attention, more and more enthusiasts were interested in joining the blossoming precision movement.

Black Ice. Synchronized skating team. 2000.Precision skating was becoming the rage! As a result, countries had to move fast to expand membership, develop more categories for a greater variety of participation and agree on clearly defined rules and standards of competition.

Despite the growth in Canada and the US, it would take the International Skating Union (ISU) another decade to recognize precision skating as an official discipline of figure skating and in 1994 to sanction international competitions. Back here at home in 1995, Canada hosted its first ever ISU international precision skating event, the Precision Canada International in Toronto.

Perhaps the biggest change came off the ice a few years later in 1998 when the sport officially changed its name to “synchronized skating” to adopt more internationally understood terminology. After that, growth was so fast around the world that just two years later in 2000 at the very first official ISU World Synchronized Skating Championships in Minneapolis, Minnesota, there were 21 teams competing from 17 countries. Canada’s team, black ice, made history by winning the silver medal.

Nexxice. 2007.Since then, Canadian teams have been on the podium ten times including in 2009 when Canada hit another milestone. After years of finishing in third place, Canada finally struck gold. NEXXICE, from Western Ontario and the Burlington Skating Club, coached by Shelley Simonton Barnett and Anne Schelter, won Canada’s very first gold medal, the only gold Canada has won to date against the currently dominant Nordic countries.

At this year’s World Championships in Hamilton at the FirstOntario Centre April 10th and 11th … and with home ice advantage … NEXXICE will once again carry Canada’s banner into competition along with Les Sûpremes from Quebec’s CPA St Leonard.

To claim that honour, both teams competed recently at the Skate Canada Synchronized Skating Championships in Quebec City where NEXXICE won an unprecedented ninth consecutive senior title. Along with Les Sûpremes, those two teams are considered role models for the 800 other skaters on forty of the country’s best teams competing at nationals.

It’s no surprise that to have that kind of national and international success, synchro runs deep in Canada.

This year 6500 skaters were registered on 467 teams at all levels of expertise across the country. From beginners to experts, for fun or for medals, skating at home or abroad, participating in synchro is good news for everyone! It can be as light-hearted or as competitive as the motivation of the individual skater.

While teams around the world concentrate on continuing to push the level of skating to amazingly high standards; while more countries and more skaters become involved, the sport is approaching another major turning point.

The dream to compete in the Olympic Games may be coming into focus.

Irish Kiss: Nova synchronized skating team pays tribute to cherished manager with emotional Celtic program

Just before the music starts, Nadine Tougas glances skyward and blows a kiss towards the heavens.

It’s become the choreographed signature of the season for the Nova Open synchronized skating team. This kiss, this sentimental Irish kiss, for their own Linda McGirr.

“Every time we did that, in every program, it was in Linda’s memory,” says team captain Tougas.

“It is for her.”

Call it the longest goodbye in this most emotional of seasons for the Quebec-based Nova squad, an enduring tribute to their longtime manager who passed away so suddenly one year ago. Linda McGirr

No one ever saw it coming. Hours after Nova returned home from the 2014 Skate Canada Synchronized Skating Championships in B.C. with a fourth straight Open title, McGirr, a beloved teacher who had dedicated her spare time to Nova for more than a decade, told her family she was feeling unusually tired.

“At competitions, she was always the last one to bed and the first one up, she was always doing something for the team,” says team coach and choreographer Marie-France Sirois. “It was just who she was. We thought that was why she was tired. We never thought it could be anything else.”

McGirr went to the doctor for what she thought would be a routine check-up.

Instead, what followed was the devastating news that she had been diagnosed with Stage 4 liver cancer, and she did not have much time left.

Linda McGirr never went home again. Instead, she went straight to the hospital. A month later, she was gone, at just 51 years of age.

“The last thing she did in her life was with this team,” Sirois adds. “That is how much she loved us. That is how much she loved this team.”

