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TORINO -- For the past dozen years, Michelle Kwan's name has been synonymous with the sport of figure skating. She won every competition imaginable, most of them many times over, except, of course, for the Olympic Games, where the color of her medal somehow never quite turned to gold.
Throughout it all, she handled disappointment with grace, victory with humility. She never got in trouble, never said anything wrong. Unlike other multimillionaires, she didn't try to get away with saying she wasn't a role model, and in fact lived every moment of her life as if a child might be watching, trying to pick up pointers.
Along the way, she became the most visible skater of all time, coming of age as her sport exploded on television in the wake of the Tonya-Nancy saga. Her longevity was remarkable considering that her dominance occurred at the most turbulent time in the history of the sport. Little girls would come and go, but Kwan always remained, a model of constancy, always at the big events, always on the medal podium, always there, always.
For 12 years now, Kwan and her sport have been quite a team. But no more. Figure skating must now go solo. Michelle Kwan has withdrawn from the Olympics.
This was not how Kwan wanted it all to end, if this in fact is the end of her competitive career, which certainly seems likely. It wasn't supposed to finish with her unable to hold back tears, physically unable to skate, finally betrayed by a body that for so many years performed beautifully while absorbing the impact of thousands of jumps on the unforgiving ice.
That Kwan made it to 25 before finally having to stop because of a recurring groin injury is another feather in a stuffed cap. Consider, for instance, that Tara Lipinski, who defeated Kwan for the gold medal at the 1998 Olympics, underwent major hip surgery at 20 and no longer skates.
Kwan's career was always so perfectly choreographed, until now. If only it were as easy for a skater to figure out how to leave a sport as it has been for her to dominate it. In hindsight, knowing what the last 48 hours would bring -- the reinjury, the uncertainty, the decision to withdraw -- Kwan never would have tried this, never would have come to the Games.
What a devastating moment for her: only four days after arriving in Italy, Kwan was out of the Olympics and booking a flight home.
Conspiracy theorists can have a field day with what has happened here, but it certainly looks like Kwan simply wanted nothing more than to try her hand at one final Olympics. Always considered one of her sport's finest competitors, she was hopeful her body would hold up just a little longer, hopeful the strides she showed in that monitoring session 16 days earlier would only continue, hopeful she somehow might contend for another Olympic medal. How could anyone find anything wrong with that?
Then, when Kwan realized she couldn't do it, she was true to her January promise that if she were not 100%, she would withdraw and give her spot to alternate Emily Hughes. That is exactly what she did Sunday, giving Hughes plenty of time to get to the Games before the women's short program Feb.21.
"I respect the Olympics too much," Kwan said, explaining why she was stepping aside.
In the past month, some wanted to turn the Hughes family and Michelle Kwan into rivals fighting over that last Olympic spot. What a futile exercise this was. Over the last few years, I've had my share of phone interviews with members of the Hughes family, and, invariably, they hung up by saying, "Tell Michelle hello next time you see her."
As the debate raged on about whether Michelle should be allowed to go to the Olympics, it was 2002 Olympic gold medalist Sarah Hughes who stood up most majestically for Kwan.
"I've always had the utmost respect for Michelle not only as a skater but also as a person," she told me in a January phone interview. "She has brought so much prestige to our sport. I always thought I was on the ice with a legend. Whenever they talk about the history of skating, they will talk about her."
Even in their euphoria, celebrating a second daughter going to an Olympics, the Hughes family paused.
"We really feel bad for Michelle," John Hughes, Emily's father, said in a phone interview Sunday. "Michelle and Emily were at the same event three or four times, and every time, Michelle went out of her way to say hello, to welcome her, to be nice."
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