Freestyle Skiing - Part B - by Anne Shier (a.k.a. "Annie")

(Based on the book, “Winter Olympics:  An Insider’s Guide to the Legends, the Lore, and the Games”, Vancouver Edition, copyright 2008 by Ron C. Judd)

In the run-up to the Salt Lake Games, Jonny “Big Air” Moseley – who had always maintained that in a sport as free-form and fast-changing as moguls, the judges inevitably and invariably will be behind the curve – lobbied and received permission from technical officials to try out his new trick, the “dinner roll”, during Olympic competition.

“What I was doing was so much harder than what everyone else was doing”, he said.  “It was just night and day.”

But, it also risked getting the results it had received in earlier competitions – scores that would make it impossible for Moseley to win a medal.

And so, standing there atop the slope at Deer Valley, he knew there was really no choice.  Launching himself down the mountain, Moseley did a traditional jump off the first ramp, then hit the second and let it fly – a perfect, textbook dinner roll, as smooth and spectacular as any he’d ever completed.

The crowd went nuts.  The judges frowned.

Moseley, whose speed score had not been among the leaders, stood in third place after his run.  He wouldn’t stay there for long.  The last skier, Travis Mayer, 19, who had shot from nowhere to earn a spot on the Olympic team, became the answer to an all-time trivia question by skiing the run of his life to win a silver medal, pushing Moseley to fourth.

The crowd was incensed.  Moseley took it all in stride.  “I was trying to change the sport and do something unique”, he said later. “Maybe I was being stupid.  But, the truth is, I was trying to win.”

His sport, he believed, has simply not caught up with him yet.  And, he was probably right.  Such is the allure of freestyle skiing, undoubtedly the most creative snow sport on the Winter Olympics docket.

Skiers in the mainstream freestyle events, moguls and aerials, are as much performers as they are competitors.  Because both sports are judged (like figure skating), dramatic impact is everything – especially when the crowd, whipped to a frenzy by the thumping rock music of moguls skiing and by the enthusiastic announcers, is rarely satisfied with something they’ve already seen.

The event – known for decades as “hotdog skiing” – has carved its own niche in the modern Olympics, attracting large numbers of thrill-sport junkies raised on the X Games and other made-for-TV sporting events.  Thus, it’s been warmly embraced by IOC officials looking to put some pizzazz into Winter Games television ratings.

At the 2010 Vancouver Games, they’ll reach for even a bit more, introducing to the Olympic world the new sport of ski cross, a thrilling crash-ridden gang race inspired by another new fan favourite, snowboard cross. However, Jonny Moseley peaked and retired before ski cross came along.  And, it’s probably just as well.

That event is a bit more traditional in the sense that the first one across the line wins.  No judging to mess things up.

Did he make the right call that day at Deer Valley?  In a sport that rewards free spirit and innovation above medal counts, absolutely.  Moseley retired from Olympic competition with only one chunk of gold, but with a reputation for being true to himself, and his sport, that will live on long after the medal counts are forgotten.

copyright 2014, Anne Shier.  All rights reserved.