Figure Skating: I’m More Suited for the Olympics – Chapter 118 – Coach Lu

“You started skating at three and a half, but you officially started lessons with me at four. Back then, you were particularly chubby and nicknamed ‘Big Jue’ and ‘Big Fat’. During the first class, you and your neighbor ‘Fat Two’ used chalk from who knows where to draw Sailor Moon on the wall.”

The Sailor Moon drawing was an eyesore to all innocent passersby.

“When you were six, you completed your first 2A on land, but I didn’t allow you to practice it on ice, fearing your bones couldn’t handle it. You made faces and smacked your butt at me, only to be seen by your mother, who dragged you to the rink’s edge and gave you a spanking. The music playing in the rink at the time was Celine Dion’s ‘My Heart Will Go On,’ and the rhythm of your mom spanking you matched the music perfectly.”

Zhang Jue’s hands started shaking again.

“When you were seven, you completed a 2Lz+2T combo jump. Then, while trying to pick your nose mid-jump, you fell and cut your chin, bleeding a lot. I carried you to the hospital, and you got five stitches.”

Despite his high talent, Zhang Jue was always the most injury-prone during training. His talent and bravery made him the daredevil who tried every move in Coach Lu’s eyes.

Coach Lu taught Zhang Jue for four years, spent four years frustrated with him, and cleaned up his messes for four years. It’s no wonder Coach Lu couldn’t forget young Zhang Jue, as he was the most troublesome student he had ever taught.

It’s not just Coach Lu, every teacher who taught Zhang Jue remembered the mischievous kid and his slightly chubby mom who wielded a drying rack.

If Zhang Jue were just talented, Coach Lu would only regret his departure from figure skating. But Zhang Jue was also a constant troublemaker, always causing mischief. So, when he quit figure skating, Coach Lu felt a mix of regret and relief, thinking: “Maybe he won’t die young after all.”

If Shen Liu, Zhang Junbao, and Song Cheng knew Coach Lu’s thoughts, they’d probably shake his hand with teary eyes, feeling a deep kinship.

But a misconception is a misconception because, one day, Zhang Jue and Coach Lu were bound to cross paths again.

Zhang Jue covered his face: “Stop, stop! I admit you’re Coach Lu!”

After a series of proofs, mainly consisting of Coach Lu clearly and logically recounting Zhang Jue’s dark history, Zhang Jue finally admitted that the chubby old man in front of him was indeed his childhood figure skating coach.

This shadow of Zhang Jue’s childhood, who had countless times numbed his ears with lectures to get him to practice basic moves and had the authority from Zhang Qingyan to “spank his butt as needed,” was Lu Zhaosheng, born in 1942.

Coach Lu had a good background. His mother was from a Chinese merchant family in Southeast Asia, and he was sent to the U.S. to study, where he encountered ski jumping. He had a promising future, but a broken bone in his sophomore year ended his ski jumping career, and he later joined the university’s ice hockey team.

Ice hockey, known as the toughest ice sport, allowed fighting as part of the game. Teams even recruited players skilled at fighting to protect their star players. In non-professional leagues, fights were even more brutal. Due to his skin color, Coach Lu was the team’s designated enforcer, fighting until he was in his thirties before inheriting the family business and returning to support China’s sports industry. In the 1980s, he trained many ski talents in China. Near retirement, he started a beginner skating class in H City, teaching children.

Zhang Junbao, Shen Liu, and Zhang Jue all built their basics under him. The first two were recognized for their solid foundations when they joined the provincial team. Zhang Jue was a bit wild and didn’t have a solid foundation, but his jumping techniques were internationally recognized.

They also shared a common trait: a stubborn personality and a fierce spirit in critical moments, likely influenced by Coach Lu, a former ice hockey enforcer.

Zhang Jue once threw a tantrum, refusing to continue figure skating and vowing never to attend Coach Lu’s classes again. That was when he was eight. Seven or eight years later, Zhang Jue realized the price of a weak foundation and understood Coach Lu’s tough love.

So, the former teacher and student chatted amicably.

Coach Lu sighed with Zhang Jue: “Your talent was so evident that I was particularly strict with you, hoping you’d become a world-class athlete one day. That strictness was indeed heavy for a child.”

