Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2011

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

Episode 166

Nagano 

 

Tim here.  Charlie had a very specific reason that he wanted me to write this chapter; at least he gave me a very specific reason.  He said that he wanted it written by someone who’s completely in love with the Olympics, or at the very least the idea of the Olympics.  Well, I qualify.  And while I’m the first to admit that there are many problems with the way the Olympics are carried out, I’m still in love with the actual Olympics as well as the idea of the Olympics.  Sure the IOC could do a better job.  Of course they’re aristocratic snobs.  Of course they bungle things.  And the nations of the world can’t help but use the Olympics as a political pawn or weapon.  I think Jimmy Carter was an outstanding President, despite some bungling.  What he accomplised throughout the world in the area of human rights was impressive–unmatched by a modern president; he got too little credit for his accomplishments.  That said, I’ll never forgive him for the boycott–the ultimate politicization of the Olympics.  In ancient Greece he’d have lost office over that faux paux, or he might’ve been banished, or worse.  If Carl were here, he’d say, “Get down off your soap box.”

 

OK.

 

Let’s get the timeline straight.  This episode begins in the middle of September of 1997.  Shel was in my office, talking excitedly of the forthcoming Olympics in Nagano. Right here I have to admit that my view of the Olympics is of an event that happens once every four years in the summer.  I’m not particularly attuned to the winter Olympics.  I know that I should be, that winter Olympians have as much to be proud of as summer Olympians, but that doesn’t alter my reality.  The Olympics are, for me, a summer event.  Now here was Shel talking about THE OLYMPIC GAMES (he only thought in terms of an event that happened once every four years in the winter), and they were only a few months off.  It took me a minute to wrap my head around that.  My first question was, “What’re the Nagano dates?”

 

“Opening Ceremony on February 7, Closing Ceremony on February 22.”

 

“That’s 1998 you’re talking about?  Next year, right?”

 

“Right.”

 

“OK, I have to start right out by screwing up Auggie’s schedule.”  I fumbled through some papers on my desk and found Auggie’s master calendar.  “I, we, are supposed to be in Santiago, Chile, from February 7 to  16, and then in Kaneohe, Hawaii, from February 21 to the first of March.  I’ll have to let Auggie and Perry know that those dates have to be changed.  I don’t miss an Olympic Games with a COG competing.”

 

Shel said, “We’d all understand.  We know the importance of your own Olympic quest.”

 

“Shel, don’t even bother.  I appreciate the thought, but I will be in Nagano, from beginning to end, and that’s simply non-negotiable.  Auggie will understand, and I don’t even expect him to protest.  OK, now, next question.  Who from the Fred is going to be competing?  Wait a minute, Shel.  It seems to me that I remember that you won’t be old enough to compete in Nagano.  Skating has some dumb rule that you have to be sixteen.  Aren’t you sixteen?  You’ve acted like you were eighteen for years.  Are you really not sixteen?”

 

“Uncle Tim, I’m fourteen.  To skate in Nagano I would’ve had to be fifteen last July first.  I’ll be fifteen in December, so I’m six months too late.”

 

“Bad deal for you, Shel.  It’s much better when skill, and not the calendar, decides who can compete.  Your best years are likely to be ages 15 to 19, and you should be at the Olympics that comes in that period.”

 

“I’ll just barely be nineteen at the Salt Lake City Olympics in 2002.  Believe me, Brian and I intend to dazzle them.”

 

“OK, Shel, who’s going to Nagano?  No, no.  I know that we all are going to Nagano.  Who gets to march in the Opening Ceremony?”

 

“Brian.”

 

“Somehow I knew that.  If Brian weren’t on the list you wouldn’t be in my office talking about Nagano.  Who else?”

 

“You know Flip?”

 

“Of course, I know Flip.  I know everyone.  “Will he be racing?”

 

“Of course.  And so will his girl, Carmine.  He’s a short track racer and Carmine’s long track.”

 

“What have they qualified in?”

 

“Flip looks to be one of our top two or three racers.  He’ll be in the 500 meter, the 1,000 meter, and the 5,000 meter relay.  Two other racers will be in the same races, and the final two on the team will just be in the relay.”

 

“That puts five in the relay, right?”

 

“No, only four.  I got it wrong.  One of the other two racers in individual competition won’t be in the relay.  I don’t remember which.”

 

“So it’s a five man team?”

 

“Technically no.  It’s a ten person team.  The team consists of the five men racers and the five lady racers.”

 

“Males are men, females are ladies?”

 

“Sexist, isn’t it?  But that’s the skating terminology.  As I understand it, it, it dates back to an era when female skating was generally done only by the wealthy, and you always called them ladiesWomen got their hands dirty.  The terminology has stuck, and it applies in almost all women’s sports that have had women for a long time.  Think of the LPGA.  Swimmers, divers, and gymnasts are women, because the sports don’t carry that baggage.”

 

“Shel, that’s the kind of linguistics lesson I expect to get from Charlie, not from a fourteen-year-old figure skater.”

 

“I’ll assume that was a compliment and move right on.”

 

“Good assumption.  And, a good course of action.  “OK, so what distances is Carmine racing?”

 

“She’ll be in the 1,500, 3,000 and 5,000 meter distances.”

 

I said, “Wow, she’s got to be good to qualify at all three distances.”