“We didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye. We honestly thought we still had lots of time with her…”

McGirr seemed to have a profound effect on everyone she ever met, whether it was her students at Champlain College Saint-Lambert, where she taught for over 30 years, or her skating families at CPA Brossard and the Nova Synchronized Skating Club. Even after her daughter, Caroline, stopped skating with Nova a few years ago, Linda’s bond with the team only grew stronger.

In her final days, McGirr found comfort in the Celtic music she had listened to her entire life. Her battle was brief yet courageous.

And then she was gone.

At her funeral, several of McGirr’s favourite Irish songs were played, including Danny Boy. As she struggled to hold back the tears, Sirois found herself captivated by the music.

“It was such a sad day, but that music…” says Sirois of the funeral, before pausing.

“Beautiful music for a beautiful person. It was then I decided we would honour her with our program.”

Without a chance to bid a final farewell to McGirr, Nova created their own goodbye, set on their terms, to their music, their program and their season.

Sirois, looking to find that perfect balance for their four-minute routine, began listening to Irish music night and day. Once she decided on the songs, Sirois brought in Hugo Chouinard, renowned in skating circles for his music design mastery, to build a medley that opens with a moving Celtic rendition of Amazing Grace and culminates with a toe-tapping Riverdance number.

Once the music was cut, Sirois turned to esteemed Quebec designer Josiane Lamond to create the team’s Celtic-inspired outfits. She also enlisted the help of Montreal Irish dancer Martin Côté, who has performed all over the world, to work with her team.

The final product was an exquisite four-minute labour of love that kindled a year-long tribute, culminating with Nova claiming their fifth consecutive national Open championship two weeks ago in Quebec City.

Irish Kiss. Synchronized skating team.

“It was very emotional, and people came up and told us we were able to pass on that emotion to the story,” adds Tougas. “I will never forget this moment.”

“Linda inspired us right up until the end,” admits Tougas. “Each time we performed the program, we let her know, ‘This is for you. Enjoy.’”

“She loved to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, and loved everything Irish,” says Sirois, adding she was always inspired by the famed Riverdance program of Shae-Lynn Bourne and Victor Kraatz. “Her sense of humour helped make her who she was. She always had us laughing.

“I just wish we would have done this program when she was still here with us.”

“It has been very emotional, but we want people to remember her, to talk about her and let people know what she meant to us,” Sirois continues. “I always tell the girls to skate for themselves – not for their parents, not for me – but for themselves.”

“This season it was different. Something was missing. They were also skating for someone else.”

In Quebec City for the national championships, their first without McGirr, Nova taped a photo of their beloved manager on each of the team’s hotel room doors.

On the final day of practice, as Nova went through one last dry run on their biggest stage of the season, a lone bird glided into the arena, circling high above the ice for a few minutes.

The moment was not lost on anyone.

“Someone said ‘it’s her. She’s here,’” says Sirois.

“It almost felt like a sign that she was still with us.”

Some things are just not meant to change.

Fifty Years Later: Petra Burka, 1965 World Champion

It doesn’t feel like 50 years, says Petra Burka, 1965 world champion, of her momentous achievement, almost a lifetime ago. Somebody sent flowers and cheer. There’s a celebration in Toronto on today. The years have gone in a flash. Still, Burka is ever youthful. “I think because I’m with kids a lot, I don’t feel old,” she says, still working as a team leader and coach.

She remembers little of that day 50 years ago of her stunning win. But she recalls that she and her coach/mother Ellen Burka looked at each other when they heard Petra had won. “I think she was happier than me,” Petra said. “I was in shock.” She had swept both the figures and the free skate.

In a way, she’s paying the price for having an innate jumping ability and she did it in a time without the sort of support that the skaters of today enjoy. Last year, she had hip replacement surgery. The banging on her leg as she worked the doubles – and the triples – took a toll. “It’s a skating thing,” she says. “I think you’ll find a lot of figure skaters, dancers, athletes need hip replacements. It was my landing foot. Now they have sophisticated programs that allow you to get your body warmed up so you won’t injure yourself.”

