[2017.02.01] Team Brian: 300 Points Legend

[yuzurujenn]

Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/-/en/ブライアン・オーサー/dp/4062201186/

https://ebookjapan.yahoo.co.jp/books/270878/

 

 

The Reason Behind That Smile, The Truth Behind That Roar, The Behind-the-Scenes of That Fierce Battle. Moving Toward the future of another dimension! ! A Renowned Coach Tells the Story of Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández.

 

Table of content:

Spoiler

Introduction

 

Chapter 1: Starting the Journey Towards PyeongChang (2014-2015 Season)

1.1 Kim Yuna Was No Fluke
1.2 Evolving Without Turning Away from Pressure
1.3 Yuzuru, Growing as an Olympic Champion
1.4 The Value of Quadruple Jumps in the Latter Half of the Short Program
1.5 Javier Is Reborn!
1.6 A Program Perfect for Performing in His Home Country, Spain
1.7 Yuzuru's worst night at the Cup of China

1.8 The International Skating Union’s Response
1.9 Deliberately Assigning Hard Training After the Accident
1.10 Extremely Nervous in Front of Spanish Fans
1.11 Training Together on the Same Rink Reduces Invisible Pressure
1.12 A Hero's Return to the All Japan Championships, and Then Surgery
1.13 A Dead Heat between 1st and 2nd Place in the Short Program

1.14 Commentary - 2014–2015 Season

 

Chapter 2: The Secret of Our Strength
2.1 The Unusual Fatigue After a Great Season
2.2 Happiness in Team Brian
2.3 Each skater is the Main Character
2.4 Building a great community

2.5 A Goal Even More Wonderful Than Winning the World Championships

 

Chapter 3: Two World Champions, Two Comrades in Arms (2015-2016 Season)
3.1 Awareness of being a top skater
3.2 Yuzuru’s attention to detail
3.3 Taking pride in each country's culture
3.4 Consider countermeasures rather than criticizing the scoring system
3.5 Is victory about quad Lutz or quality?
3.6 Incorporating two quads in the short program
3.7 Managing Yuzuru's conditioning

3.8 Creating a Historic Moment Through One's Own Strength
3.9 Yuzuru battles against himself
3.10 The rink turns into a flamenco-dancing tavern
3.11 To compete against Yuzuru

3.12 Mistakes motivate him to train harder
3.13 Javier also surpasses 300 points
3.14 A rink scattered with jewels
3.15 Yuzuru's Trials Continue
3.16 "It’s Sinatra, Sinatra!"
3.17 "You have plenty of time to beat me"

3.18 Commentary

 

Chapter 4: The 300-Point ‘Milestone’
4.1 The secret to scoring over 300 points (1) GOE 
4.2 The secret to scoring over 300 points (2) PCS 
4.3 Both Yuzuru and Javier can still improve
4.4 The expected four-year plan
4.5 Gradually raising the bar for each other

4.6 More than a Score: "The Greatest Moment"

 

Chapter 5: The Pre-Olympic Season: 2016–2017
5.1 Does being the World Champion bring pressure or confidence?
5.2 Choosing music with the Olympics in mind
5.3 Yuzuru and Javier's 2-year programs

5.4 Yuzuru’s Quadruple Loop as Rehabilitation After Injury

5.5 Why insist on landing the quad loop?

5.6 A Score Unthinkable Last Season

5.7 Discussion and understanding

5.8 Third time surpassing 300 points

5.9 Yuzuru peaks quickly

5.10 Don’t be misled by the new era of quadruple jumps

5.11 Can we help promising skaters evolve properly?

5.12 Commentary

 

Chapter 6: The Olympics and Team Brian

6.1 Some Days Are Difficult

6.2 10 skaters at the Olympics?

6.3 All 24 skaters in the free skate will do a quadruple jump

6.4 Choosing music for the Olympics in South Korea

6.5 To perform at their best in the actual competition

6.6 Life continues even after retiring from competition

6.7 We are ahead of our time

 

Final Chapter: Brian Orser & Javier Fernández

A Conversation Between Coach And Student

-"I knew that if I let him practice according to the plan, he would succeed"

-Plushenko’s words

-How to turn the cheers of the crowd into energy

-The meaning of surpassing 300 points

-The Value of an Olympic medal
-A rink where an Olympic champion encourages other skaters

 

Afterword

 

A Message from Brian Orser to the Team

 

 

This book is based on interviews with coach Brian Orser held at the Toronto Cricket Skating & Curling Club in May and October 2016, a conversation between coach Orser and skater Javier Fernandez held at the same venue in October, and other interviews held from time to time up until the 2016 NHK Trophy. The interviewer was Yoshie Noguchi.

