Abbey's Road: 'Little Guys' don't have to be championship-caliber to be beloved skaters

This past week, the U.S. Figure Skating Championships took place in Columbus. It was presumably the closest this caliber of skaters will come to our hometown in…I’m going to say quite some time. (Unless the Olympics are planned to take place in the Buckeye State at some point in the future, which I’m deeming unlikely.)

Since our family of five is made up of 60 percent figure skaters, this monumental event was not a thing to be overlooked. Several friends from our local ice rink had tickets to attend the events; a couple even were chosen to serve as “sweepers,” skating out between performances and picking up all the stuffed animals that were thrown onto the ice. A number of them posted impressive selfies with big-name performers, and while our family couldn’t be there in person, we made a ritual of gathering around the television during the evenings of the events to watch these tremendous athletes compete.

I don’t know what it takes to become an elite figure skater or an elite athlete of any type, for that matter. Lots of time, dedication, talent and the list goes on. I’m certain most of these men and women got their start on skates shortly after they mastered taking steps; maybe they did both at the same time. I love to watch their grace and athleticism, and I admire them for all they’ve achieved.

But you know what I like even more?

Watching the ones who will never make it to a national championship.

Don’t get me wrong: I love the finesse and apparent ease and precision that I witness when Ilia Malinin performs a quad axel on a whim. I will never not “Ooh” and “Aaah” at performances that, in my book (which admittedly was written with lower standards than the one the judges use), is perfection.

But when the TV’s been turned off and it’s a regular Saturday morning and I’m in the cold bleachers with my fellow skater moms talking about how our kids are working on nailing their sit spins — which, if you’ve never seen one, look painfully slow and clumsy compared to the professionals’ — I’m actually in my happy place.

More: U.S. Figure Skating Championships: Madison Chock and Evan Bates win fifth national title

Right now at our rink there are at least a dozen skaters in the level where they’re trying to land their first axel. And while the pros — who, in many cases, are the same age or a few years older than our kids — are out there pulling off doubles, triples and quadruples like it’s a walk in the park, these kids and teens may spend years working to land just one.

Sometimes they get there, sometimes they don’t.

But when they do — well, you just have to be there.

The cheers, the hugs, the elation, the celebration: because they’re on the journey together, and they know it’s a big deal. Might not seem like it compared to the Big Guys, but it is.

These are the things I love about the Little Guys.

They signed up for the sport because they thought it sounded interesting, or maybe they saw a Big Guy on TV and thought, “I’d like to try that.”

Maybe they’re not blessed with Olympic genes or the resources to afford endless hours of training or even the grit that it takes to make it as far as the elite do; it doesn’t matter, they’re in it because they love it.

And I love it because they love it.

In figure skating, my girls have learned poise and grace and stamina. They have learned about the importance of teamwork and accepting constructive criticism and pushing themselves beyond what they believe they’re capable of doing. They’ve become more graceful, more flexible and more confident than they'd have been without.

More than that, they’ve found a community of friends, parents and coaches who lift them up and cheer them on, whether they perform a personal best or have the worst day ever.

And isn’t that what we all really want at the end of the day?

I don't actually need an Ilia or an Amber; I have three happy girls surrounded by people who love them, and I am more than content to be among them.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at [email protected], but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Figure skating championships a reminder of the joy of the sport