Friday, February 8, 2002
Such cruel rewards
Death and injury on the ski slopes makes gold a dangerous pursuit
By STEVE BUFFERY -- Toronto Sun
Heading into his 11th and final season on the Canadian alpine ski team, Toronto's Edi Podivinsky had every reason to believe that he would go out with style.
The Edmonton-born athlete enjoyed a tremendous summer of training, both on snow and off. He was, and is, injury-free and prepared to let it all hang out as he said goodbye to his rivals on the World Cup tour this winter, hopefully topping it all off with a strong showing in the downhill at the Salt Lake City Olympics on Feb. 10.
The best-laid plans, however ...
He has yet to land on the medal podium in any event this season, or even crack the top 10. Two weeks before the start of the Olympics, the 31-year-old ski racer, and downhill bronze medallist from the 1994 Lillehammer Olympics, is tied for 123rd overall in the overall World Cup standings.
Podivinsky is loath to analyse why his season has been so poor, but his former teammate and good friend, Brian Stemmle, believes it may have something to do with the fact that in his last year on the competitive circuit, Podivinsky may just be holding back on the mountain.
Stemmle, now a television analyst, said as racers get older, they start thinking more about retirement and how splendid it would be to head off into another career with all your limbs in one piece. Podivinsky said himself at a pre-season media conference last fall that he was hoping to get through this season without a serious injury.
And as any ski racers knows, the slightest bit of doubt, the slightest hesitation on a turn, can ruin even the cleanest run.
"To be a fast ski racer you must ski to the edge of your ability," Podivinsky's teammate Darin McBeath said. "Ironically, the perfect and fast run is one full of mistakes, but just fractions below your capabilities. To be so close to your physical boundaries means to toy with the idea of loss of control and possible injury."
Podivinsky and McBeath are essentially the last remnants of the once great Canadian men's downhill squad. For decades, starting in the late 1970s, Canada consistently fielded fast, daring and successful downhill teams on the World Cup circuit. Between 1975 and 1994, Canadian men recorded 23 World Cup victories. No one has reached the top since 1994, when Podivinsky won in Saalbach, Austria and Cary Mullen in Aspen.
One of the reasons for that has been injuries. Stemmle almost died in a horrific accident in Kitzbhuehel, Austria in 1989 and Mullen was forced to retire a couple of years ago after hitting his head in a crash in the U.S.
Even some of the promising young skiers, such as Toronto's Graydon Oldfield, and Jennifer Mickelson, were forced off the circuit because of career-ending injuries.
Stemmle has no doubt that every time one of the skiers on the current Canadian team takes to the starting gate, there are some ghosts of teammates past haunting their mindset. That's tough, but this year has been especially bad for serious and even fatal crashes.
Earlier this month in Kitzbuehel, Austrian great Josef Strobl suffered a season-ending knee injury in a crash during downhill practice. On Dec. 8, Swiss star Silvano Beltrametti lost control on the Oreiller Killy downill course in Val d'Isere, France, hurtled into the safety netting at 120 km/h and suffered spinal and back injuries that may leave him paralysed for life. Worst of all, in late October, last season's Super-G champion, Regine Cavagnoud of France, died a couple of days after a training-run collision in Innsbruck, Austria.
In a sport that is known as one of the most dangerous of all, rarely has ski racing experienced so many tragedies and McBeath admits that many skiers are feeling plenty of self-doubt this season. Himself included.
"The death of Cavagnoud was surprising to say the least, but it didn't hit home like Silvano's," McBeath said. "Perhaps it was because I never knew Regine. However, to have watched Silvano minutes before his run and wonder what was going through his head as he prepared for his race, only hear that he had rendered himself a paraplegic was a memory difficult to understand.
"The very legs he warmed up on, which squatted huge weight in the months of summer training and took him up and down huge mountains, in minutes would now be useless," McBeath said. "How can you comprehend such cruel rewards for hard work and determination?
"Now I have to convince myself that this is worth it."
Many ski racers have had to do the same. Sports Illustrated called it "Skiing's Troubled Year." And it has been. Ski officials, Canadian and otherwise, are hoping that the Salt Lake City Games breathes new life into the sport and the sadness of the season slowly dissipates into the past.
"The one saving grace for me is that I know I have experience that makes me a good ski racer," McBeath, 25, said. "I train hard all year round and have put myself in virtually every position and situation possible.
"Skiing is inherently dangerous, but what I do is a calculated risk. My experience makes the thought of flying off the Camel Jumps at Val Gardena or skipping along the Zielschuss at Kitzbuehel a little more comprehensible," the Calgary skier said. "However, this doesn't separate me from Regine or Silvano. I realize that accidents do happen and will continue to happen no matter what I'm doing. I guess I've just succumbed to the fact that the pursuit of glory is not fair, nor is it predictable.
"You asked, 'Is it tough to let it all hang out?' I still find myself asking `How the hell do I do it?' Yes, it's tough ... but if it was easy, it probably wouldn't be fun."
2002 Games Alpine Skiing Coverage