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Introduction

 

Spoiler

The airplane carrying "Team Brian" is now ascending toward the vast sky. In the cockpit are two excellent pilots who will guide us to an unknown world no one has ever reached. They can fly this plane to any destination.

 

As you might guess, in the cockpit is 2014 Sochi Olympic champion Yuzuru Hanyu. The other pilot is Javier Fernández, who became the first Spanish world champion in 2015. In the 2015-2016 season, the two of them marked the first-ever 300-point performance, stepping into a new realm for men's figure skating singles.

 

Yuzuru, after becoming an Olympic champion, did not stop but continued to evolve, advancing both himself and the sport of figure skating. Javier, after a disappointing 4th place at the Sochi Olympics, underwent a transformation, becoming a great rival to Yuzuru and a pioneer in new territories for skating. By the end of the 2016 Grand Prix series, Yuzuru had surpassed 300 points three times, and Javier had done so twice.

 

No matter what era, no matter where you look in the world, no one other than these two has seen the view from these heights.

 

Brian Orser, that is, I, have entrusted the control stick to the two of them, letting them express their desires and receive their consultations, while I watch the course of the plane. The feeling is very comfortable, as outside the plane’s window stretches a spectacular view no one has ever seen before.

 

Our plane does not need to think about trying to imitate what another athlete is doing or surpassing a score set by another. The two of them aim for the goals they want to reach, and their trajectory will set a new standard in figure skating.

 

Without a doubt, the 2015-2016 season marked a historic turning point for men’s figure skating. Prior to that, the world’s highest score was 295.27 points, set by Patrick Chan (Canada) in 2013, and there had been no scores even close to 300, making it seem like the 300-point mark was an insurmountable wall. This stagnant situation was decisively broken by Yuzuru’s 322.40 points at the 2015 NHK Trophy and 330.43 points at the Grand Prix Final. Following that, Javier also surpassed 300 points at the 2016 European Championships and World Championships.

 

The incredible 300+ point scores set by these two will be engraved as a "milestone" in men’s figure skating in the first half of the 21st century. It is certain that in the years leading up to the 2018 Pyeongchang Olympics, and beyond, the 300-point mark will become the benchmark for being called an "elite" or "historic" skater.

 

At the same time, I understand deeply the aspirations and uncertainties that Yuzuru and Javier are feeling right now. Thirty years ago, I was one of those who carried the “milestone” of that era, embracing both the glory and stress with my whole body.

 

Let me tell you a bit of a story from the past. In the 1980s, the best technical move for men was the triple axel. Brian Boitano (USA) and I were in a fierce competition for the world’s number 1 and 2 spots, with the triple axel being our weapon. Especially since I was good at the axel, I was called “Mr. Triple Axel.” The media and fans would always ask me:

 

"Are you going to include the triple axel in this competition?" "How many triple axels will you do?" "How did you become able to land the triple axel?"

 

Though my performance wasn’t just about the triple axel, everyone focused only on that. It was my signature move, and the joy and exhilaration when it succeeded was incomparable to anything. But I also felt a sense of loneliness, as though I was only being evaluated for my triple axel. It was as if the move I loved but also hated had taken over me.

 

Skaters who bear milestones like that have to walk their skating careers while processing a feeling that no one knows and cannot explain. It's different from just being a world champion.

 

In the coming seasons, Yuzuru and Javier will face the same situation. Everyone will ask them:

 

"How can you surpass the world record of 330 points?" "When will you surpass 300 points again?" "You didn’t exceed 300 points this time, what was the reason?" "How do you feel when other skaters get 300 points?"

 

Achieving 300 points is not the goal of figure skating. However, the milestone of 300 points is so significant that it can sometimes overshadow everything else.

 

That’s why I want to guide Yuzuru and Javier toward the right goal. Because I am someone who has carried a milestone and experienced the struggles that come with it, I will not overlook the various changes that will happen to them. If I feel their control is a little off, I can go to the cockpit and help steer the plane. Ultimately, I want them to spread their wings freely and take them to the place they truly want to go.

 

In the previous work Team Brian, I talked about how I became a coach and how I helped athletes like Kim Yuna (South Korea), Yuzuru Hanyu, and Javier Fernández grow. I shared that the secret to their strength was being fortunate enough to have wonderful students, coaches, and staff, and how we built the best team together.

