Double-Axel Doubt
Page 2
Gabby skated in a large warm-up circle around the outside of the rink. Then she nodded at Coach Pearce to show that she was ready.
Coach Pearce started the music. Gabby closed her eyes, trying to feel the rhythm she would need. Fear started to creep through her, but she tried to keep her mind blank.
Don’t think, she told herself. Just don’t think. She neared the center of the rink and moved into a toe loop followed by a sit spin.
Gabby swung her body around and began skating backward around the ice. She increased her speed — faster and then faster again. She hadn’t skated this fast since the day of the fall. Gabby could feel her pulse pounding. The music grew louder and faster.
“Now!” Coach Pearce shouted. “Double Axel, now!”
Gabby bent her knees and stretched her arms out to her sides. She pushed off the ice hard, launching her body into the air. She drew her arms into her body, and for a moment, her heart soared as she spun through the air.
Then her right skate tangled with her left. She felt herself coming out of the air much too quickly.
Falling, her mind screamed. Falling. She didn’t have time to unwind her body. The ice seemed to rise up to meet her. She fell with a thud, landing on her side.
Gabby gasped, trying to breathe, but the fall had knocked the wind out of her. She lay on the ice for a few moments, trying not to panic.
As soon as she was able to breathe again she raised herself onto her hands and knees, her head down. In the corner of the arena, Coach Pearce stopped the music, and silence filled the ring.
CHAPTER 6
DO YOU WANT TO WIN?
It had happened again. Another hard jump, another hard fall. Shakily, Gabby stood up. She brushed ice off her warm-up tights. She felt sick to her stomach.
Coach Pearce walked over. “Are you all right, Gabrielle?” she asked.
Coach Pearce checked Gabby’s neck and shoulders for injuries. “Turn your head,” she ordered. Silently, Gabby turned her head side to side.
Coach Pearce felt Gabby’s arms and ankles. “Nothing broken,” she said. She walked back to the side of the ring and turned the music back on. “Start again, please. Toe loop, sit spin, double Axel.”
Gabby panicked. She couldn’t try the double Axel again. Her mind raced. What if I fall again? What if I get hurt again? She stood, frozen, in the middle of the ice.
“Did you hear me?” Coach Pearce asked. “Begin the routine again.”
Gabby still didn’t move. Coach Pearce came toward her. Her gaze was intense. “What is going on here?” she demanded.
Gabby drew in her breath. “I’m so sorry, Coach Pearce,” she managed to say. “I can’t do the jump again.” She stared down at the scuffed toes of her skates.
“And why is that?” Coach Pearce asked.
Gabby swallowed. “I, um, don’t feel like I’m ready for that hard of a jump,” she said. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll just do the single Axel.”
Coach Pearce shook her head. “I’m afraid that is not going to be good enough,” she said. “You’ll never be a winner if you won’t do the double. Single won’t cut it.”
Gabby bit her lip.
Coach Pearce came close and put a hand on Gabby’s shoulder, looking directly into her face. “You can do this jump,” Coach Pearce said. “It’s nerves that are getting in your way, not skill. Look, do you want to win?”
“Yes,” Gabby almost whispered.
“Then you will do the jump,” Coach Pearce said. She turned and walked to the side of the arena.
“Practice is over for today,” she called over her shoulder. “Be ready to do the double Axel tomorrow morning.”
Outside, the fresh air felt cold on Gabby’s face. She walked home slowly, avoiding the puddles on the sidewalk. Her feet felt heavy as she climbed the front steps of her house.
Her mind was filled with images of Coach Pearce’s angry face and herself, crumpled on the ice. Suddenly, another image filled her mind — herself twirling in the air, arms drawn in close, then landing the double Axel perfectly as the crowd cheered.
Gabby walked upstairs to her quiet room and sank down on the bed, burying her face in her hands. She sat that way for a long time, trying to decide what she should do.
Several minutes later, Gabby raised her head. Coach Stone would know what to do. Just because she’s not my coach anymore doesn’t mean she can’t still help me out, Gabby thought.
She reached over and grabbed her cell phone from the bedside table. She scrolled through the numbers in her phone until she found the one she was looking for and dialed.
“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered.
“Um, hello, is this Coach Stone?” Gabby asked.
“I’m sorry, this is her sister,” the woman answered. “Coach Stone left this morning for a cruise to the Bahamas. She’ll be back at the end of the month. Can I take a message?”
Gabby sank back on her pillows in disappointment. She’d been counting on Coach Stone.
“Hello?” the woman said. “Hello?”
“Never mind,” Gabby muttered. She slowly clicked the phone shut. “Looks like I’m on my own now,” she said to the empty room.
CHAPTER 7
GABBY’S DECISION
Gabby barely slept that night. She felt like the night would never end. She twisted in her sweaty sheets, turning her pillow over again and again to find a cool spot. Finally, near dawn, she fell into a restless sleep.
When her alarm went off at eight, she opened her eyes. Her mind was finally made up. She needed to talk to Coach Pearce.
After climbing out of bed, Gabby walked to the bathroom. She stepped under the pounding spray of the shower. She knew she’d have to hurry if she wanted to catch Coach Pearce before practice.