In Petra’s time, there was no such science or help. Skaters back then did not do off-ice work. She went to the rink straight from school, put on her skates and jumped. Strangely enough, Petra never suffered an injury as a competitor. And just like so many other things in her life, it wasn’t easy for Petra to recover from her hip surgery. The flat in which she lives – in an orchid-hued house designed by architect sister Astra – requires her to navigate 45 steps to the top, to her sun-filled digs.

Petra was Ellen’s first international student, and together they learned the ropes. For her now 93-year-old mother (she still has her driver’s licence), there had been many more to follow. Ellen Burka has taught students that made it to seven Olympics and won 48 international medals. Petra led the way, often training on her own while her single mother worked to pay the bills. Fifty years ago, skaters didn’t get money to train, and they were restricted from earning money. The rule back then was that if skaters earned more than $25 in a season, they’d be banished from the amateur kingdom for good.

“After worlds, we’d be in shows all over Europe and North America, but we didn’t see anything of it,” says Petra. While Petra’s journey to her first world championship in Prague in 1962 was paid by the skating association, Ellen had to buy her own ticket. While she was away, she’d lose the revenue from lessons missed. At Petra’s first Canadian championship in Regina, she and her mother dined on their own breakfast of champions – a can of beans on a hotel dining room plate – because her mother didn’t have the cash to pay for steaks. Remember, women weren’t allowed to apply for credit cards in those days.

In her day, skaters didn’t have the luxury of going to sports schools that would understand the demands of an athlete schedule. Petra would get to the rink by 6 a.m. for four hours of figures, and two hours of free skating a day, and she’d miss the first period of school. Between January and March, she seldom showed up at school because of her travels. The school would demand that Petra still write her exams and she’d cram to fit it all in. Luckily, she has a photographic memory and it would all stick. The year she won the world championships, she got 49 out of 50 on a health exam, but zero for the physical education portion of the course – because she was never there.

It didn’t take long for the Russians to spot Petra’s superior jumping ability at her first world championship in 1962. During a tour that followed, she received a telegram from the Russian federation, asking if she and her mother could go to Moscow and do skating seminars. “They wanted to know how my mother taught ‘that girl who could jump.’” Petra says. “What’s the secret?”

In Prague, the Russians had taken their passports. Ellen was understandably skittish, with no documents in hand in a Communist country. Finally they boarded a cargo plane with no seats for the ride to Moscow. Ellen calmed her nerves by downing vodka. “I remember the plane flew really low and dropped mail or whatever and would keep flying,” Petra recalls.

After her amateur career, Petra toured for three years with Holiday on Ice, with the final two years in Europe. It was a culture shock for Petra, used to training, never going out, missing the high school prom. They played to sold-out houses for a month in Paris, and Amsterdam, too. Picture this: near a rink in Paris, there would be 10 caravans, where the show’s cast and crew would have wives and dogs and lives. Petra could have stayed for another two-year stint, but she decided that she didn’t want to get caught up in a never-ending carnival life with “all those gypsies that stay in forever.”

Mostly, Petra would stay in cheaper hotels in Europe (skaters paid for accommodations) because that’s where her friends were. One night, she was caught off guard. During a drive from France to Spain, Petra stopped to watch Neil Armstrong set foot on the moon in 1969 on a tiny TV screen somewhere out in the countryside. When Petra finally arrived in Madrid, the sun was rising over the city, and her room had been taken. It was the only time she checked into a five-star hotel during her career.

She arrived back home in Toronto with a designer wardrobe and a Mercedes 250 SL that promptly died, and found herself in the midst of another culture shock. While she’d been gone, hippies had blossomed, and they all wore gauzy dresses with flowers in their hair. “We were yuppies before there were yuppies,” Petra says. She had to adjust to the real world. “It took me the next 40 years to recover,” she says, laughing.