 

Two years have passed since then. Thanks to how much the two of them have grown, I now realize that the approach to teamwork I shared in Team Brian was indeed the right one.

 

Now, the two of them are standing in a new realm, and we, as coaches, are also moving toward new goals. As a coach, many people ask me, "How did you manage to get them to score 300 points?" or "How did you help your students win the World Championships and the Olympics?"

 

But, having worked with Javier for five years and Yuzuru for four, we didn’t always focus on winning or achieving the highest scores. We shared something more important—their lives as top athletes. The contours of that beauty showed themselves when we created a beautiful collaboration, and the milestone of 300 points was the result of that.

 

In other words, what I want to say is, just like in the previous work, 'Team Brian is a community.' Yes, we are a community, a small village, so to speak. It’s a small village within the town of Toronto, called the 'Toronto Cricket Skating & Curling Club.' There, life, work, and everything are all connected. This is the secret behind the '300 points.'

 

This book is not a guide on how to win in figure skating competitions. I want fans and people involved in skating to understand how deeply profound the world of skating is. And I want them to share the feelings and situations that Yuzuru and Javier are currently in.

 

Now, let me invite you all to the amazing community we’ve built, 'Team Brian.'

 

 

 

Commentary by Yoshie Noguchi

 

Spoiler

This book is based on interviews conducted with Coach Brian Orser at the Toronto Cricket Skating & Curling Club in Canada in May and October 2016, as well as a conversation held there in October between Coach Orser and skater Javier Fernández, along with additional interviews conducted at various times up through the 2016 NHK Trophy. The interviews were conducted by Yoshie Noguchi.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 1
Starting the Journey Towards PyeongChang (2014-2015 Season)

 

 

 

1.1 Kim Yuna Was No Fluke

 

Spoiler

The biggest change I experienced right after Yuzuru Hanyu won the gold medal at the Sochi Olympics was that my credibility suddenly skyrocketed. While I was already recognized as one of the top coaches after leading Kim Yuna to the gold medal at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, it wasn't yet absolute trust.

 

Yuzuru's victory meant that "Kim Yuna's win was not just a fluke." Four years after Yuna, a Team Brian athlete won another gold medal. The victories of Team Brian athletes were not just a matter of luck. Yuna's victory was not merely because of luck, and neither was Yuzuru's. Our strategy was in place, and the elements leading to success were properly organized, proving that this was the reason for their victories. At the same time, my coaching methods and the credibility of our team's work grew, and great value was created.

 

After Yuna’s victory in Vancouver, there was a period when requests for my coaching increased rapidly, but they were nothing compared to the flood of requests that came after the Sochi Olympics. People began looking at me with awe, as if I were a magician. They seemed to believe, “If I join Team Brian, I will win.”

But the reality was different. While our strategy and coaching style brought results, it took time. I believe that "four years" is the necessary time for a skater’s growth. In fact, it took four years for Yuna.

I felt that both Yuzuru and Javier were not yet at their true peak by the time of the Sochi Olympics. They were still in the "buildup" phase, where they would evolve significantly in the next two to three years. My role was to ensure that the strategy and coaching style for both athletes would bear fruit, and that was more important than producing results at the Sochi Olympics. Transforming a skater in just a year or two is difficult.

 

Therefore, requests asking me to make Yuzuru win in just two seasons or to achieve growth in 1–2 years never resonated with me. The more I was asked to work "magic," the more my resolve strengthened. I wanted to fulfill the long-term plans for both Javier and Yuzuru and show the world that their success was not by chance or magic, but by a strategic, 4–5 year educational process. Team Brian is a school. To me, coaching skaters is about that. When the Sochi Olympics ended, and the four-year journey towards PyeongChang began, that was my honest feeling.

 

 

1.2 Evolving Without Turning Away from the Pressure

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru Hanyu's life changed after winning the gold medal at the Sochi Olympics. He became a hero in Japan, and many fans and media started following him. On the other hand, Javier Fernández finished fourth. It was an amazing result, but it was still frustrating to fall just short of a medal. However, Javier went on to win back-to-back European Championships and became Spain's first top skater, garnering attention and admiration. The 2013–2014 season was a wonderful one for both, but it was also a season of burnout. Yet as soon as the 2014 World Championships ended, I said to Yuzuru and Javier, "Now, let’s start preparing for the next Olympics. We have four years."