Zhang Jue hurriedly replied: “Not at all. You could have been even stricter. I know my personality well, I needed it.”

Given his mischievous nature as a child, without his mother’s drying rack discipline, Zhang Jue might have caused even more trouble.

For example, in second grade, if his mother hadn’t noticed early, Zhang Jue might have taken ‘Fat Two’ to play by the reservoir.

By the way, ‘Fat Two’ couldn’t swim, so the risk of drowning was exceptionally high. Thinking back as an adult, Zhang Jue broke out in a cold sweat for ‘Fat Two.’ With his weight, Zhang Jue couldn’t have saved him if he sank.

Zhang Jue learned from Coach Lu that he was now working part-time at this commercial ice rink. He said it was better to stay active than to be idle at home during retirement.

The old man sighed with Zhang Jue: “As I get older, I attend more friends’ funerals every year. Life gets lonelier. Watching kids being mischievous is better, but now I can’t chase after them anymore.”

Zhang Jue, once chased, sincerely replied: “It’s good to stay active. Being able to eat and move keeps you energetic.”

The next day, Zhang Jue returned to the rink after his class.

Wearing a mask and a hat, he mainly practiced gliding and occasionally spinning. As a right-handed skater, he used to spin and jump counterclockwise. Now, with his right foot stiff, he switched to clockwise.

Yes, a right-hander practicing left-handed skills.

It was quite challenging. Zhang Jue used to think clockwise skaters were average, but now he realized the difficulty.

He tried a 1A clockwise for the first week and succeeded in landing after three days. In the second week, he attempted a double jump, which took five days.

For others on the rink, a double jump in two weeks was a clear sign of talent. While athletes might find 3+2 combos technically insufficient, amateurs mastering a 2A were already impressive.

Coach Lu guided Zhang Jue’s skating during this period.

“As a former top-tier athlete, your skating talent wasn’t bad. But you always managed to fall flat for various reasons.”

“First, your joints are overly flexible, yet you lack strength. Without good basic skating training, you lose control of your overly flexible joints. Secondly, you’re too impatient; you always choose speed over stability. Lastly, you lack jump height, so to make your jumps look better and get higher GOEs, you skate as fast as possible to gain distance.”

These three factors combined resulted in Zhang Jue’s high speed but often sloppy and uncontrollable skating.

Coach Lu’s advice was to slow down, follow the music’s rhythm, and perfect the required figures with meticulous effort.

Since Zhang Jue was recovering from a severe injury and wasn’t competing anymore, he didn’t need to undergo intense jump training as before. Spending time on skating was acceptable.

Zhang Jue had the patience to follow his advice. Since he was already on the ice and couldn’t jump frequently, he focused on other aspects.

Regarding Zhang Jue’s spinning axis issue, it was even easier to address. In competitions, accelerating during a spin change is a bonus. So, Zhang Jue had to use centrifugal force to accelerate while maintaining his spinning posture. Now, he abandoned speed in his spins and concentrated on his axis.

Coach Lu said: “I told you when you were five that you must focus on your body’s center of gravity at a single point during spins, but you didn’t listen. Thus, your initial spinning technique was flawed. Now that you’ve developed and lost your original center of gravity, establish a new one and practice slowly.”

Coach Lu’s training wasn’t exhausting. He occasionally gave Zhang Jue pointers and then taught other kids. Yet, each instruction precisely addressed Zhang Jue’s weaknesses.

Following his method for a month, Zhang Jue found his spinning axis much steadier. At least, he no longer deviated by over 10 cm during spins. Even with excellent flexibility and clean Biellmann spins, judges would only award him level 3 if his axis was off.

However, Zhang Jue didn’t understand why Coach Lu still guided him, a once rebellious student. Frankly, if Zhang Jue had such a mischievous student who eventually quit, he’d have long given up on them.

Maybe as Coach Lu aged, his temper softened?

Since Zhang Jue started frequenting this commercial ice rink, he noticed many mischievous kids in the beginner’s class. Yet, compared to him back then, they were all well-behaved, and Coach Lu treated them kindly, like a benevolent old man.

When Coach Lu trained Zhang Jue, he was a strict disciplinarian. His roars could make Zhang Jue’s ears buzz.

