Second Chance

Charlie Williams...Golden Boy The atmosphere became electric as the applause rose to a crescendo. With eight thousand people cheering and chanting ‘CHAR-LIE, CHAR-LIE’, I should have been nervous, having earlier read the newspaper headline, “GOLDEN BOY CHARLIE GOES FOR THE HAT TRICK”, but I had trained hard for this event, and knew my routine like the back of my hand. I waited for the announcer to introduce me. “And now, our final skater...Charles Williams!” With a burst of energy I skated out to centre ice to take up my starting position. I breathed in steadily, filling my lungs with air, and then exhaled slowly by letting the air out through a small space between my lips. I always found this simple exercise very calming. Almost as soon as the applause died down the first notes of my music filled the arena. I moved off, smoothly gathering speed with powerful crossovers toward my first jump. The ice felt good, and I felt ‘into’ it. The days of having ‘Jelly’ legs were long past, but then they should be. I was already a two-time British Champion, and hot favorite for a third title. I reached back with my free leg and ‘tapped’ into the ice, springing up as hard as I could. Wow! That was the highest triple Lutz I’d ever done, landing right on the crescendo in the music. Tchaikovsky would have been proud! Now, it was on to some intricate footwork leading into a difficult triple toe loop-double loop combination jump. No problem here, either. Before I knew it, I was at the stage where I got my ‘second wind’ - that inexplicable burst of renewed energy athletes get just when they think they’re exhausted - which helped me cruise through the middle section of my program into the last minute. I felt proud. So proud, because I had not let down the people who had traveled from all over England to see this championship. Each burst of applause felt like a hearty pat on the back, and I accepted it willingly as my reward for the years of sacrifice and pain that I had often endured. Before I knew it, I was into the final element of my program, pulling my arms in close to my body to accelerate the rotation of my cross-foot spin. The world became a complete blur as I rotated faster and faster. Then, a sudden dramatic stop, and it was all over. I was completely exhausted, but I took my customary bow and then let the energy from the standing ovation help my weary legs to carry me off toward the exit, but not before turning to give a final wave to those wonderful fans. Fans who would wait outside a stadium for two or three hours just to get a simple autograph. If only it was possible to thank each one of them individually. As I stepped off the ice into the section known as the ‘Kiss and Cry’ area, my coach greeted me with a wry smile. She didn’t seem overly impressed with my performance. “You almost overdid that first jump, didn’t you?” she chided. “I’ve told you before, things can go wrong just as easily by trying too hard as by not trying hard enough.” “Yes, I’ll be more careful next time,” I replied, mopping my forehead with a towel. As usual, I could expect no emotion from my stone-faced coach. No, Margaret Cook had seen it all before, and if you got a ‘Well done’ from her, it was as much as you could expect. She was a tough old ‘battle axe’ of a woman, but, once you got to know her, you couldn’t help loving her. After all, it was the tough ones who drove you on to success. At the ice rink where we trained, she had every one of us in tears at one time or another, but she also had that amazing ability to rip you apart, and then rebuild you to be a better skater than you were before. She was one of the ‘old school’ coaches who demanded respect. If you didn’t say, “Good Morning, Miss Cook” when you first saw her each day, you didn’t get a lesson for a week or two. “Well,” remarked Miss Cook. “I’m sure you’ve won, so I’m going to head back to London, now. You can have Monday off, but you’d better be back on the ice Tuesday, because you have that big International event in Budapest in two weeks time, and you don’t want to lose your fitness. “Okay, Miss Cook,” I replied. “I’ll be there, and...thanks for all you’ve done.” Cracking a slight smile as she walked away from me toward the back door of the stadium, she turned and said, “Alright, chum.” “Hey, Charlie!” a voice called out as I walked back along the corridor to the dressing room. “What a performance!” It was my mother and father, and I’d never seen them so excited. “We’re so proud of you. We’ve never seen you skate better.” “Thanks, mum and dad,” I said, getting the biggest hug I can ever remember. “I really felt confident. But you know what? Right now I just want to get changed and go back to the hotel to have something to eat. I’m starving!” I should have realized it wasn’t going to be that easy. I’d just won the British Championship, and there seemed to be a hoard of people waiting to congratulate me. One by one, they shook me by the hand, hugged me, and patted me on the back. I gratefully accepted the praise, and reminded myself that, one day, I would look back on these golden days and realize that this was the best time of my life. Suddenly, I felt an arm around my shoulder. “Charlie! Alastair Hodge, BBC Television. We’d like to do the interview now, if that’s okay?” “I’d be honored, Alastair. Lead the way.” He took me into the hospitality area, and we sat down. “Cameras and audio all set?” Alistair called out. “All set, Alastair,” said a voice from behind one of the cameras. “Whenever you’re ready.” “Okay, then...five, four, three, two........Good evening viewers. Alastair Hodge here, reporting from the British Ice Skating Championships. And with me is the man of the moment, Charlie Williams. Congratulations! British Champion for the third year running! How does it feel?” “Absolutely fantastic, Alastair. I still feel like I’m in a dream, but I’m sure I’ll come down to earth, soon. And I can’t thank my mother and father enough for standing by me, and encouraging me through the difficult years. And my coach, Miss Cook. She’s always had faith in me. And...oh, there are so many other people I want to thank. I just can’t name them all.” Alastair smiled, and gave me time to compose myself. “To most of us, you made this one look easier than the two previous years. Did it seem that way to you?” “Well...yes, and no. You see, I feel so much more experienced now, and that helped me handle the difficult elements in my program, but on the other hand, I had everything to lose, and not much to gain because I was expected to win this, so the pressure on me was enormous.” “Well, you handled it like a true champion. And now you look like being one of the favorites for the Olympic Gold Medal in Calgary in just three months time. You must be very excited.” “I certainly am, Alastair. My whole skating life has been geared toward the Olympics, and I can’t tell you how proud I’m going to feel marching behind the British flag at the opening ceremony. And, if I can bring back a medal, that will be a nice bonus.” “Well, you must know that the whole of England will be rooting for you all the way.”