The answer: Figure skating is actually an extreme sport!

Dear fair-weather figure skating fan,

Welcome to RINK MONSTER!

If you’ve been following the Grand Prix series so far, you may have been surprised – and perhaps unimpressed – by the ‘splat-fests,’ particularly in the pairs and men’s singles competitions: multiple skaters falling multiple times in the same program.  What’s the deal, right?  Why can’t these skaters get it together?

Now, if you were at an ice show and the figure skaters started bombing their moves, I’d agree with you: what the heck.  But an ice show is a performance, not a competition, and skaters at an ice show are less likely to go for a program that pushes the absolute physical limit.  Figure skating competitions are another thing entirely.  It may help you to think of them as more like the X-Games and less like a performance of The Nutcracker.  Or perhaps, hilariously and wonderously, like a cross between the X-Games and The Nutcracker.

I’m not trying to say that ballet isn’t a sport. 

What I’m saying is that competitive figure skating at the elite level is an extreme sport that’s packaged (sometimes more and sometimes less successfully) like an artistic and/or creative performance.

There’s obviously some debate over what constitutes an extreme sport, but some factors include:

1) There are uncontrollable environmental variables.  Theoretically, ice in an indoor rink should be a controllable variable, but in reality, the quality of the ice often varies from venue to venue.  At the recent Skate Canada competition, the ice was said to be very hard and ideal for ice hockey, making it difficult for the figure skaters to dig in their blades and get the requisite traction with the ice necessary for landing difficult jumps and throws.  The ice can also be too soft: double Olympic champion Yuzuru Hanyu of Japan once described a particular competition ice as “like sushi,” and considered it less than ideal for edge jumps.  Rinks also vary in terms of air temperature, and even size.

2) Athletes in extreme sports tend to be younger than average.  Elite figure skaters definitely skew younger than athletes in more traditional professional sports, with winners and world leaders often as young as 15 in the women’s field, and most skaters in men’s and women’s singles winding down by their mid-twenties if not before.  Of course, there are always exceptions.  In ice dance, where no jumps or throws are allowed, teams are more likely to be in their mid or late 20s than singles skaters.

3) There is considerable physical risk to the athletes if they execute the activity poorly.  Falling, dropping, hitting their head on the ice, getting cut or stabbed by blades, etc. puts figure skating on a level more like aggressive inline skating (but with sharp blades and without helmets).  It takes a lot of skill not to seriously injure yourself doing these moves.

4) Extreme sports tend to be judged with more subjective, aesthetic criteria than merely height, distance, speed, etc.  Although measures like height, speed, and distance certainly matter in figure skating, so do difficulty, ‘effortlessness,’ choreography, flexibility, and body position, just to name a few.

All this to say, in the superfan community, the debate is not over whether figure skating should be considered a sport.  It is essentially over the fact that since the implementation of the International Judging System (IJS) in 2004, figure skating has become an extreme sport, whether it’s okay that it isn’t safe, and whether performance and artistry should count for more, or even less than it currently does.

Today, Yuzuru Hanyu released a statement that he had once again injured his landing ankle – this time in his quest to land the quadruple axel, which no person has ever done in competition. 

This news has been met with well-wishes from all over the world, as well as many superfans expressing a genuine desire to donate their own uninjured ankles to Hanyu.

Even skaters like Hanyu, who has impeccable jumping technique, can face serious injury – especially when their dreams are basically to defy human limits.  Hanyu has spoken in interviews about the difficulty of being a pioneer.  But even as I cringe when I hear about his latest injury, I feel gratitude and respect for this athlete who says he has landed the quad axel in his dreams, and that he hasn’t imagined anything: he’s going to land it.

Another pioneer, Alexandra Trusova of Russia, the human advent of the quad revolution in women’s skating, won gold at Skate America in October with a stress fracture in her foot.  She jumped ‘only’ one quadruple lutz at that competition due to injury, although she has landed as many as 5 quads at the Russian test skates, and as many as 4 in competition last season during the Russian Cup.

Then there is world champion Anna Shcherbakova of Russia coming off an injury going into Grand Prix Italy this week (today’s news is that she landed her quadruple flip combination in practice).  And US Champion Bradie Tennell who changed coaches last year in pursuit of a triple axel and/or quads, who is currently injured and has withdrawn from all her competitions so far this year.  Also Rika Kihira of Japan, who has jumped triple axels and a quad in competition, is currently injured and withdrew from the recent Skate Canada. Even three-time world champion Nathan Chen, who is known for his consistency in performing multiple types of quadruple jumps, has recently announced he is dealing with a hip injury.

Like in all other sports, there is a balance in figure skating between pushing your limits and injuring yourself.  

Some athletes may skew to the side of pushing – but like in all sports, you take on risk when you do that.  You might produce something historical or you might not be able to compete at all. Even non-jump elements, performed at a boundary pushing level, can end or forestall careers.  Olympic silver medalist Evgenia Medvedeva was ultimately undone by practicing the Biellmann spin position with a chronic back injury, leaving her off the Russian national team and taking at least a year off from competition.

Partly because it is a judged sport, and reputation and expectations exist, we figure skating fans often try to predict who will make international teams and win Olympic medals.  

But if I had to predict one thing for this Olympic season, it would be that who medals at the Olympic Games will be the last men and women standing. 

Due to the high probability of injury — not to mention the probability that high-difficulty elements may not work out for an athlete on a given night, figure skating is actually much less predictable than superfans appear to think.  Men tend to be less predictable than women, and this has to do with more of them doing these high-risk elements and the number of splat-fests that ensue.  But with the increased jump difficulty in the women’s event, women’s outcomes are becoming less predictable as well.

Although the casual viewer (or nonviewer) of figure skating may associate the sport with sparkly costumes, the reality is that it is freestyle, Evel Knievel, Cirque du Soleil on blades across ice.  The fact that it is traditionally meant to look effortless and graceful is only a further testament to the ridiculous mastery, coordination, agility, and fitness of the top figure skaters.  Do not be fooled. 

Timing, training methods, age, and psychology all play a role in outcomes of elite figure skating competitions.  Compared to professional baseball, where there are 162 regular season games, or even to American football, where there are now 17 regular season games, in figure skating there are between 5 and 8 major competitions in a season.  This equals higher stakes per competition than just about any other elite sport. 

For me, elite figure skating is exciting to a large extent because of the unknowns: the high stakes of the elements, the fact that in addition to the performative aspect I am watching a boundary-pushing sport competition in real time, where a lot can happen.  More, I would argue, than could happen to shake things up under the 6.0 system.  That’s why I’m glad the scoring system was changed.

Those who loved the precision and the ballet in the skating of yesteryear may feel like something’s been lost in a world of butt-falls, bad posture, and occasionally asinine music choices.  But the Sublime still breaks through, the art and precision in the tip top performances has never been better, and there can be moments of sublimity even in an ugly-landed quadruple Lutz – not to mention pathos in the popped jump at a crucial point in the program.

Then there are those moments where an injured or lesser known athlete defies the odds and transcends to the top, skating with heart and abandon, somehow in the absolute zone.

None of this can be foreseen in a crystal ball.  And sure, it helps if you have a rudimentary understanding of the ‘new’ scoring system.  But my god, it’s worth it.  And even if you don’t, you can still certainly feast your eyes and soul on the dangerous beauty that is elite figure skating.