Since they had just finished their season, they both looked at me with expressions that said, "There are still four years left. It’s so far away." However, in reality, two years after the Olympics is the "pre-Olympic season," and the preparation needs to start then. The Grand Prix series for the Olympic season starts in October 2017, and the Olympics are in February the following year—just four months apart. It passes in the blink of an eye. So, I said, “If you’re not careful, before you know it, it will be the Olympics!”

As an athlete, I know how quickly the next Olympics can come. After winning a silver medal at the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics, I immediately started preparing for the 1988 Calgary Olympics. For four years, I competed with my rival Brian Boitano for the world’s number one and two positions. I know from experience how quickly the next Olympics can arrive. As a coach, I also have eight years of experience targeting both the Vancouver and Sochi Olympics, so I always plan what needs to be done at each stage. I warned both of them, but I added, "Time may fly, but you have plenty of time to evolve."

If you make a proper plan, there’s a lot you can try. Even if you suffer injuries or setbacks, there is time to turn those experiences into valuable lessons for the Olympics. Any detour can become a valuable experience.

I already decided what my next steps would be for these two athletes. In their case, the most necessary preparation during the four years from Sochi to PyeongChang was not related to programs or jumps. It was to raise them into athletes who can take responsibility for preparing for the Olympics on their own. Much of this concerns mental training and psychological growth. This is because the Olympics are a competition with a completely different nature from the World Championships. If the goal is to win a medal at the World Championships, then one can simply improve one’s abilities through muscle training, jumps, skating, and so on. However, when it comes to the Olympics, that alone is not sufficient. Although the lineup of competitors is the same, a different kind of mental “preparation” is required than for the World Championships.

 

Preparation for an Olympic season begins with everyday life in Toronto. It is not sufficient to manage one’s mindset only after arriving at the Olympic host city. Once the Olympic season begins, you find yourself thinking about the Olympics every single day. The news, TV commercials, city billboards, everything becomes tied to the Olympics, and even a casual glance can suddenly trigger anxiety. That is why it cannot be the coach who provides mental care; the two of them must learn to control their mental state on their own.

 

So far, Javier has experienced the Olympics twice, and Yuzuru once, but next time they will be competing from a different position. Before Sochi, Javier was thinking, “If I can win a medal, that would be great,” while for Yuzuru, at his first Olympics, excitement outweighed pressure. But the PyeongChang Olympics were something the two of them would have to face continuously for four years. Expectations and pressure from those around them will continue to be placed on them for four full years. That is why, while remaining conscious of the Olympics, they needed tools to maintain a sense of normalcy and emotional balance.

 

Those tools include things like self-dialogue through meditation, or practices such as yoga that regulate breathing. Whatever the method, it was essential to help each of them establish what worked best for them personally, and to support them so they could live out their four years of training in a way that felt right to them.

 

Turning away while thinking, “Four years is still far off,” is the approach of an amateur. It may ease the pressure, but four years will pass without any real evolution. If someone is young, like Yuzuru before Sochi, it is possible to make a major breakthrough during a single Olympic season. However, top athletes who already hold world titles do not suddenly grow dramatically just before the Olympics.

 

What is needed is a plan. And mental preparation. Therefore, with an eye toward four years later, we created plans for the growth needed in each individual season. The specific details will remain top secret until the PyeongChang Olympics are over, but let me share a glimpse of the kinds of discussions the two of them had with us.

 

 

1.3 Yuzuru, Growing as an Olympic Champion

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru will now spend the next four years as an Olympic champion. Normally, that comes with tremendous pressure. There is also the question of how to maintain motivation over the next four years. Some skaters even choose to move to other coaches.

 

However, when we observed Yuzuru, we realized that in his case, such worries were completely unnecessary. Rather than losing motivation, he said he wanted “to grow more and more,” and his enthusiasm was overflowing. Most importantly, he said he wanted to remain at the Cricket Club—our team—and continue training there for the next four years. That made us very happy. At the time of the Sochi Olympics, we had spent only two years with Yuzuru, and we believed that the “true results” of Team Brian emerge in the fourth or fifth year. Once we understood that we should support not “four years as an Olympic champion,” but rather “four years to evolve further,” I myself was able to settle in and fully commit.

 

My plan for his “first year as an Olympic champion” was, above all, to “skate freely and well.” Yuzuru is a very strategic and competitive skater, so the two years since he came to me had been truly aggressive ones. Rather than continuing at the same pace for the next four years, he needed time to skate freely and to feel again that he “loves skating.”