 

“Believe me, she is.”

 

I thought it was time to get to the meat of Shel’s visit.  “Shel, what brings you to my office?  Surely not just to chew the fat about ice skating.”

 

“You cut off my run-down of Olympic skaters from the Fred.  We mustn’t forget Bett.”

 

“That would be Elizabeth Harper.”

 

“I take it that you have only met the lady on paper.  She’d be just about as happy being called Elizabeth as you would being called Timothy.”

 

“I don’t know anybody named Timothy, and I guess I’ll just forget about somebody named Elizabeth.  You must be talking about Bett Harper.”

 

“Bett’s going to tear Hell out of the ladies singles figure skating.  She’s fantastic.  You have to come and watch her.”

 

“I have, but I haven’t actually met her.  I tend to duck into the Fred and watch a little and then move on.  So, back to my question.  Why are you here?”

 

“You just answered your own question.  It’s time for you to get your ass over to the Fred and start providing love and support for the next crop of Olympians from North Dakota.  You were off sitting on your ass in some damn saillboat when they headed off to the Trials.  Well, they made it.  Now you need to be there.”

 

“You sure know how to give your old uncle what for.  And I think I deserve it.  You didn’t say it, Shel, but there were other kids from the Fred that didn’t make it through the Trials.  Would my love and support have changed that?  Be honest.”

 

“Uncle Tim, nobody–not even you–has so much magic that they can turn a non-Olympian into an Olympian, at least not overnight.  All the kids at the Fred are well supported, and were during the Trials.  But as we approach the Olympics, you are unique.  No other athletes in Nagano are going to get an extra boost from the athlete with the most Olympic medals ever.  No others can look forward to a congratulatory hug or kiss from the man who invented love and support.”

 

“Shel, I love you.  Thank you for coming and giving me a well-deserved kick in the ass.  I’ll get over to the Fred this afternoon.”

 

After he’d left I picked up the telephone and called Auggie.  I told him, “Auggie, you goofed when you put together that sailing schedule.  You forgot the winter Olympics. They’re from February 7 to 22.  We’ll need to arrive in Nagano, Japan, on the 6th for the Opening Ceremony the next morning, and can leave on the 23rd after the Closing Ceremony the night before.  Get Perry working on the necessary changes.”

 

Auggie replied, “I’ll just assume that this isn’t negotiable, no matter how important a race you’re missing.  But I really don’t think that you’re going to miss anything important.  When I gave you that schedule, I didn’t really think that you’d make every race.  As far as missing the winter Olympics: I made a real fool of myself.  Perry and I’ll fix it.”

 

“Don’t feel bad, Auggie.  I completely forget them as well.”

 

I hate dealing with people who won’t admit their own mistakes–mistakes which we all make.  I’d been pretty sure that Auggie wouldn’t be that kind of person, and I was right.  No harm was done, neither to our racing performance nor anybody’s ego.

 

That afternoon I did walk over to the Fred.  It was damn cold out with a pretty good wind.  I had to put a coat on!  I walked into the Fred and who was there but Fred.  He looked at me and said, “Gee, it must really be cold out; look who has a coat on.”

 

I smiled and said, “It’s a little chilly.”  Then I saw Flip in the small group of skaters sitting and talking with Fred.  I continued, “Hi, Flip.  Can you introduce me to the other skaters here?”

 

“Sure, Tim.  This is my fiancée, Carmine.”

 

“Carmine, Flip’s told me a lot about you.  I’ve seen you skate when I’ve come by the rink, but this is my first chance to get to know you.  I’m delighted.”

 

“I’m so glad to meet you, Dr. Tim.”

 

“Just Tim.”

 

Flip pulled another young lady forward and said, “Tim, this is Bett.  She’s going to get a figure skating medal in Japan, for sure.”

 

Bett said, “Tim, I’m delighted to meet you.  But don’t pay any attention to Flip, I’ll just be glad to walk in the Opening Ceremony.”

 

“I’ve seen you skate as well, Bett.  You’re gorgeous on the ice.  I think Flip may just be correct.  You’re clearly medal material.”

 

Brian and Shel walked up.  Shel said, “Hi, Uncle Tim.  Thanks for coming by.  Well, this little group of four is the North Dakota contingent for the Nagano Olympics.  That is, these’re the ones that’ll be walking in the Opening Ceremony.  I think Fred has reservations for well over hundred for the trip to Nagano.”

 

Bett said, “Over a hundred?  Who on earth...?”

 

Shel said, “If they’re somehow connected to the people you see here, they’re invited.  I think it theoretically could go over two hundred, but not everyone’s going.  Somehow this group just doesn’t attach the importance to the winter games that they do to the summer games.”

 

I accepted his challenge.  I said, “Shel, the ancient Greeks never heard of ice skating.  The games were near Mt.Olympus, not on top of it.  You winter athletes are simply an afterthought.  We all know the real thing takes place in the summer.”

 

Shel countered, “I doubt that any ancient Greek ever saw a diving board, a balance beam, or a set of parallel bars.  Frozen water did, however, exist back then.”

 

Brian started laughing.  He said, “Shel, Tim is just jealous because we get to wear clothes when we compete and he has to compete virtually nude.”

 

He had me there.  I said, “Tell you what, why don’t you four Olympians come to Dakota House for dinner tomorrow night.  If he’s good, Brian, you can bring Shel along, but see if you can keep him on a pretty short leash.”

