I remember my first time watching figure skating with eerie clarity.
February 1994. Like millions upon millions of other people around the world, my 9-year-old eyes were glued to the television to watch the skating competitions during the Olympic Games in Lilllehammer, Norway. I distinctly remember Tonya Harding's skate lace meltdown, Nancy Kerrigan's twinkling beige dress and Scott Hamilton's commentary yelping exuberantly about it all.
I was totally hooked. In the years that followed, I began to obsessively follow every competition and show on TV, filling up hundreds of blank VHS tapes so that I could re-watch Michelle Kwan's every moment of glory whenever I wished. (Oh, the