 

In English, there is the expression “let the dust settle.” I wanted to give him some breathing space within his skating life. As a gold medalist, Yuzuru needed time to be released from tension and to look inward.

 

As part of that, we didn't say anything about the music he would use for his free skate in the 2014-2015 season, and instead let Yuzuru choose it himself. Even if the decision was slightly delayed, we decided to wait and give him the initiative. By summer, Yuzuru chose The Phantom of the Opera as his free program music.

 

On the other hand, we approached the short program in a planned manner. The four of us—myself, Tracy Wilson, choreographer Jeffrey Buttle, and Yuzuru—had a meeting to choose the music. We requested a piano piece, and Jeffrey suggested Chopin’s Ballade No. 1 in G minor. I had always liked Chopin’s Ballades, but when I listened to it again with the idea of using it for Yuzuru’s short program, I thought, “I’m not sure if Yuzu will like this.” It’s a somewhat risky piece to skate to. However, when I asked Yuzuru, he said, “I love it too,” and I thought, “Wow, that’s great.”

 

I knew that Yuzuru and Jeffrey worked well together, so I was able to entrust the choreography to him with confidence. When it comes to the work of a professional choreographer, there is no need for a coach to offer this or that opinion. I waited excitedly for it to be completed. Then, in early spring, Yuzuru skated the finished Ballade No. 1 for us. When I saw the movements that captured the delicate sounds, and the final step sequence, I was astonished. “So Yuzuru can perform with this level of delicacy. He’s grown to the point where he is capable of skating like this!”

 

This was exactly the kind of growth Yuzuru needed. I felt we had taken a good risk. It was a major leap from the Yuzuru of the past. Of course, once Yuzuru began skating the choreography, he apparently realized how difficult it was, and he said this:

 

“It’s just a solo piano piece and requires extremely delicate expression, so it’s very difficult for me. There’s no dramatic swell in the music that can cover up mistakes, so any mistake really stands out.”

 

Exactly. That's the intention. There's no room for mistakes in this program. It is a very risky piece. But it's a highly advanced program that only an Olympic champion can pull off.

 

At first, when he came to the club, even the short program 'Parisienne Walkways' felt quite risky and mature. It’s a difficult piece that requires a clear contrast between power and relaxation. Yet Yuzuru executed it very skillfully, and it suited him so well that I thought, in the long run, the Parisian Walkways style would probably suit him best. That is precisely why, in the season immediately following Sochi, it was necessary to deliberately choose something from the opposite end of the spectrum: a delicate classical piece for solo piano.

 

Because of its risk, if completed, it had the potential to enchant the audience. Yuzuru had already scored over 100 points with Parisienne Walkways, and I felt that with this Ballade No. 1, he had the potential to score 110 points. This program was like a golden egg, and my heart was bursting with excitement.

 

 

 

1.4 The Value of a Quad in the Second Half of the Short Program

 

Spoiler

While deciding on his programs, Yuzuru was also thinking about a new approach to quads. He said, “Being an Olympic champion doesn’t matter. I always want to evolve,” and decided to include a quad in the second half of his short program.

 

The quad in the second half was originally Yuzuru's idea. When a skater proposes something difficult, I welcome it as long as it’s realistic. Yuzuru’s proposal carried some risk, but I judged it to be feasible. "Adding a quad to the second half of the short program" is a stepping stone to "adding two quads to the short program" in the future. However, there was also a possibility that the risk could become reality. This happened at Yuzuru’s first Grand Prix event of the 2014 season, the Cup of China in November. Not only did Yuzuru under-rotate a quad, turning it into a triple, but he also made a mistake on the triple Lutz, and he started in second place. But that was fine. At this stage, attempting something new has meaning. First, make mistakes, analyze the causes, and eventually succeed.

 

In fact, it took even Yuzuru two seasons to attempt "a quadruple jump in the second half of the short program." This is largely a mental challenge; the physical aspect is relatively small. Here, it’s worth discussing why the short program can be mentally tougher than the free skate.

 

In the short program, there are three jumps, and the content is largely predetermined, so all top skaters have nearly the same level of difficulty in their jump layout: one quad, one triple Axel, and a triple combination. None of the three jumps can be missed; there is no safety net like “I missed one jump but can make up for it with the others.”