 

Shel said to the group, “Just in case you didn’t get it, Dakota House, where Tim and Charlie live, is not to be confused with the Dakota Steak House.  Both places serve excellent steaks, but you have to have an invitation to get to Dakota House.  They check you off against a list at the door.  I understand that they call the campus police if you try to get in without an invitation.”

 

Shel is such fun, I could’ve bantered with him for a long while.  But I wanted to see them all skate.  Brian took to the ice first and showed off the  long program that he expected to perform in Nagano.  It was completely reworked from his program of four years ago, much more difficult and more spectacular.  As he ended the program with a spectacular spin, I turned to Shel and asked, “How are you going to top that four years from now in Salt Lake City?”

 

Brian skated up and heard my question.  “Oh, Tim, the program he plans to do at the next nationals is more spectacular than mine.  If he executes perfectly, he’ll beat me.”

 

I asked, “Are you two able to compete on the ice and love off the ice.”

 

Shel said, “I told Brian that I loved him dearly, but that I’d whoop his ass on the ice any time I could.  He assured me that it’d be a different ass that got whooped.  We both accept your teaching, Uncle Tim, that the best man should win, and if somebody doesn’t do his best, he’s cheating the winner.”

 

Carmine said, “Boy am I glad that Flip and I don’t race against each other.  Despite what Shel and Brian say, that would be tough.”

 

Bett said, “OK, you guys, cut that out.  I’d give my eye teeth to have your problem.”

 

Carmine said, “Oh, we’re sorry Bett.  But don’t worry, your true love is out there looking for you, and he’s going to find you.”

 

Shel said, “What makes you think it’s a ‘he’?”

 

Bett said, “He or she doesn’t make a lot of difference, as long as he or she hurries his or her little butt.”

 

Shel said, “I can see it now.  Standing one, two on the ladies figure skating podia in Nagano are the American and Australian figure sensations,  Bett Harper and Joane Carter.  As they descend from the podia we see a little squeeze of the hand that suggests their might be something between them.  At their press conference the next day we’re assured that it was love at first sight.”

 

Bett said, “Oh, Shel, shut up.”

 

“Hey, don’t knock it.  You never know what can happen when you’re under the spell of Olympic magic.”  He turned and looked at Brian, “Don’t get any ideas, lover boy.”

 

The banter would’ve continued, but Bett hit the ice and put on a show almost as good as Brian’s; well, maybe as good.  I’m not a skating judge, and I’m not qualified to say who put on the better show.  But clearly they both were contenders for a medal.

 

Carmine and Flip headed for the long track, where he tried to keep up with her as she sailed around the oval for 3,000 meters–the middle of the three distances she’d race in Nagano.  Her time was 4:11; at least that was as close as we could get with a stop watch.  In a race she’d be timed to within 1/100 of a second.  Flip said, “That’s good, but not your best.  That time will probably get you close to a medal.”

 

Carmine said, “There isn’t much difference between close to a medal and 35th place.  You get to say you walked in the parade.”

 

I said, “Saying you walked in the parade is something that very few people are able to say.  Don’t put it down.  But you’re right, all Olympians are divided into two groups: those that get a medal and those that don’t.  I know you want to be in the smaller group.  All I can say is, ‘Work your tail off’.”

 

Flip said, “I’ll translate.  He means, ‘Work your ass off’.”

 

“University presidents aren’t supposed to talk like that.”

 

“In this group you’re off the record.”

 

“I know, but I’m meeting Carmine for the first time.”

 

Shel returned, “And you want her to think you’re someone different from who you really are?”

 

“Of course, Shel.  I want her to think I’m a suave, debonnaire, gentleman, who wouldn’t think of ever using a word like ass in front of a lady.  Of course, in front of the likes of you, I can use any terminology I want.”

 

“I surrender.”

 

I looked at the group and asked, “So, are all of your families going to make it to Nagano for the big show?”

 

Bett said, “My parents couldn’t believe it when Fred called and introduced himself and insisted that they join his party at the Trials.  And then at the Trials he insisted that they also go to Nagano.  They were embarrassed, but Fred simply wouldn’t take, ‘No,’ for an answer.”

 

Carmine said, “That pretty much describes the conversations with my parents. They initially refused to let Fred pay for their trip to the trials.  Fred told me, and I called them up.  They were planning on going, but were going to pay their own way and make their own hotel reservations.  I know that money’s tight for them, and I simply insisted that they accept Fred’s hospitality.  Besides, I wanted them staying in the same hotel that I was.”

 

Flip put in, “I knew that Granddad would get an invitation, but Fred called my parents as well.  When they got the call from Fred they thought it was some prankster.  I’m not sure how Fred convinced them that it really was Fred Milson, the head of Fred’s Sports, but he did.  They were at the Trials and they can’t wait for the trip to Japan.  It’ll be their first trip outside of North America; quite a first trip, isn’t it?”

 

Carmine said, “It sure is, for all of us.  Tim, how can we thank Fred for his incredible generosity?”