Gabby jogged all the way to the ice rink. When she arrived, she tugged open the big front doors and stepped inside. This early, the rink was practically empty.
Instead of going to the ice, she headed to the long hallway on the side of the arena where all the coaches had their offices. The door on the end read “Margaret Pearce.” Gabby raised her hand and knocked.
“Come in,” Coach Pearce called.
Gabby pushed open the door. Coach Pearce sat behind a desk piled high with papers. She was scowling at a clipboard.
When she looked up, her face broke into a smile. “Ah, Gabrielle,” she said. “I thought I might be seeing you this morning. Ready to work on that double Axel?”
Gabby’s heart was pounding. “Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” she replied. “I’ve decided the double Axel is too much for me right now. I’m excited to do the rest of the routine, but I won’t be doing the double Axel,” she said. “I’m happy to do the single, though.”
Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. She swallowed hard and forced herself to look Coach Pearce in the face.
Coach Pearce frowned. “I told you. You can’t compete at the juvenile level without the double. There’s no point,” she replied.
“I’m sorry,” Gabby said quietly. “I just don’t feel like I’m ready to do the jump. If that means I have to compete at a lower level, then I’m okay with that.”
Coach Pearce raised her eyebrows. “I’m surprised,” she said. “I must say, I’ve never had a skater refuse a jump before.”
Gabby swallowed hard but forced herself to stand up straight. “I’m really sorry. I’ve been up practically all night thinking about this. I’ll admit it — I am afraid to do the double Axel. I had a really bad experience jumping last year. Even if it’s just my nerves, and not my skill, I need more practice with the double before I can do it in competition.”
Gabby and Coach Pearce stared at each other. The only sound in the room was the loud ticking of the wall clock.
Gabby held her breath. What if Coach Pearce wouldn’t listen? What if she dropped her as a student? Finally, the coach sighed.
“You’re right,” she said. “I may have been a coach for thirty years, but
I still get excited when I see a skater with a lot of talent — like you. Maybe my excitement got in the way of my common sense. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard on something you don’t feel ready for.”
Gabby breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you!” she exclaimed. “Thank you for understanding.” Her whole body felt lighter than it had for the past two weeks.
Coach Pearce continued, “We’ll practice the double together for the future. For now, I’m putting you down for the pre-juvenile level at the competition. You’ll do the single Axel, and we’ll go from there.”
She picked up her clipboard and made a note. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” she added. “Eight o’clock at the arena. The event begins at nine-thirty, and you will skate at ten.”
“I’ll be there,” Gabby promised.
CHAPTER 8
THE AXEL
Gabby hardly recognized the ice arena when she arrived the next morning. The backstage area, which was usually empty, was packed with dozens of skaters. Coaches in shiny warm-up outfits talked to their students in the corners, while proud parents snapped picture after picture.
Gabby dumped her skate bag in a corner. Then she went over to check out the audience.
A wall separated the backstage from the ice. Gabby peered over it and gasped. The bleachers were packed with parents, siblings, and grandparents. Some people were even standing up at the back. Gabby could feel the excitement all around her.
The three judges sat at their long, high table with their scorecards in front of them. Gabby’s heart sped up.
The first skater was already on the ice. Gabby watched as the music began. She must be an intermediate skater, Gabby thought. She watched the girl perform a perfect triple Lutz. The audience loved it.
Gabby was filled with doubt. She wanted to be out there doing jumps that made the audience gasp and clap, just like they were doing now. Maybe I should be doing the double Axel, she thought.
Gabby spun around when someone touched her shoulder. Coach Pearce stood behind her, bundled in her usual parka. She smiled. “Ready for your performance, Gabrielle?” she asked.
Gabby looked around and then drew her coach into a quiet corner. “I don’t know. I’m rethinking things,” she said. “Is it too late to move me into the juvenile competition? Maybe I should try the double. What do you think?” she asked, looking nervously at her coach’s face.
To her surprise, Coach Pearce shook her head. “No,” she said firmly, picking up Gabby’s skate bag. “Come on, you need to warm up. You’re next.”
“No?” Gabby repeated, hurrying after her coach.
Coach Pearce turned around. “No,” she said again. “You were right yesterday. There will be many, many more competitions for you, Gabrielle. You’ll have many, many chances to perform the double Axel. Today, skate and enjoy yourself. The single Axel will be enough.”
Coach Pearce smiled for an instant. Then her face returned to its usual frown. “Enough talking!” she snapped. “Time to warm up!”
* * *
The announcer’s voice boomed over the arena. “Gabrielle Lange!”
The audience grew quiet. Gabby gave her coach one last glance. Coach Pearce nodded and made a shooing motion with her hands. Go, she mouthed.
Gabby took a deep breath and stepped onto the ice. The minute her skates touched the slick surface, she relaxed. It had been so long since she’d competed and even longer since she’d felt good about her routine.
She skated smoothly to the center of the ice and got into position. Her stomach felt calm. Her mind was clear. She knew exactly what she was going to do.