With the money she made on the tours, she bought her mother a refrigerator. “I want to make sure my mother gets credit,” Petra says. “She had a pretty tough life. She had to drive herself around between three clubs to make a living. My mom was instrumental in my doing well. It was because of her that I became a champion.”

“I cheer for trying my best”: Special Olympians epitomize the spirit and passion of sport

Brothers of sorts, Matthew Lai is nestled up beside his B.C. Special Olympics teammate Eric Pahima on the kiss and cry bench at these Canada Winter Games, subtly eyeing the two roses clutched in his friend’s right hand.

With a slight, almost inaudible, wisp of sadness in his voice, Matthew leans over and says, “I didn’t get one of those.”

There is no pause. The words are barely out of his mouth, and Eric reaches out and passes a flower to his friend.

“You can have one of mine.”

Figure skater.

Instantly, both faces break out in broad, ear-to-ear grins. They hug. Around them, witnesses to this spontaneous act of kindness look at one another as if to say, “try not to cry. I dare you.”

There is little doubt, little argument, that these Special Olympians help represent the de facto true spirit of these Canada Winter Games.

It goes without saying that figure skating, by nature, is a sport charged with emotion. Smiles and tears, laughs and hugs, are a fabric of its soul.

But these competitors all wear smiles, teaching us in the process why we love sport, why we stand and cheer. Not just for the medals, but for daring to dream, for being witness to personal triumph and perseverance.

The tears? Those were reserved for everyone else in the building.

Figure Skater.

Credit: Dyanne Dimassimo

“This is what sport is all about – having athletes go out and perform and do their best,” says Brittany Baril, Special Olympics coach of Team Newfoundland Labrador. “That is what these athletes show us. Go out and work your hardest, give it your all. Nothing else really matters.

“Every so often, all of us can lose our passion along the way. These athletes remind us how important it is to keep that passion. They always have it.”

“Sometimes it’s hard to hold it together,” Baril adds. Her voice begins to waver, and she has to take a breath.

“It’s a unique bond we share, and it is very rewarding,” she continues after a pause. “As a coach, you just want to teach the love of skating and give something back. That’s what it is all about. The love of skating, no matter what level.”

Like Baril, Team B.C. Special Olympics figure skating head coach Jessica Chapelski has wiped away her fair share of tears at these Games.

“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve cried,” admits Chapelski. “I don’t even try to keep count anymore.”

“These athletes belong here, belong on this team, and it means the world to them. They are cheered. They feel free.”

Figure Skater.

Credit : Dyanne Dimassimo.

Standing alongside the personable Michael Sumner, one of her athletes from Team Yukon, coach Michelle Semaschuk has a tough time keeping her emotions in check, as well. As she speaks, tears well up in her eyes and she stops, caught up in the emotion of the moment.

As if on cue, Michael leans over and gives his coach a warm hug, for comfort.

It seems hugs are mandatory here.

“To see this camaraderie, this perseverance, can be overwhelming,” admits Semaschuk. “You see the passion, the love in their eyes. Michael continues to grow into this wonderful young man, with the biggest heart you’ll ever see.”

“This has been a tremendous experience for all our athletes,” says Cathy Skinner of Team Ontario. “It’s incredible. To see the crowd, even the judges, clapping and cheering means everything to these athletes. They’re all friends. They want to sit together. It’s just a life experience that most of them have never had. They don’t have tears. It’s all about the smiles. If they haven’t won, one of their friends has.”

“We could all learn from them.”

Like his fellow competitors, Matthew Lai is an entertainer, and cherishes his time on centre stage. Following his performances at these Games, he raises his arms to the heavens in triumph as he skates off, basking in the crowd’s adulation, in his moment.

Canada Winter Games. Athlete and coach.

“I like the crowd cheering, when they cheer for Matthew and his elements,” he says.

“I cheer for the flag of British Columbia. I cheer for trying my best.”

As it turns out, Matthew will leave these games with a gold medal. The medal, like the score, doesn’t seem to matter as much.

More importantly, he is leaving with his friendships. His memories. And his flower.