 

I told them, “First of all, you need to understand that it’s Fred’s great pleasure to host his big crowd at each Olympics.  It’s personal, not a function of Fred’s Sports.  He’s been doing this since Charlie and I headed to Mexico for our first Olympics.  You thank him in three ways.  First, you do your absolute best as an Olympian.  Second, you always look and act like the finest young people the State of North Dakota can produce.  And finally, you simply say, “Thank you,” to Fred, and send him a little thank you note after you get home.  He doesn’t want more.”

 

Dinner at Dakota house was quite unbelievable.  They all arrived, and we had hors d’oeuvres and soft drinks in the living room.  We contracted for a cook and waiter from the university food service, so that Charlie and I would be able to be with our guests full time.  The waiter was John Buxner, a junior in recreation and tourism studies.  He was getting a minor in management, and I think his goal was to operate a resort and restaurant.  He considered his work for the food service essentially to be an internship, and he particularly liked working at Dakota House.  He was an excellent waiter, and never intruded on the conversation unless invited.  But when we entertained students we often invited him to sit down and join the discussion after the meal.  His presence did, however, mean that certain subjects that members of the Gang might bring up had to wait until John was gone.

 

After dinner we did invite John to sit and chat with us a little while.  We thought that he might enjoy getting to know these Olympic athletes.  In addition, we knew that he’d traveled in Japan the previous summer and might have some suggestions for our forthcoming trip. His one suggestion was, “When you think about lodging, think Western.  The Japanese sleep on the damnedest thin mats on the floor.  I tried it two nights and made sure that I had an American bed from then on.  I value my sleep, and you kids’ll certainly need the best sleep possible when you’re competing.”  Fred had already thought of that, but we appreciated the thought.

 

John soon headed back to the kitchen to help finish the clean-up, and we headed for the living room, to continue our conversation about the Olympics.  Shel said, “Tim, tell everybody about love and support.”

 

I gave my usual spiel, emphasizing that love and support were Fred’s main motivations for taking the big group to each Olympics.  Shel persisted, “Talk about love.”

 

Hey, I’m not stupid, and Shel was as easy to read as a book.  I asked, “Shel come right out and tell us where this is headed.”

 

“No bullshit, right?”

 

“No bullshit.”

 

“Let’s talk about sex.  Look, there’ll only be the four North Dakotans competing in Nagano, Brian, Flip, Carmine, and Bett.  That means that Brian and Flip’ll be roommates, and Carmine and Bett’ll be roommates in the Olympic Village.  We can bet that Flip and Carmine will find time to be together in some hotel room furnished by Fred.  But let’s talk about the nights in the Village, especially the nights before big competitions.”

 

I asked, “Are you all comfortable with this conversation?  Shel’s pushing this pretty far.”

 

Brian said, “Give him an inch, and I assure you he’ll push it further.”

 

Bett said, “We’ve all gotten used to Shel.  There aren’t many subjects that he hasn’t already brought up, including this one.”

 

Carmine said, “I’d really like to hear you talk about sex and sports, Dr. Tim.”

 

“Carmine, especially when we’re talking about sex, please just call me Tim.”

 

“OK, Tim.  Talk about sports and sex.”

 

“Everyone needs unconditional support to perform their best.  I don’t care whether its as an athlete, businessman, musician, or what.  The businessman that goes home at night to an unsupportive family will be at a disadvantage the next day.  It’s crucially important for athletes, who are constantly performing at the very edge.  In some situations I and other athletes I’ve worked with have found that sex is a good form of unconditional support, as long as it’s genuine love and support and not something forced.  I can assure you that in Mexico and Munich, where Charlie and I were both competing, our relationship was fully sexual and it was essential for both of us performing at the level we did.  But a lot of gold medalists, including ones from North Dakota, have achieved their medals without support in the form of a sexual relationship.

 

“I might also point to Hal Bruder, the marathoner.  He never has sex the night before a marathon; he says that a little sexual tension improves his performance.  But he doesn’t advocate that for everyone, just himself.”

 

Carmine asked, “So you’re suggesting that, if we both are comfortable, Bett and I, who will be roommates, might have a sexual relationship as part of supporting each other for our competitions?”

 

“That just might be true.  It depends on the persons–plural.”

 

Bett said, “The vibes I get from Carmine seem to be positive.”

 

Shel said, “When I was kidding you about finding your true love in Nagano, you didn’t seem averse to it being a woman.  Are you going to be comfortable in bed with Carmine?”

 

Flip said, “Is there any subject that’s out of bounds for Shel?”

 

Brian said, “I haven’t found one.  If you want to get something talked about that embarrasses everyone else, just get Shel talking.”

 

I decided that this would be a good time for Charlie and me to be silent, and we were.

 

Carmine said, “Bett, I would find great mutual support in some level of sexual relationship with you in Nagano.”

 

Bett said, “So would I.”

 

Brian turned to Flip, “Flip, you know I’m gay.  But I also know that you haven’t responded to Shel’s sexual invitations. I don’t want you to feel pushed here.”

 

Flip said, “You know that Shel and I kid around a little.  Other than that, all my sexual experience has been with girls.  But I have eyes, and I’ve seen a lot going on around me, especially with the COGs.  I’m ready to explore.  But I’m not going to make any promises about how that exploration will turn out.”

 

I asked, “Shel’s told you about the Gang and the idea of COGs, I take it?”

 

Shel said, “I sure have, and he’s jealous as Hell.”

 

Flip said, “Exactly.”

 

Shel said, “OK, that’s part one of the love and support story.”

