A Round of 'What Ifs' | Winter Olympics Day 2
Team Abovian Union fails to capitalize on opportunities; AOC says 'chin up and onwards'
Day 2 of competition at the Clayquot Olympic Winter Games seemed a promising day on paper for Team Abovian Union, with the women's speed skating team making their short track debut, Miikka Solveig-Sikk soundly seeking self-superation in the men's individual luge event, and the long awaited alpine skiing debut of legends Markku Salonen and Jari-Matti Talvela. While there were some pleasant surprises, the delegation's hopes rested on the wrong shoulders, leaving some athletes scratching their heads into the rest day.
Expectations were modest for short track duo Ilka Sohlberg and Emi Kaltakari, perhaps more so for the Nykipik. Though Sohlberg, expected to be the quicker of the two, slipped in the 500m race, Team Abovian Union was elated to see the young Nykipik star, the youngest athlete on the team at just 17 years of age, qualify through the first round in a tightly contested heat. Her efforts would last just until then, however, as elimination in round two took her out of the running. Still, for Kaltakari, making her competitive debut outside her native Nykipiflugpuu, simply showing up would have been enough to see her content; qualifying past round one was almost a dream come true.
Glory wouldn't be reserved for Team Abovian Union in men's individual luge, though. Miikka Solveig-Sikk, after a very promising start with one of the quickest overall first runs, had maybe overachieved in his first attempt, still keeping a quick pace throughout the final two runs but falling down the order from eleventh to seventeenth. Harri Pietiläinen, down in 73rd place after a mistake-filled first run, made up two places on run three, but Nykipik Urmo Aleksanteri dropped two further places from 74th to 76th.
Alas, the disappointment hadn't quite finished yet. Markku Salonen and Jari-Matti Talvela of Team Abovian Union's alpine skiing team were among the most anticipated competitors of the games for Abovians, their domestic status as kings of their disciplines fuelling hopes of a first Olympic medal for the Abovian Union with their name on it. It would turn out that the outcome in men's downhill was quite the opposite, with both skiers failing to finish their runs after setting promising pace in practice. Talvela, his surname ringing a warm bell in the minds of Abovians, was caught out on landing one of the large jumps at the Bear's Paw, straying off course and tumbling into the snow, while Salonen's run had barely started when he clipped and tripped over one of the gates, his attempts at saving his fall futile, and Team Abovian Union's medal hopes in men's downhill swiftly neutered.
The Abovian Olympic Committee's decision to field few entries in the Games means that women's alpine skiing team of Sigrid Storstrand, Inger-Lovise Tidemand and Nykipik Kyllikki Brynildsen will sit out the giant slalom event on day 3 of competition. The figure skating team event, so far a tale of highs and lows for Team Abovian Union, resumes on Sunday, while Angela Haraldsen and Hanna von Wouters are slated to debut in women's ski jumping. All eyes, however, rest on day 4 of action, with women's luge and men's super combined alpine skiing carrying Team Abovian Union's medal hopes once more.
Emi rolled her shoulders as she glided across the ice, warming up for her Olympic debut in the 500m short track event: Sami's favorite. She was up in the first heat, against eventual finalist Teng Xiulan, dressed in her Team Abovian Union suit that was just like his: navy blue, textured around the abdomen, sleeves in white, and shoulders in green, the gold-bordered Abovian Olympic Committee logo over her heart embedded in the spandex.
He'd actually never spoken with Emi, and barely ever actually seen her; skating head coaches Henri and Sonja Makkaransemakker, husband and wife, of the men's and women's teams respectively, had apparently been advised by the AOC to bring the skating team together in the short track and long track events, to "foster the team spirit." In practice, as Sami had begun to realize--no less, after his close-but-no-cigar run in the 1500 meter race the day prior--the team was hardly more than just a handful of people joined in name only. The AOC's formation of Team Abovian Union, promising to assemble a small yet dedicated delegation to represent Aboveland for the first time, and adamant to keep expectations modest, had been hasty and amateurish at the very best. The whole skating team--he, RIsto, Miikka, Ilka, Emi, and Kuldar--had been notified of their selection by the AOC just two months before the games, and coaches Henri and Sonja were appointed a month after that. The winter in Aboveland this year had, luckily, been particularly rough, enough for lake Kylmajärvi, the usual proving ground for short and long track events in western Aboveland, to freeze up into two meter thick ice, and after much solo, unsupervised practice the male Abovians were called to Kylmajärvi as soon as the coach was appointed, to train before the games.
As he then recalled, the Nykipiks, Emi and Kuldar, along with Ilka, had been absent from training. He'd always figured Sonja had been the one to coach them back in Nykipiflugpuu, and could have justified their absence with the ongoing inclement weather battering the Abovian Peninsula, but as he sat in the Portage Center, glancing over at a glaring, perpetually cross-armed, permanently furious, bitter-looking--yet peculiarly alluring--Kuldar Kaltakari, the athletes' omission somewhat poked at his insides. Still staring at Kuldar--the long track-competing Nykipik oddly (for a Nykipik) taller and stronger built than himself, and only a little older; 20 to his 19--a voice rung out in the stadium, reverberating off the solid walls and signalling the start of the race. The Nykipik untucked his hands from beneath his arms, and as he walked towards the separating wall, a golden twinkle reflected off of his chest caught Sami's eye. He was wearing the Nykipik flag; as the Abovian diverted his attention to his younger sister, crouched at the start line and with both her hands on her visor, he saw she wasn't.
The athletes were quickly introduced, and the race began almost surprisingly quickly with the sound of the starting pistol; cross-armed next to the ice rink were Henri and Sonja, and Kuldar somewhat further to the side, his chin perched on one of his hands supported by his opposite arm.
