Russian Hangover

It’s usually very difficult to find a seat in the Business Class lounge at Moscow's Sheremetyevo Airport. Today is different. Somehow the travel gods are helping me out of this place. In an hour I can send this out  . . . the final post. Then it's 12 hrs 45 min nonstop to LA.

In Sochi this morning it took all of 25 minutes to go from the hotel lobby through security to the Business Class Lounge next to Gate 1.

The adrenalin that has coursed through my veins for nearly 3 weeks has dissipated. The exotic adventure is nearly over. Over at Gate 22 is a big-ass Aeroflot Airbus which will soon take me home.

The Party is over. After tonight’s closing Ceremony, Olympic Park will once again become a Ghost Town. What will they do with 5 giant stadiums in a circle around a flame that will soon be extinguished? What about the enormous International Broadcast Center or the gargantuan Olympic Park Railway station?

The big stadium may become a practice field for the local pro soccer team and host a few games during the 2018 World Cup. But what about all those billions of dollars of purely Olympic infrastructure?

We’ve all heard the stories: The IBC will be a shopping mall (no potential tenants yet). A hockey stadium will be dismantled and rebuilt in Siberia (The city canceled few months ago) . . . .

Russia will have a different hangover than me.

Leaving the Truck last night I took one final look at the sparkling structures of Olympic Park. It will never look like this again. I will never feel like this again.

That's because I directed what will more than likely be my last Olympic figure skating routine. I moved up front from my “overlord” perch back into the Director’s Chair for the last hurrah.

Unless lightening strikes, I will leave 30 years of figure skating behind. It is bittersweet closure. It’s been a great run. I feel lucky. A wave of emotion rolls through my body as my eyes well up with tears.

But the real tears flowed earlier - One last Winter Olympic camera meeting. My family of camera boys were there: Kerry, Nick, Wojo, James, Brownie, Andy, Sam, Gary, and The Wooman. We have been a band of brothers for many years. But it turned into a full-fledged Bon Voyage Party for me. The entire compound of nearly 80 people crammed into our catering tent for the last meeting of Planet Skate. My core crew should be in Rio but this was the end of 32 years of Skates.

Dear friends like Sandra Bezic, Tracy Wilson, Andrea Joyce, Ben Davies, John Roche just smiled at me as my voiced cracked. Through it all the smiling face of my dearest friend, Scott Hamilton, who has helped me through more crises than he will ever know.  Scott kept smiling, his eyes urging me on to be the best I can be.

We have always had traditions for these meetings. Some Directors hand out papers with detailed camera assignments and pictures of the principal coaches and skaters.

They drone on about storylines, almost trying to script a Live show. My philosophy has always been to provide a bit of direction, lay out a few possible "wobblies" . . . but let these men do what they do best. Capture the magic and tell the story.

I trust them to deliver at every turn. We can talk, plan and make a thousand formats but guess what ????. . . an actual competition is going to break out. Bringing the essence of the beauty, drama and telling the story of the event is what we do. . . . All of us together. We push each other to a higher plane.

Our mission is to capture the moments, take the viewers to places they can never imagine. My gang of assassins are the best in the business on every sport. In an age where the crew is treated like disposable pieces, I have tried to keep the core together against all odds. They have rewarded me with true fulfillment . We are specialists and this is the most powerful group I have ever known.

One of our Olympic traditions is to connect to the place we are working. I realized over these few weeks that the boys had been working far too many hours to explore the Russia that surrounded them.

In Vancouver Billy Rapaport and I brought in 3 native tribal leaders to bring their culture and to bless our compound and crew. We were energized.

In Beijing I ordered a 40 foot Chinese banner urging the Crew to adhere to the spirit of the Olympic movement. Those Meetings were called together by a giant symphonic Gong on loan from The Beijing Symphony, When the Gong rang it was time for Tai Chi to rid ourselves from evil.  Collective physical activity and touching is important.

In Torino we danced the Hora in the parking lot.

In London we formed the Knights of the Round Table and each day crowned a new King.

Last night we heard from the Head Man of the Sochi Circassian community.

Before we left I wanted the crew to get a taste of the real Caucasus . . . Not some crazed Chechen or other professor of violence. No it was time to meet a man of peace. The leader of the people who had been murdered and sent to exile by Tsar Alexander II. It was on top of the bones and heartache of his ancestors that we celebrated the Olympics. He was a man who understood that the Olympics promoted peace and goodwill. He believed in the New Russia.

After he talk we cranked up the volume on a Circassian song “Bital Ivanov.” We all danced together, shouting “hey” while our Circassian host clapped along. I looked into the eyes of these people . . . not a dry eye was visible.

Then we all laughed about the fact that in less than 6 days we would all be together at the American Cup Gymnastics meet in North Carolina.  A very different world . . . but the same TV Family.

So it’s time to close this blog. It has been great fun. It’s kept me sane over the past few weeks.

I want to take an opportunity to thank all my readers, especially those who offered kind comments and urged me to write every day. I started this as a little blog for Cathy, Megan, Andrew and Jake. Cathy, being the President of my Fan Club leaked word on Facebook. Megan and my cousin Debbie Hamburg followed suit. Good friends like the Binghams in Utah. John Roche, Kerry Burke, Wojo and John Gonzalez lent support which really kept me going. The first blog had 5 page views after the first day. This afternoon page views approached 19,000.

The Aeroflot Airship beckons . . . . .