Naomi Nari Nam ca. 2000. Photo credit: Geraldine Wilkins/Los Angeles Times via Getty Images.
In 1999, 13-year-old Naomi Nari Nam was the rising star of American figure skating. Her spectacular performance at the 1999 US Nationals (2nd only to Michelle Kwan) had earned the young skater hoards of fans and tons of media appraise. Naomi’s performance left such a mark on the skating world in the span of mere 4 minutes that the impact reached the other side of the ocean, transforming her into a mini star in her family’s native South Korea. ISU age regulations and bureaucracy problems prevented her from shining on the world stage in 1999.
Competitive highlights: 1992 Olympic Games (16th), 1992 Worlds (13th), 1992 European Championship (14th), 1992 Vienna Cup Winner, Russian National Championships (1992 – 2nd place, 1993 – 3rd place)
Tatiana Rachkova hailed from the same generation of Russian ladies singles skaters as 1999 World champion Mariya Butyrskaya but is not as widely known to figure skating fans today. She made a quick, very promising splash in 1992 by participating at every major event (including the Olympics) but sadly disappeared from the world scene quickly after. Her style merged athleticism, powerful jumps and strong technique with unconventional eye-catching choreography, turning her into a predecessor of a new generation of talented, original Russian skaters like Olga Markova (covered in my previous post) and Butyrskaya herself.
She first emerged in the early 90s in a diluted competitive field, at the background of the disbanding Soviet Union, amidst growing uncertainty in the political and sports arena alike. Women singles’ skating at the time had taken a step back in the USSR due to the higher popularity of pairs and ice dance, combined with decreased political support on the side of the federation and lack of attention on the coaches’ side.
During the late 80s and 90s very few male skaters ever displayed the same energy and light effortless elegance on the ice like David Liu of Taiwan did. Having first fallen in love with dance as a child and training as a classical ballet dancer, he had the perfect opportunity to translate the gifts of musicality and poise into each of his programs.
Throughout his long career on the international scene spanning from the 1988 Winter Olympic Games in Calgary up to the 1998 Olympics in Nagano, David Liu had the honor of being the very first skater to represent Chinese Taipei at international competition, as well as the first skater from that country to reach the final stage at the Olympics and Worlds, and win an international skating competition (1992 Nebelhorn Trophy). Despite not having his presentation talent properly appreciated by the international judges at the time due to the lack of political support, David is still remembered today by experienced fans as an exquisite artist who instantaneously drew the crowd into his world, with his unforgettable performance at the 1992 Olympics being the crown jewel in his lengthy career.
In the wild spectacle of elite sports, stars ascend quickly, shine brightly and fall down in an instant if they are not able to win big during the narrow window when their physical abilities are at their peak. Media and fans, hungry for thrill and eternally seeking new favorites to replace yesterday’s heroes, usually do not put much thought into this endless cycle. It is either a story of continuous undefeated success that sticks in the minds of the viewers, or a tale of defeating impossible odds to rise to the top.
And figure skating, like all sports, is a straightforward, simple and extremely cruel game: the most capable rise to the top, the less talented or lucky ones are easily replaceable both by their federations and in the eyes of the audience. Unfortunately, little attention do we pay to the fact that for every Yuna Kim, Yuzuru Hanyu or Evgeni Plushenko who garner and inspire countless dedicated fans with their astonishing abilities and competitive drive to beat all odds, there are thousands of equally amazing figure skaters who come painfully short of achieving their immense potential. A few of them live in the collective memory of the community as a cautionary tale for the dangers of the sport; the overwhelming majority end up a mere sporting statistic.
Ilia Klimkin is arguably one of the most talented figure skaters to ever come out of Russia – and probably one of the biggest wasted talents from there, and that says a lot for a country that prides itself on being one of the leading powers in the sport. He was almost up there with Evgeni Plushenko and Alexei Yagudin in terms of raw talent and artistry, but unlike the other two, he lives in the minds of figure skating aficionados today as a collection of a few faint fragmented memories. Yet, I am still to find a story which more beautifully illustrates the hypocrisy, unfairness and ultimate meaninglessness of elite sports on all sides, like the career of this largely forgotten skater does.