Emi's start was instantaneous, but not as quick as those of her rivals; the women's team was more adept to the longer 1000m race, and the brevity of the 500m event made mistakes costlier and harder to overcome.
By the first lap, the Nykipik had fallen to last place, yet was just within striking distance of the leading peloton. Her heart beat like a policeman thundering his fist on a door, like a hundred strikes of a judge's gable every minute, her eyebrows morphing to the shape of the sweat pooling above her eyes.
Her lines, at first, were slightly wide, but as the race inched nearer to its end she tidied up her act, leaning closer to the surface, skimming her glove-clad fingertips over the ice on the inside and taking just one cheeky peek at the glassy surface to stare through her visor at herself: reflected on the floor, the floodlights painting her silhouette, straight from small town Timantirkas to the big leagues. Into the second corner, she tucked as close to the inside as possible, crouching behind her rivals ahead to slip easier through the air; aided as well by her small frame, she glided past third place in the slip stream of Mari Magna, then immediately dove inside the next corner past her assisting rival. Holding her own through the final lap, she crossed the line in second place, qualifying for the second round.
Her arms leapt as if possessed into the sky, her hands turning into pumping fists, then one resting on her visor while the other patted her heart over the logo of the AOC. Sami, who'd found himself standing on the tips of his toes as the final lap began, was also ecstatic, his excitement echoed to a slightly less energetic extent by his Abovian teammates. Though nobody wanted to admit it, unknown Emi would never have been on anybody's betting cards going into the race, and yet somehow, with minimal preparation, she'd passed the first stage. To her, it felt like enough of a win.
As she clambered out of the rink, ecstatic, she avoided the incoming Sami Katjamäki--entirely out of shyness rather than antagonism--and headed straight for coach Sonja's open arms. Sami, somewhat puzzled by Emi's deliberate dodge, winced, less at her reaction and more at his own over-eagerness. Sonja received her with open arms, giving the young Nykipik an almost motherly hug and a hearty, encouraging pat on the back, as if saying 'okay, relax, stay cool, don't back down yet'.
Turning to Kuldar, her older brother refused to uncross his arms, though his expression had relaxed. She hugged him, but he very coldly simply placed his hands on his back until she realized something was off.
"The pin," Kuldar hissed, pointing at the Nykipik flag on his chest, his face failing to hide his annoyance. "You didn't wear the pin."
Emi's shoulders dropped. She stared at him displeasingly, her pupils bordering the top of her eyes to meet his over half a foot above. "What's the point?" she moaned, sighing through her teeth. Her moment of ecstasy had quickly disappeared.
Kuldar crouched to meet her eyes more level. "You're here to represent Nykipiflugpuu," he whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings to see if he was within earshot of someone who could get him in trouble, pulling Emi towards him and away from Sonja and Henri. "Not Sparkswood, not Aboveland, Nykipiflugpuu." He grabbed her hand, not violently, and thrust the pin enamel side down into her palm, closing her fingers on top of it. "And if they won't represent us, it's up to ourselves."
Emi frowned, but Kuldar continued, even quieter and closer to her ear than before. His voice was menacing, but not believably so, as if hiding remorse. "It's the only thing they ask; they've already realized you didn't wear it in the opening ceremony, and they're pissed. Don't get me into trouble, and wear the fucking pin."
Her expression was no longer serene and infantile, her eyes now somber and her heart beating in an entirely different manner. She nodded, quietly, and held the pin in her hand, promising she'd put it on before the next heat. She was too nervous now to meet with the Abovians, but Sami, who'd waited inconspicuously for her to finish her exchange with her brother, waved from his seat and stuck two smiling thumbs up, his eyes conveying gleeful surprise and a twang of pride. Emi smiled back, nodding.
Ilka was up later, in her own qualifying heat. By then, Emi had shuffled from beside Kuldar to between Sonja and Henri and the rest of the spectating Abovian team, hunched over the side wall like her coaches, cheering on her teammate with whom she'd trained a month prior to the olympics. Poor Ilka, she recalled, had felt completely out of her element in Nykipiflugpuu; the locals hadn't been rude, nor friendly either. Unfortunately, yet to the surprise of the whole team, she slid wide on her last couple of laps and fell back from an early lead to third, knocked out in qualifying. Her face expressed disappointment, but she wasn't completely devastated. Like Emi, she still had two more shots, at 1000m and Mass Start.
Until the second round, the Nykipik still hadn't approached the Abovians, bar Ilka after her own run. As she waited for the rest of the competitors to take their positions, she clutched the pin she'd been holding in her fist and attached it, reluctantly but hiding it, next to the Abovian Olympic Committee logo. She shot a look at her brother, whose face showed approval and, to a greater extent, relief. Her start, however, was lackluster, worse than the first time around, and this heat her nerves became a self fulfilling prophecy rather than a spur to excel. She'd exceeded her own expectations already, but just like that she was out in round two, coinciding with the use of the stupid little pin.
As overprotective Kuldar had relaxed a tad, she felt free to meet the Abovians after her heat, this time everyone bar her older brother huddling around to pat her helmet and congratulate her on her performance, regardless of the result. Once the contingent had cleared, only Sami remained.
"Great job!" he exclaimed, the extra time he'd had to think of a more unique congratulatory message gone to waste. "I... don't think we've met before, actually." He held out his arm in a v-shape, confidently offering his hand. "I'm Sami... You probably knew as much, though."
Emi clapped her hand against his, gleaming with joy and excitement. Of course she knew who he was. "Emi," she replied, chuckling. Unlike her brother, she was fluent in Abovian, so the conversation, short or not, wouldn't be impeded by anything else than their--or her--nerves.
"What's your room number?" Sami inquired, as the two sat down beside the rest of the team, sans Kuldar, watching the rest of the event intently. "We might be neighbors!"