 

Brian said, “And part two would be?”

 

“Support from Tim and Charlie.”

 

Brian was literally shocked at that and raised his voice to say, “Shel.  Behave yourself.”

 

Shel went right on.  “Brian, Tim and Charlie are the core of the Gang.  I’m a COG.  You’ll be a member just as soon as I’m eighteen.  These three are going to be completely mingled with the Gang up to and during the Olympics, and if they choose, they’ll eventually be Gang members.  The conversation that I just started is fitting for these Olympians.  Ask Charlie about Judy.”

 

That triggered a lot of thoughts.  Judy was one sexy diver.  I’d had one sexy evening with her, at her house in Kalamazoo, while Charlie and her parents had done just about everything possible for a threesome.  Shel knew the story, there weren’t secrets in the Gang, and they pretty much extended to the COGs as they got old enough to absorb the stories.  Shel was certainly old enough.

 

But our initial involvement with Judy was almost a quarter-century ago.  We were graduate students at the University of Michigan and she was a student as well.  Bett, Carmine, and Flip were all students at UND.  We had always drawn that line.  Shel, of course, didn’t really understand the concept of lines.  Shel was also age fifteen and all the others were over eighteen.  I needed to apply some brakes.

 

“Shel, you’re underage.  Except for Brian these kids are all UND students.  Much as Charlie and I would like, we don’t engage in sex with UND students.  I can’t change that tonight.  Nor am I going to do anything with Brian until you can be part of it.  Let me make this suggestion.  Take your four friends over to The Hideout.  Brian knows his way around there.  Take them in, show them the master bedroom and shower, and leave them to their own devices.  Then you come back here, we need to talk.”

 

Shel was back in just under an hour.  He knocked on the door and when Charlie let him in he asked, “Am I in trouble?”

 

Charlie said, “You should be, but I don’t think you are.  Tim’s in a good mood.”

 

I heard the exchange, as Charlie had intended.  It was designed as a hint to me to not be hard on Shel.  I wouldn’t have been.  I said to Shel, “If you think you might be in trouble then I don’t need to say a thing.  I’m not mad; I’m not upset; and I’m not, quote, disappointed in you.  You just proved the Gang saying that, ‘Shel is Shel’.”

 

“And my Uncle Tim is my favorite uncle.”

 

“Do let me ask.  Are those four really comfortable in the situation that you just thrust them?”

 

“Yeah, Uncle Tim, they are.  I’m quite certain about Brian and Flip, and Flip assured me that Carmine would be.  I can’t be so certain about Bett, but you heard her this evening.  Did she sound reluctant?”

 

“No, none of them did.”

 

“OK, so much for them.  I have a more serious concern.”

 

“What’s that, Shel?”

 

“Everybody’s been putting me off for sex because I’m not yet eighteen.  By the way, thank God for Auggie.  But I’m only 14 and having all this sex going on around me that I can’t be part of is frustrating.”

 

Charlie asked, “When is your birthday?”

 

“December 15.”

 

“What year do you turn 18?”

 

“2000.”

 

“You’re a junior, right?”

 

“No, I’m a sophomore.  I graduate in 2000 at age 17.  I’ll turn 18 that December, during my freshman year of college.

 

Tim said, “Shel, I’ve been where you are.  I wanted desperately to not only see Charlie but to have sex with him.  I thought I’d burst.  Thank God for Tina, diving and gymnastics.  I feel for you, but there isn’t anything we can do.  You grew up too fast for the calendar.  Now you’re stuck with thinking and acting like an adult, but being legally a child.  You have to thank God for Auggie and others, and for your skating.  And for Brian.  You can see and touch Brian, and I know you push the line pretty far.  That’s OK, but it’s probably best you not provide me details.  Be glad you can hug and kiss Brian, and keep your fly zipped with him.”

 

“I know, Uncle Tim, but it’s frustrating.”

 

“If I were you, I’d be more frustrated by the age rules for skating in the Olympics.”

 

“Believe me, I am.  I just needed to be born a couple of years sooner.”

 

Charlie said, “Why don’t you spend the night with us, Shel?  Of course, you must understand that the standard prize-fighting rules applies.”

 

Shel responded with, “I know.  ‘No hitting below the belt.’  But that implies that I’m likely to be in a situation where I might have to be reminded of that rule.  Am I right?”

 

I knew that Charlie was getting into dangerous territory, but after the few nights that I had spent with him before I was eighteen, I knew he could handle the situation he was bargaining for.  I thought I could as well.  I said, “You’re right.  You know, Charlie is a rather big fellow, getting squeezed between him and me all night might be dangerous.”

 

“I’ll take my chances.  Oh, my God, I don’t believe this!”

 

Charlie led us upstairs and into our bedroom.  He told Shel to strip and then showed him the shower.  Then we stripped and followed him into the shower.  I took a washcloth and scrubbed him from his head to his waist.  Then Charlie scrubbed him from his knees to his feet.  Then he handed Shel the washcloth and told him to finish the job while we watched.  Shel was as hard as a rock and stayed that way through the shower, drying off, and climbing into our big bed.  We put him in the middle where I’m sure that he felt my wiggles and Charlie’s bone, as well as his fingers on his nipples.  But there were no hands below the waist!  We did finally sleep, and the next morning Charlie got us up before our libidos could kick in.  It was a new day, and Shel set out to find Auggie who he was hoping would help him relieve the sexual tension of the night before.  As he left he kissed us both and said, “I love you both.  I can’t believe last night.  Brian won’t believe it either.”

