Russia’s Last Stand
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

Last night’s ladies figure skating final could not have produced a more perfect illustration of the state of the sport. Russia, victorious in three out of four disciplines (pair’s, men’s, and ice dance) and narrowly missing an unprecedented sweep with Irina Slutskaya’s bronze medal finish, remains the sport’s leading power. But already, skating is witnessing the first signs of a new world order.
Regardless of Slutskaya’s disappointing finish, capturing three out of four Olympic titles is an incredible feat. How ironic, then, that these Olympics will likely be remembered as the beginning of the end of the Russian era.
Paradoxically, these Games’ lasting contribution to figure skating will be to empty its ranks of those last few skaters brought up in the legendary Soviet athletic system – and consequently, to clear a path for rising stars from other, less-storied nations.
For years, people have been asking how Russia, absent the state subsidies that fueled the Soviet sports machine, could go on producing figure skating champions. Since 1994, Russians have captured 12 of the 16 Olympic skating titles. The basic answer was that there were still plenty of Soviet-trained skaters left in the pipeline. The champions of Turin are veterans, ranging in age from mid 20s to early 30s.They were discovered by Soviet scouts in their childhoods and provided with free ice and lessons as youngsters. Their coaches trained at the USSR’s scientific sports academies.
Even so, this generation’s Russian champions had to fight hard for their gold medals. When the USSR collapsed, rinks closed, subsidies disappeared, and top coaches emigrated. Five years ago, Tatyana Totmianina and Maxim Marinin, the reigning gold medalists in pairs, had to follow their coach, Oleg Vasiliev, to Chicago, while ice dance champions Tatyana Navka and Roman Kostomarov moved with coach Alexander Zhulin to New Jersey.
The case of men’s gold medalist Yevgeny Plushenko is an evocative illustration of the problem. The USSR collapsed when Plushenko was 8. Three years later, the rink in his home city of Volgograd was turned into a car dealership. Plushenko paid his own way by train to St. Petersburg to audition for famous coach Alexei Mishin. Mishin liked the boy enough, but the old support system for prodigies was no longer in place.
Fortunately, Mishin decided to pay for the 11-year-old’s housing out of his own pocket, and by the time Plushenko was in his midteens,h e was winning medals and prize money. Today, at 23, he’s undisputedly the best skater in the world.
Both Plushenko and the 27-year-old Slutskaya still train in Russia with their original coaches. Yet much of their success has to be attributed to the old Soviet system – to the scouts who chose them, the funding that supported them, the coaches who reared them. You can see this clearly when you compare their results with the results of the young skaters in their home rinks, skaters who haven’t produced anything close to Plushenko’s or Slutskaya’s success medal haul.
It used to be that when a Russian won an Olympic gold medal and retired, his or her rivals still harbored the fear that the next crop of champions was waiting in the wings. But in Turin, the wings are empty. Indeed, after the gold medalists, you have to look pretty far down the list to find the next Russian skater. In the men’s event, 25-year-old Ilia Klimkin finished 11th. (In contrast, the American men finished fourth, fifth, and seventh.) In the ladies’ event, 26-year-old Yelena Sokolova was 14th.
Revealingly, Russia sent no teenagers in the singles events, and when the third Russian lady dropped out a week early, team officials didn’t even bother to replace her.
It was a sign of the times that celebrated coach Tamara Moskvina – whose pairs have won eight Olympic medals – was shut out of the medals this year for the first time in 22 years. Moskvina continues to train her pupils in St. Petersburg, but her young pair this year could only muster an eighth place finish.
Russia has won 12 straight Olympic pairs titles, and there used to be a joke that the guy who put the anthems on the loudspeaker only had to learn where the Russian one was kept. But it seems safe to say that the Russian pairs dynasty has reached its end. Here in Turin, it was China that staked a claim to the future of pair skating; its three teams finished second, third, and fourth.
Likewise, in ladies’ side, it was the Japanese and American teams that showcased real depth. America’s Kimmie Meissner and Emily Hughes, who finished sixth and seventh yesterday, have technique, style, and competitive drive. The Japanese are even stronger. Two-time world bronze medalist Fumie Suguri finished fourth yesterday, 2004 world champion Shizuka Arakawa won the gold in resounding fashion, and perhaps the most talented Japanese skater of the lot, 15-year-old Mao Asada, wasn’t even invited to Turin – she was too young to compete.
The fact is that it’s hard to make champions now in Russia. Ice is scarce, and it’s no longer reserved for the most promising skaters. And Russian coaches, once provided for by the state, now make a pittance. Not surprisingly, dozens of Russian coaches have settled in America and in Europe.
And so in future Olympics, we shall expect to see perhaps fewer champions representing Russia. Yet Russian influence will be everywhere. Take, for example, the case of legendary coach Tatyana Tarasova, who spends much of her time in Connecticut. For this Olympics alone, she choreographed for Americans Michelle Kwan (who withdrew) and Johnny Weir.
Tarasova also played a key role in the development of gold medalist Arakawa, whom she coached up until this past November. If that weren’t enough, Tarasova has also coached silver medalist Sasha Cohen.
The influence of Russian skating, and of its extraordinary coaches, will be felt forever in the sport of figure skating. And no doubt there will be occasional Russian Olympic champions. But the 2006 near sweep augurs not more Russian domination, but retirements, and then a changing of the guard. In Vancouver four years from now, the field will be more open than it has been in nearly four decades. There will be talents from all corners of the northern hemisphere, and many of them will bring their Russian coaches.