Tales of a Wanna Be Ice Princess

When I was a little girl, I LOVED ice skating. Or at least the idea of it. Figure skating events were on ABC sports most Sundays in my house, and I grew up in the era of Peggy Fleming and Dorothy Hamill. I still remember watching Dorothy winning the Olympic Gold Medal in 1976 and thinking how fun it all looked. Then they made the book "Ice Castles" into a movie, and I would imagine being Lexie, the main character in the book, flying gracefully around a frozen pond straight into the arms of Robby Benson.

The reality of skating was something completely different, which I found out the hard way the first time I REALLY attempted to skate. I don't remember how old I was, but everything else is as clear as the day it happened.

My brother's cub scout troop went on a skating trip to the University of Delaware ice arena. It probably had something to do with him earning a badge, but all I knew was that sisters and friends were invited and I really wanted to fly gracefully around a sheet of ice and learn to be just like Dorothy Hamill - and this was my chance. So I got on my rented skates, and hopped right out there. For about the first hour, I stayed pretty close to the wall, gradually moving further away, bit by bit, under the watchful eyes of my mother. After two solid hours, I hadn't fallen once. I figured I was born to skate!

Feeling confident, I coasted right out to the middle of the ice to try some turns, which would eventually lead to spins...and then jumps...and then.....it happened. I started to turn, both feet slipped out from under me, and I fell face forward onto the ice, like a snow angel turned over on the wrong side.

After a moment of shock, I got up, got my legs back under me, and skated over to my Mom to see if she saw me thump my face on the ice. I was rubbing my chin, having no idea what happened other than I fell, and getting ready to do the quick report to Mom and head right back out there and try again. And then she uttered the words I will never forget the rest of my life - "Don't drip blood on your jacket!"

That was the point when I started screaming and crying. I remember a very cute male med student laying me down on a picnic table, pulling out a first aid kit, and soon after pronouncing "It looks like this is gonna need stitches." At which point the screaming and crying increased so every last person in that building new I had split my chin open when I fell. And I was off to the emergency room with my mother.

You see, after two hours of solid skating, your face gets a little cold, which turns out to be a good and a bad thing. The good part was that I lost less blood because I was so cold. The bad part is the skin on my chin split open wider than it would have if I was warmer, which meant you could see all the way down to the bone. So after a shot to numb my chin. and black cat gut stitches on the inside AND outside layers of skin performed by an emergency room doctor with a thick foreign accent, I went home...and didn't put on a pair of skates again for about 15 years. I was always too afraid of falling, and I still have the scar to remind me of that day.

So I'll never be like Dorothy Hamill, but I'm old enough now that I can finally conquer my fear of falling and get back out on the ice.



Although you won't find me heading out towards the middle and attempting turns any time soon. Skating in a big circle, close to the boards is fine by me.

And I don't think the NHL needs to worry about me invading either...