 

Fred, unlike me, hadn’t forgotten about the Nagano Olympics and had, in fact, arranged for very nice lodgings in a small, but quite westernized, hotel  not far from the skating venues–the M-Wave for the long track speed skating and the White Ring for figure skating and short-track speed skating.  [Hey, I didn’t name them.  I suspect a lot got lost in translation.] It hadn’t been possible to arrange the ongoing buffet that Fred liked, but all his guests were urged to use the dining room at the hotel and simply show their room key.  A few of the newcomers to Fred’s hospitality were reluctant at first, but the rest of us assured them that Fred would be offended if he saw them paying for a meal or even heard about it.

 

The group arrived about a week before the Opening Ceremony and had time to (a) practice, practice, practice or (b) see the sights.  Charlie and I and the others on the sailing team arrived on February 6, 1998, the night before the Opening Ceremony, which began the next day at 11:00 a.m.

 

The ceremony opened at the stroke of 11:00 a.m.  The stroke was sounded by the bell at the Zenkoji Temple. The solemn ring of the sacred Buddhist bell symbolized the purification of the souls of all participants, and offered up a prayer for the success of the Games.  Our four skaters all marched together, all holding hands.  I squeezed Charlie’s hand as we watched them.  What wonderful memories that vision evoked.  I turned to Charlie and said, “If all goes well, and we work our butts off, we’ll get one more chance to walk like that.”

 

Charlie smiled and said, “Just one?  Is that a promise?”

 

I said, “Yes, Charlie, it is.  Sailing is fun, and I’m very glad we’re doing it, but we can’t afford another four years shirking our university responsibilities.”

 

“Not to mention little things like age and common sense.”

 

I said, “I can’t deny the age business, but I’ve never claimed common sense when it came to the Olympics.  If I had, I would’ve been lucky to get a couple of bronzes.”

 

“Which, according to you, are just as much to be proud of as golds.”

 

“They are, Charlie, but I can’t deny that I love the glitter of gold.  But I’ve never been unhappy with silver or bronze.”

 

“No, Tim, you haven’t.  I’ll give you that.  And I’ll try my damnedest to give you another medal in two years.  And I’ll even give you that I’m going to try my damnedest to make it gold.”

 

“Thanks, Charlie.  I know you’re sailing for me, and I love you for it.”

 

“I’m not exactly unenthused about the idea of another Olympic medal.  You know, there are damn few two sport Olympians, and even fewer in such widely differing sports as archery and sailing.”

 

“That’s my Charlie.”

 

One of he few things that I remember about the Opening Ceremony was the sumo wrestlers.  I remember wondering what it’d be like to have one on top of you.  Can you imagine sex?  Holy crap!

 

The schedule for the Nagano Olympics was simply perfect for the Gang.  After the Opening Ceremony on Saturday, the first event that involved any of our Olympians was Carmine’s 3,000 meter race on Wednesday.  It gave the non-Olympians a chance to view the luge, snowboading, several skiing events, and the pairs figure skating.  It gave the Olympians a chance to practice, work out, relax, or whatever each of them found best to prepare for competition.  It’s amazing how different their approaches were.

 

Carmine wanted to be on the ice, but moving at a relaxed pace.  Flip wanted to be on the ice–Hellbent for leather.  He argued that going fast was the only way to practice for a race that was won by the fastest person.  Clearly the different lengths raced provide some explanation of the different approaches, but I remain convinced that the real difference was personality.  Flip was simply incapable of skating at any speed other than full throttle. 

 

They were both living–separately–in the Olympic Village, but every afternoon they borrowed a room in the hotel Fred had put us all in, and they pretended to nap for an hour.  On Tuesday afternoon, the day before Carmine’s first Olympic competition, Carmine gently shoved Flip onto the bed and set about removing his clothes, even though it was their usual pattern for each of them to simply take off their own clothes.  When she had him naked she undressed herself.  Then she knelt over Flip, massaged his balls until his dick was quite hard, and rolled a condom down over it.  She lay beside him and whispered, “It’s time.”

 

Flip smiled and said, “I’ve waited a long time for this moment.  Do you want to be on top?”

 

“No, I want you on top of me, and I want that big thing of yours to drill down into me like an air hammer.  Don’t try to spare me, try to drill right through me.”

 

Well, Mr. Hellbent for leather wasn’t actually prepared for that.  A combination of inexperience and concern for Carmine kept him from being the forceful man that Carmine wanted.  He wasn’t far from reaching his own climax when Carmine put her hand up and stopped him.  “Flip, I don’t want a sissy lamb on top of me, I want an angry ram.  I want to know that I’ve been fucked by superman.  Now let go of your inhibitions.”

 

“I could hurt you.”

 

“I’ll worry about that, now let yourself go.”

 

Flip got the message.  He rose up above her, aimed his dick as best he could and came down hard.  Luck was with him, and he shot inside her with ease.  He used his whole weight, grabbed her around the chest and hugged as tight as his strong arms could squeeze, used his legs to raise his ass up and drop it on her with his full weight–again and again.  Carmine reciprocated, bouncing to meet him, hugging him back just as tightly, and fiercely kissing him, boring her tongue inside him.  They shook and thundered until, with a mightly lunge, Flip climaxed and fell on her, exhausted.  After a minute he asked, “My God, that was wonderful, but did you have an orgasm?  I was pushing so hard I didn’t even think about you.”

