Patrick Chan first Canadian to repeat as world figure skating champion in 16 years. Dimanno,
Patrick Chan screwed in his ear buds, propped up his legs, played a few hands of cards with his coaches.
When the arena began to rumble and shake, he thought: Aha, must be Brian Joubert.
But not until every other skater had finished — 23 of them — did the defending world champion emerge from the dressing room for his close-up, final competitor in the final flight. Cue the music. Cue the big tricks. Quad toe 1: Nothing to it. Quad toe 2: Better than the first. Triple Axel: Stupendous. And from that moment, less than a minute into his program, the 22-yearold from Toronto knew he had it nailed.
He would be the first Canadian global gold medallist, male, to repeat as world champion since Elvis Stojko back in 1995.
He would show everybody there was nothing remotely fluky about his paramount skating prowess — though no one has doubted his singularly spectacular skills, certainly not over the past two seasons of uninterrupted triumphs.
He would leave the French Riviera exactly as he was upon arrival: The man to beat and the man who apparently can’t be beaten.
Chan is entirely inside the sweet spot of skating at this point in his career, victor again Saturday at the world championships. And yet. They booed Chan. Jeered, heckled and erupted in those piercing whistles that are the European version of a hiss.
Kept it up, too, for ever so long as Chan awaited his marks in the kiss ’n’ cry, continued the caterwauling when the scores were flashed, confirming the Canadian’s fresh investiture, more gold bling to hang around his neck.
It’s not that there’s any ill will towards Chan, the endlessly ebullient skating virtuoso who has essentially rewritten the record book in his sport. But, from what spectators had just witnessed with their own eyes, he should not have been the winner on this occasion. Chan begs to differ. Surprised he’d triumphed? “No, I knew when I got off the ice. With that strong opening I felt like I had won anyway.”
That “anyway” refers to what didn’t go precisely as planned.
“I was just happy and relieved that it was over,” the back-to-back champ said afterwards, claiming ignorance of the full-throated heckles, ears wide shut. “I didn’t actually notice. I could just sort of hear it in the background.
“I wasn’t sure if it was cheers or jeers but either way it was pretty cool. It shows they care, right?”
The transcendent skater had just accomplished what had been vowed: He’d defended.
But it was a surprisingly un-chanian performance in Saturday’s free skate, a program that crashed in the middle and never really found its lofty footing again.
When did Chan last fall on a double Axel? When, come to that, did a world champion win despite falling on a double Axel?
“That opening — after waiting for five skaters, 40 minutes — and just the way everything was planned out perfectly . . . you know what? It was smart skating. It was not perfect, mistakes here and there. Shows that I’m human, right? “Somebody asked me earlier this week, ‘How can these guys beat you?’ It’s a question I’ve been asked a lot this season. Well, I left it open for them after the short and I left it open after the long. I gave them little chances.” When the scores flashed up on the board, Chan had pulled down a free skate score of 176.70, nearly 10 points off his season’s best. Yet still good enough to top the field in the long and, coupled with his twopoint bulge from the short, 266.11 overall, good for gold again. But then the hoots and hollers cascaded down from the stands at the Palais des Expositions again. If they couldn’t have home favourite Joubert in the medals — he finished fourth — then this was an audience palpably pulling for one of the two Japanese men: former world champ Daisuke Takahashi and youngster Yuzuru Hanyu, only 17 and world junior champion last season. Hanyu, despite one tumble, had electrified the crowd earlier. Indeed, he edged out compatriot Takahashi in the free skate — and had the best technical marks of any competitor on the day — though settling for bronze. Takahashi took silver. For Japan, this marked the first time two of their men had medalled at worlds. But it was Canada at the apex — and that’s gold-times-two in Nice, with Chan joining ice dancers Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir in the winner’s circle. Didn’t come as easy as it looked, however; or, rather, didn’t look as easy as it came. “It’s the hardest competition this far in my career,” Chan admitted. “On the double Axel, it was a combination of being a bit late to the music and . . . it’s a long program. I lost concentration a bit.” That double Axel — which Chan can do in his sleep — proved disorienting. It arrived in the last third of a routine skated to “Adagio from Concierto de Aranjuez.” It defeated him. Fell so hard on his backside that, an hour later, Chan was still holding an ice pack to his bum. Truthfully, the program seemed somewhat on the ropes even before the fall. But there was that awesome start, an explosion out of the gate that pretty much precluded anyone else dislodging Chan.
Chan was unsure what had sent the double Axel off the rails. “I was late in the program and that may have played a factor. I feel like I have to catch up, I have to catch up, so I rushed the takeoff. It’s always kind of a funky jump. I bruised my butt pretty good so I guess that’s a punishment.
“I didn’t skate necessarily lights out but I definitely skated smart. I made sure all the little details were done well. It all added up and I ended up still on top.”
These worlds, Chan acknowledged, have been no walk on the promenade, a far more mentally grinding experience than a year ago in Moscow. He arrived here in a funk after a week of lousy practices at home in Colorado Springs.
“Coming here, I had my doubts. I thought, oh my God, am I going to be the guy who lost it, didn’t make it happen, when he was so close? But I snapped myself out of it because I knew I’d trained hard all season.”
Most people, Chan knew, almost took it for granted that he would recapture the crown. “It’s like, if he does it, he should be the winner. And if he doesn’t, shame on him. It’s a unique position, maybe uncomfortable sometimes. But I think I made it over the hump now.”
So, not quite how Chan had envisioned things, with raspberries ringing in his ears.
Yet still, indisputably, the finest male skater on the planet.
So boo-you.