Something to Shout About

By Tom Callahan

U.S. success at the Olympics was late coming, but it was worth savoring

If Winter Games disrupted by winter weather can still be warm, then an American skier can win the downhill and twins can finish 1-2 in the men's slalom. If, when asked what the victory means to him, Downhiller Bill Johnson says, "Millions, we're talking millions here," this is not the whole story.

Wanting to be associated with an outbreak of peace, Sarajevo opened its snowy mountain passes to the world the past two weeks and made more than a fine impression. If not for a restaurateur named Fahrudin Sahid, Olympic guests might have thought that gulling and cadging were sports entirely unknown in Yugoslavia.

But when the actor Kirk Douglas brought a party of eight into Sahid's establishment, 5,400 dinars (about $45) hardly seemed a fitting tab to present to Spartacus. So Sahid made it 54,000 and requested dollars. The joint has been padlocked.

Because of Sarajevo's generous spirit, Yugoslav Skier Jure Franko's silver success in the men's giant slalom was the sweetest moment of the Games. Everyone joined in for the country's first medal ceremony in 14 winters and 60 years: a clogged Skenderija Square quivered under a press of singing children and a banner of "Olimpijski Snovi"-- Olympic dreams.

The next day, Franko and a pretty girl were out strolling unrecognized until he was hailed from across the street. "It's here," he said, "somewhere," patting every pocket before locating the most precious artifact in the city. And he added a little sadly, "I hope it doesn't change my life. I like it the way it is."

Though two years older than Franko, the California-born, Oregon-tempered Johnson seems younger and less reflective at 23. Since high school, he has known no home other than the next mountain town, but when asked if any part of him regrets that, he blinks and says, "No, are you kidding?" Besides parting the Alpine curtain, earning the U.S. its first downhill medal, giving the Austrians in particular the back of his skis, Johnson provided the Olympics a towheaded Joe Namath. "There's no doubt," he repeated through a blizzard of postponements. "I'm going to win."

Johnson is not held in total esteem by his associates on the ski team. His bold arrogance contrasted with the appealing wonder of Debbie Armstrong, 20, so surprised to be perched on the gold-medal stand that she could scarcely stop laughing. U.S. men and women skiers were able o share this feeling in the same Olympics for the first time, Armstrong winning the women's giant slalom. A delightful former tomboy devoted to all games, whether booting soccer balls or shooting 'hoops," she concluded that skiing was her favorite sport only after a broken leg two years ago kept her from doing it.

"Have fun," she said over and over. When Armstrong laughed, the Balkans had to grin. And so did Christin Cooper, who lost the race--rather, finished second. Only momentarily did Cooper fret, "Maybe I'm not meant to win." Then she had the nicest line both of and on the Games: "You could take all the joy out of life by always wanting something to be better."

Figure skaters can only wish for a competition as clean as a clock. The complaints over judging this time ran from Canadian Gary Beacom, declaring, "We're not trained monkeys, we're human beings," to American Michael Seibert, murmuring, "It hurts when it's your only chance for an Olympic medal." Partly because of the music they skated to, Seibert and Partner Judy Blumberg finished fourth, behind two sets of Soviets and the elegant British dancers Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean.

If these two were not so smashing, someone might have wondered what a prom was doing in the middle of the Olympics, or whether there would be a cotillion at the Summer Games. Their lovely exhibition upstaged much of the serious skating ahead and showed how joyless that can be. Not the usual word applied to Scott Hamilton, 25, a happy little dynamo who looks as though he fell off a charm bracelet. Yet it fitted even him. He won the gold medal, but with a wistful shrug said he always imagined it would be "more special." A miscalculation, evidently, involving flips and salchows. Rosalynn Sumners skated beautifully, perfectly in the view of one judge, and narrowly lost to the German Democratic Republic's Brooke Shields, Katarina Witt.

The Scandinavian countries fought off the Soviets and East Germans pretty well in the Nordic sports. Long and lean

Marja-Liisa Haemaelaeinen took a record three individual golds and a team bronze in cross-country for Finland. East and West Germans held forth generally in their luges and bobs. With $10,000, Americans made a hot last-minute purchase, picking up Switzerland's third-fastest four-man bobsled. After a brisk paint job at a Volkswagen shop, then a tippy practice run, four happy men led by Jeff Jost rode U.S.A. I to fifth place, behind G.D.R. I, G.D.R. II, Swiss I and Swiss II, and ahead of both Russian "cigarskis." While the U.S. took less glory and spread it around better (in 1980, Speedskater Eric Heiden was the only individual champion), the Winter Games continue to be something of a match race between East Germany and the U.S.S.R. A pretty good team unto themselves, four comely East German women, especially Karin Enke and Andrea Schoene, shared most of the speedskating podiums and nine medals.

In the men's speedskating, Gaetan Boucher, winner of two golds and a bronze, led Canada in song. Counting a silver medal won in Lake Placid (a second to Heiden, nearly as good as a gold), Boucher is the most successful Olympian in his country's history. "Keep going, I told my legs in the 1500," he said. "I started hurting at 300 meters. It was strictly guts." Canadians had invested meager hope in their hockey team, which lost 16 times in 19 exhibition games leading up to the Olympics, including 8-2 to the U.S.

But Canada defeated the Americans to start the tournament, 4-2, and the bronze-medal game with Sweden was televised live nationally at 4 o'clock in the morning.

With a 7-4 victory over Poland, the U.S. closed out a 2-2-2 Olympics for a seventh-place finish, the lowest ever. "Going in, we rated ourselves in the middle," said Coach Lou Vairo, "knowing the Russians and Czechs were superior. I don't think we deserved to beat the Canadians or the Czechs, but we were not a very lucky team. On that ice, I sensed something, a strange feeling. I can't define it even now.

Maybe it was just the Olympics." Incidentally, it was in relation to hockey that the subject of drugs made one of its few appearances in the Games. A sober entry in one of the official daily bulletins: "A new problem, which has arisen in connection with doping control, is under discussion.

The hockey players have been drinking too much beer while waiting. Something must be done to prevent this." If a solution was found, it was not announced.

As if Austria were not pained enough, Switzerland's Michela Figini and Maria Walliser showed the way in the women's downhill run. Erika Hess, the Swiss slalom star, had no happier time than Tamara McKinney, the U.S. World Cup champion, who was fourth in the giant slalom but hooked a gate and tumbled in the slalom. "You have to take chances to win," she said. "I took one too many." On the last day of the Games, Phil Mahre, the three-time overall World Cup champion, the most accomplished skier in U.S. history, finally won his gold medal. He passed Brother Steve in the second run as the twins finished 1-2 in the slalom. As soon as Phil streamed over the finish line, he was on the walkie-talkie to his brother on the hilltop. But Steve acted too recklessly on his advice and did well to stay on the course. Still, it was a fine, fraternal way to end things.

At the Olympic Games, results are hard to keep track of because they seem incidental. Who finished third, the Finns?

With a total of eight medals, four gold, the most hopeful U.S. team had the smallest yield in twelve years. But if the numbers were dim, the moments were bright, and the attitude of the least eminent athletes from the quietest sports added to that. "Up in the air, I was ecstatic, I could tell I had a good jump," cried Jeff Hastings of the U.S., still aloft after finishing fourth in the 90-meter jump. According to their own scale of accomplishments, people doing their best rejoiced. There was enough happiness in the Olympics. No need to want anything to be better. --By Tom Callahan