 

“That is exactly what I wanted.  And for your information, I think I had more than one orgasm.  Oh, Flip, I’ve always dreamed of a man doing that to me.  It was wonderful.  Thank you, thank you.

 

“I can’t believe that’s what you wanted.  I felt I was being very selfish and only thinking of myself.”

 

“You can be that kind of selfish anytime you want.  Now let’s get dressed and take a little walk around Nagano.  I don’t think I want to hit the ice again until warmups tomorrow.”

 

Carmine told the whole story to Bett that evening, explaining why sex wasn’t on their agendas for the night.  Bett responded, “Carmine, I don’t have a boyfriend here; I’m hoping that we can let ourselves go the two nights before my skating.”

 

“Bett, you have a date; no, two dates.  Nobody else is competing your two days, you can have whatever you want, from whomever you want those two nights.”

 

“I just want you; you’ve been so kind to me that I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with the night before.  Carmine, I really am psyched up for my skating.”

 

“Wonderful.”

 

Carmine was psyched up as well.  Her 3,000 meter time the next day was 4:08.47 (four minutes, eight and forty-seven one-hundredths seconds), Good for a silver medal.  The prior Olympic record , 4:11.84, had been set ten years before in 1988, and hadn’t been touched in 1992 or 1994.  In 1998 all three medalists beat the record, but only the gold medalist,  Gunda Niemann-Stirnemann from Germany, got credit for breaking an Olympic record.  She stood proud on the podium, and Flip stood just as proud with us as we listened to the German national anthem.

 

The next day was Brian’s short program.  The night before he and Flip had a long talk about love and support and how sex figured into that.  They agreed that sleeping together, holding each other, and hugging tight was a wonderful experience, but that they weren’t ready for a sexual relationship.  Brian might’ve been, but he felt, quite correctly, that Flip really wasn’t and that pushing Flip would be inappropriate.  In fact, I’m quite sure that Flip could’ve been pushed into just about anything, but Brian was right that pushing him would’ve been inappropriate and counterproductive.  Brian’s performance the next day certainly suggests that whatever they did the night before was the right thing.  Brian wowed everyone, especially the judges.  He came away from the short program with a solid lead.

 

Shel came up to Brian afterwards and said, “You did great, lover.  But there is real danger that you’ll be overconfident going into the long program.  You and I need to do a lot of talking tomorrow, both before and after your practice session in the morning.”  It was fun watching Shel interact with Brian.  If Tim had talked to me that way, I would’ve resented it.  Brian, however, seemed to appreciate it.  He seemed to have a sense that if he would just listen to Shel, everything would work out.  Mind you, Shel was fifteen years old and Brian was twenty-five.  Just how Shel worked his magic was difficult to understand, but we all felt it.  If you met Brian and Shel at a party, you would’ve had a hard time guessing who was the older–except that Shel had very little evidence of a beard.

 

None of our group competed on the two days of Brian’s competition, nor on the day in between.  For that day Fred announced that he had plenty of tickets to see both women’s and men’s curling, “Who wants to go?”  Since Fred was the man with the tickets and those seemed to be the tickets available for that day, most of us went.  I don’t really understand curling.  OK, I can figure out that it’s essentially shuffleboard on ice, but what’s with all this sweeping of the ice?  They seem to sweep the ice for every shot, but isn’t the shot as likely to be too fast as well as too slow?  If so, isn’t the sweeping going to make it worse?  I’ll admit, I didn’t spend a lot of time trying to figure out the game, and I didn’t talk to any of the curlers.  Even so, it’s a strange Olympic sport.  But you gotta love the Canadians for the passion they put into it.

 

Except during the practice session, Brian and Shel kept to themselves on the day between Brian’s performances.  I’ve never had a report on what they did or what they said to each other.  Flip said that Brian came into the room after dinner, saying very little, but eager to cuddle and hug with Flip as they went to bed.  The next morning Brian was his usual talkative self, and he seemed confident and ready for his free skate. 

 

Ready?  Well, I guess.  I don’t know what Shel had said to him, but it was clearly the right thing.  His impossibly difficult program, featuring quads, triples and incredible spins went off without a hitch.  His 5.9 scores (all judges gave him a 5.9 except for two that gave him a 6.0) were attributed to the fact that he skated first in the final group.  It was explained that judges are very reluctant to grade the first skate as perfect, because it gave them no way to say that a later skate was better.  If none was better, then 5.9 would just be the top score of the event.  Except for Brian’s two 6.0s, 5.9 was the top score of the event, and there were few of those.  Brian ran away with the top honors, ,and when they were combined with his lead in the short program, he ran away with the gold. 

 

I wish that there were a way to describe a skating program in words on the page.  You simply had to see it.  Brian was dressed in a very conservative dark green costume that showed off his body and what he was doing with his body.  He tossed off quads like a tumbler tosses off cartwheels.  He saved some of his most difficult moves until the end of the program, which gains you a little with the judges because it’s assumed that you’re more tired then, but Brian didn’t seem the least tired when it was over.  He bowed all four directions to the audience and threw a kiss directly at Shel, who stood up and pretended to catch it.  No way were those two going to be in the closet.  He stood tall on the winner’s podium, and when the “Star Spangled Banner” was over he graciously hugged the Canadian silver medalist and the French bronze medalist.