Of course, after getting scolded, he’d continue being naughty. Coach Lu’s slim figure back then might have been due to burning too many calories roaring at the mischievous kids.

After practicing for over a month, around September, some B-level competitions began. Athletes earned points and rankings in these competitions, which counted towards the season’s overall rankings and prize money.

These B-level competitions offered points and prize money for medals, had low entry barriers, and many athletes used them to adjust their form early in the season. One example was the Nebelhorn Trophy.

During an Olympic year, everyone would be highly motivated. Moreover, many 15-year-old female skaters were moving up to the senior level.

For instance, Xu Chuo, who had a growth spurt fracture and announced her recovery in August, resumed training for a month before heading to Oberstdorf, Germany, with her program.

Another was Japan’s new top senior skater, Shiratsuka Keiko, who had fully developed and was widely considered a strong contender for the Sochi Winter Olympics podium.

Germany is seven hours behind China, so Zhang Jue didn’t watch the live broadcast at dawn. Instead, he watched the fans’ recording the next morning and saw that Shiratsuka Keiko scored just 1.5 points shy of a world record in her short program.

Meanwhile, Xu Chuo ranked 19th in the short program.

Her triple Lutz edge control was entirely off, and the judges penalized her for unclear edges. Her second jump in the combination was clearly under-rotated, likely due to the changes in her weight and height affecting her strength, preventing her from rotating fully.

Two girls who were evenly matched in the junior ranks performed vastly differently in the senior ranks.

Kiss & Cry is named for the emotions it witnesses—athletes and coaches’ joy and sorrow. They embrace and kiss in happiness and cry in pain.

Unable to bear her score, Xu Chuo lowered her head and cried.

Zhang Jue watched this, unsure whether to feel heartbroken, shocked, or resigned. It was Liu Yeming’s birthday, and the young man had invited his coach and teammates for dinner. Zhang Jue brought knee pads as a gift and saw Zhang Junbao with dark circles under his eyes, holding a can of coffee. Though he smiled naturally, Zhang Jue knew his uncle wasn’t in high spirits.

He signaled to Shen Liu.

What’s going on?

Shen Liu, playing with his phone, sent a message to Zhang Jue.

Brother Shen: Stayed up to watch the Nebelhorn Trophy live. After the competition, called Xu Chuo, who cried the whole time. Comforted her until 3 AM. Xu Chuo’s mom said if she doesn’t do well in nationals and doesn’t make the Olympics, she’ll have to retire and focus on preparing for high school entrance exams.

Zhang Jue: Wow, what a gem of a mom!

Another message followed.

Brother Shen: Coach Zhao agrees. She thinks Xu Chuo’s low bone density makes her prone to injury. Although good nutrition and systematic treatment can improve bone density, any weight gain ruins her jumps. So, continuing might not be worth it.

Zhang Jue: …Are you kidding? Xu Chuo’s low bone density is definitely related to you and her mom making her diet excessively during puberty. Now that she’s developed, you’re just giving up?

At least learn from my uncle! Back then, even when I grew 3 cm a month, he kept training and encouraging me, saying: “As long as you don’t give up, I’ll always support you.” As a coach, after training someone for so long, offer some comfort during crucial times!

No wonder Xu Chuo called my uncle, her former coach, to cry. Given the situation, who wouldn’t seek a kind person for comfort? Even Zhang Jue would…

No, Zhang Jue wouldn’t have dieted to the point of brittle bones. As a rebellious kid who couldn’t be controlled by his uncle, the provincial head coach, or former national champion coaches, he’d follow his own plan on such crucial issues.

Hmph, all these years, only Coach Lu could make Zhang Jue listen and sometimes change his mind.

Naughty Zhang Jue wore a smug “I’m awesome” expression.

Liu Yeming asked: “Zhang Jue, want some cake?”

Zhang Jue quickly refused: “No, thanks. It’s nighttime, and I’m prone to gaining weight. Eating will make me fat.”

The table was full of athletes. Though Zhang Junbao was a coach, maintaining 10% body fat showed his self-discipline. Liu Yeming didn’t ask him.

So, the eight-inch cake mostly ended up in Shen Liu’s stomach. As a former athlete with a big appetite who didn’t mind eating more for his students’ sake, he finished most of it.

 

Support translation:

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