At a signal from the head judge, the music began. Gabby swept into her first move, the sit spin. Crouching close to the ice, she spun quickly, tracing perfectly round circles on the ice beneath her blade.
Gabby spun into an edge spiral next, her right leg out behind her and her arms held out to her sides. She could feel the sweat rolling down her back, despite the cold air of the rink.
She spun easily on one skate. The audience cheered as she finished her spin and glided across the rink.
Gabby moved into the position for the Axel. She skated backward, her head turned, her arms held out next to her. She felt her skates moving faster. Then it was time.
She threw herself into the air, rotating a full turn and a half, holding her arms close to her body. Gabby felt herself soaring in the air. She knew that the jump was perfect.
She landed lightly on one foot, the other extended behind her as she glided backward. At the same time, she heard the audience cheer. Gabby let the applause wash over her.
Gabby swept into her closing position, arms lifted over her head. She looked to the right.
The judges were nodding and smiling at one another. Gabby broke into a smile, too. She barely felt her skates touch the ice as she skated off.
Coach Pearce was waiting for her. “Well?” Gabby asked nervously. “What did you think?” She slipped the blade covers onto her skates.
Coach Pearce didn’t say anything. She draped a jacket around Gabby’s shoulders and led her to the bench to wait for her scores.
Gabby’s heart dropped. Had she been wrong? Should she have done the double after all?
Then Coach Pearce finally spoke. “Well, it was only a single, Gabrielle,” she said. “But it was the best single I’ve seen in a long time. And that is because you skated with confidence. The judges will agree.”
She pointed to the scoreboard over the ring. The crowd cheered as the score flashed: Gabrielle Lange, Pre-Juvenile, 9.0.
Gabby squealed and threw her arms around Coach Pearce. That was her highest score yet! Coach Pearce smiled and patted Gabby’s back firmly. “Very good work,” she said. “I can’t wait to see what you can do next.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Emma Carlson Berne has written more than a dozen books for children and young adults, including teen romance novels, biographies, and history books. She lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband, Aaron, her son, Henry, and her dog, Holly.
ABOUT THE ILLUSTRATOR
Pulsar Studio is a collection of artists from Argentina who work to bring editorial projects to life. They work with companies from different parts of the world designing characters, short stories for children, textbooks, art for book covers, comics, licensed art, and more. Images are their means of expression.
GLOSSARY
arena (uh-REE-nuh)—a large area that is used for sports or entertainment
audition (aw-DISH-uhn)—a short performance to see whether someone is suitable for a part in a play, concert, etc.
competition (kom-puh-TISH-uhn)—a contest of some kind
complex (kom-PLEKS)—very complicated
intense (in-TENSS)—showing stong feelings
intermediate (in-tur-MEE-dee-it)—a higher than juvenile level of competition
juvenile (JOO-vuh-nile)—one of the levels of competition in figure skating
retire (ri-TIRE)—to give up work, usually because of old age
routine (roo-TEEN)—a regular way or pattern of doing things
scuff (SKUHF)—to scratch or scrape something and leave a mark
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
Gabby didn’t want to perform difficult jumps, even though her coach thought it was a good idea. Who do you think was right, Gabby or Coach Pearce? Talk about the different viewpoints.
What would you do if you were in Gabby’s situation? Discuss some other ways Gabby could have reacted and what you would have done if you were her.
Gabby was injured while performing a difficult skating jump. Have you ever been injured while playing a sport? Talk about it.
WRITING PROMPTS
Gabby had to make a major change when she got a new coach. Have you ever had to make a big change? What happened? How did you react? Write about it.
Do you think Gabby was right to stand up to her coach? Have you ever had to stand up to an adult for something you believed in? Write about that experience.
&
nbsp; Gabby was afraid to try harder jumps because of her injury. Have you ever been nervous about trying something? Write about how you overcame your fear.
MORE ABOUT FIGURE SKATING JUMPS
Jumps are a major part of figure skating competitions. Below, in order of easiest to most difficult, are the six most common jumps:
Salchow: This edge jump was named for Ulrich Salchow, who first performed it in 1909. The takeoff is done on the back inside edge of one skate. It is landed on the back outside edge of the other skate after one or more rotations.
Toe loop: This is one of the simplest toe jumps. It begins with a toe pick and requires a skater to take off and land on the back outside edge of the same skate.
Loop: A loop jump requires a skater to take off from a back outside edge, do a full rotation in the air, and land on the same back outside edge used to take off. This is an “edge jump” since no toe assist is needed to take off. It’s often the second part of a combination.
Flip: This toe jump begins with a skater on a back inside edge. The skater then does a toe pick with the other foot, jumps a full revolution, and lands on the back outside edge of the opposite foot.
Lutz: The Lutz is named for Austrian skater Alois Lutz, who first performed it in 1913. This is a toe jump similar to a flip jump. The only difference is that the takeoff is from a back outside edge, rather than a back inside edge.
Axel: Named for Axel Paulsen, who performed it in 1882, the Axel is the most difficult jump. It’s an edge jump that takes off on a forward outside edge and lands on the back outside edge of the opposite foot. A skater must make one and a half revolutions while in the air.