 

Next up was Carmine again in the 1500 meters.  It was on Monday the 16th, after a Sunday with no North Dakota competition.  This was Carmine’s shortest race, and she was definitely better at the longer distances.  She came in fifth and wasn’t unhappy with that result.  Flip hugged her and assured her that, regardless of this result, she was still a medalist.  Her response: “Thanks for the pep talk, Flip.  But we all know that 5th is losing, and it really doesn’t bother me.  I’m a big girl and can take my lumps.  If I couldn’t, I shouldn’t be in the Olympics and probably wouldn’t be.  You’re next up, and I expect a medal.”

 

Short track speed skating is brutal.  One tiny little mistake and you’re out of the competition: the race is too fast to recover from a fall; a slight bump of another skater gets you disqualified; a crash with another skater puts you both out.  Bingo it’s over and you don’t advance. 

 

The next day Flip was leading in his first qualifying heat in the 1000 meter competition when a skater tried to come past him on the inside during a turn.  Flip’s hand accidently pushed him aside and Flip was disqualified.   Bingo, it was over.  No medal.  Flip took it like a man, making no excuses.  “My hand was where it wasn’t supposed to be and it cost me.”  Carmine was totally supportive, but didn’t try to soft-pedal the loss.  It was tough for Flip.  But, as he said, “It’s the name of the game in short track skating.”

 

The next day, Wednesday, Bett presented her short program in the ladies figure skating.  Hers was a spectacular program, but she took one fall.  Unlike a lot of sports, a fall doesn’t kill you in figure skating.  The slalom skier who misses one gate is out; the racer who falls is out; but figure skating is forgiving.  Bett was fourth at the end of the short program competition.

 

I’m going to jump ahead to Friday for Bett’s long program.  It was fast.  It was beautiful.  It was difficult.  It was flawlessly performed (remember, I’m not a skilled analyst of the sport).  It was spectacular.  It received a thunderous standing ovation.  It was the top scoring long program.  But mathematics is very unforgiving, and combined with the short program score it earned Bett a silver medal.  She lived up to Tim’s tradition of not worrying about the color of the medal.  I don’t see how Bett could’ve been prouder of, or happier about, a gold medal than she was of the silver.  Her congratulations to Tara Lipinski for her gold were profuse and sincere.  She did say that it was very nice to stand on the silver podium and hear the “Star Spangled Banner” played and not a different anthem.

 

On the day between her two performances Flip competed in the 5000 meter relay qualifying round, and the US team qualified, much to his relief.  He also qualified in the 500 meter individual race, again much to his relief.

 

Then we were back to Carmine, in the 5000 meter, run in the afternoon before Bett’s final performance.  Carmine liked to pull Flip’s chain by reminding him that it took four men to race his 5000 meter race, but she did it all by herself.  Did she ever?  Her time was 6:59.61 a new world record and a gold medal all wrapped up in a neat little package.  Oh, man, did the North Dakota crowd cheer itself hoarse over that!  It was the last of Carmine’s races: she ended up with a gold and a silver.  Very impressive.

 

Saturday brought Flip’s final two races: the finals of the 500 meter and the 5000 meter relay.  The 500 meter was first.  The 500 is short, fast, and brutal.  Any mistake, at any point, will almost certainly cost you the race.  Flip started out in the middle of the pack, and for a short while it looked like he might stay there, behind two Koreans and a Japanese.  Then, all of a sudden one of the Koreans slipped and crashed into the other.  It looked like Flip would almost certainly crash into the falling bodies in front of him, but he jumped over a flying leg and cleared the area unscathed.  Not only that, it managed to position him on the outside where he was able to pass the Japanese leader.  Staying in the lead for the last few seconds of the race wasn’t difficult, and Flip held a gold medal.  His comment: “I got a bad break in the 1000 and a lucky break in the 500.  So does that make me a great skater or a lucky skater?  I don’t know.  But I love this glittering gold.”

 

The relay looks like chaos on ice.  Five skaters line up at the starting line with another fifteen in the middle of the ice.  The five skaters who will skate second for each team are soon out in the racing lanes positioning themselves for the handoff.  Each must get ahead of the skater he’s relieving and when the line is crossed the relieved skater gives the new skater a push to send him ahead as fast as possible.  This must be repeated three times during the race.  Considering how often racers fall with just four, five, or six on the ice, it’s a miracle that with ten out on the ice falls aren’t happening every lap.  But they got through the race with no falls and the United States team in second.  Flip had skated last and taken the team from third to second, but his attempt at passing the leader failed.  Silver.  No complaints.

 

North Dakota had done it again.  Four Olympians, six medals, three gold and three silver.  The Fred was truly on the map.

 

The influx of new skaters that came to the Fred as a result of a second Olympics in which its skaters had won medals all out of proportion to their number allowed the Fred, in 1999, to actually show a profit.  Small, but in the black.  Fred Milson was flabbergasted.  “I didn’t ever expect that place to make money.  Don’t worry, it won’t last.”

 

To be continued...

Posted: 12/09/11