 

Try to imagine the real thing. You step onto a 60m × 30m rink alone, surrounded 360 degrees by a large audience, with judges lined up in front of you, watching as if to say, “We won’t miss any mistakes.” The moment you take your starting pose, the thought that comes to your mind is, “I cannot afford to make a mistake.” The emotions of the moment dominate you, and your body feels different from how it does in practice. The short program carries a completely different kind of pressure than the free skate; the tension, responsibility, and everything else is different. A strong mental state is essential.

 

That is why it is common to see competitions where a skater “makes mistakes in the short program but then skates the free program with a clear mind and performs well.” Physically, the free program is more demanding, but mentally, the short program is tougher. This also changes the significance of the quad in the second half. The short program is mentally difficult, while the free program is physically difficult.

 

So how should one approach the short program? Mentally, a skater needs a burning determination that can counteract nervous tension. Like a boxer entering the ring, the athlete walks down the hallway, passes through the arena gate, and steps onto the ice with a fighting spirit. Simply telling oneself to “stay calm and skate as usual” is often not enough; in the short program, nervousness often wins.

 

So for Yuzuru, a quad jump in the second half of the short program was a new mental challenge. It's natural that you can do it in practice but not in a real competition. Yuzuru himself felt each day, “I’m succeeding in practice, so I want to succeed in competition soon,” but even if it was not immediately achieved, we planned to watch without rushing. On the contrary, seeing Yuzuru sincerely confront the question, “How can I do this in competition?” and watching his mental strength grow in the process was a source of joy.

 

 

 

1.5 Javier Is Reborn!

 

Spoiler

On the other hand, let me tell you what happened with Javier after the Sochi Olympics. To be honest, after the Olympics, I was a little worried about him. He had placed fourth and was very disappointed. In the free skate at the Olympics, Javier jumped one more triple Salchow in the second half than allowed, so the rules counted them as zero points. Without that error, he might have won the bronze medal. The fact that he didn't make any mistakes with the jumps themselves makes the regret all the more intense.

 

Javier returned to Spain feeling down. I thought, “Will Javier retire from competitive skating?” “Will he not return to my team?” “Has he lost all motivation?”

 

But then, at the end of the summer of 2014, Javier returned to the cricket club, reborn. There’s an expression in English: “You have fire in your belly.” Javi was on fire. He carried a flame within him.

 

I was so happy to see him back in Toronto. He had left the events of the Olympics behind, and he was ready to move forward and fight.

 

Every year, I hold a two-week summer camp at a rink north of Toronto. That year, Javier arrived on time every day and practiced diligently with everyone. This was a major change. When he first came to Toronto in the 2011–2012 season, he would still be sleeping at home when practice started, and I had to pick him up in my car. He was a real handful. All the other coaches noticed this dramatic change and exclaimed, “Wow! Javier has been reborn!”

 

Since that summer, Javier has continued to surprise me at every turn. For example, in 2016, after participating in an ice show in North America, he was scheduled to return to Toronto for just two days before leaving for a show in Japan. He only had two days to obtain a Japanese visa. I called him and asked him about it.

 

“Did you get your visa?”

 

Knowing Javier, I assumed he hadn’t, and I was going to add, “You need to get it in these two days, or you won’t be able to go to Japan.” But Javier replied, “Yes, I have it. It’s already obtained.” I was like, "Wow!" Javier has become independent, not only in his training but also in his personal affairs. He's grown as a person and become a responsible young man. He's no longer skating just for himself, but with a sense of responsibility toward his coach, fans, and the Spanish skating federation. He's become adept at everything, from tedious procedures like visa applications to preparing his equipment and practice for competitions.

 

This was a very good sign that he was ready to fully aim for the next Olympics. Once he steps onto the ice for a competition, the only person in control is himself. In Sochi, Javier lost control under pressure, performed a different jump combination than in practice, and jumped extra Salchows. A "new Javier" with a sense of responsibility and planning would surely be able to avoid such a mistake. Seeing this transformed Javier, I realized, “At the next Olympics, he will be one of the leading figures.”

 

While I was happy with Javier’s attitude, I also thought realistically about him four years later—especially about his age. Javier is three and a half years older than Yuzuru. Their bodies are different. Yuzuru would be just 23 at the next Olympics, the ideal age. Javier would be 26, turning 27 shortly after the Olympics. This is somewhat older than the typical peak age for figure skaters, so he will need specific training, a specific diet, and specific rest. Rest will be especially important. If he stays up late every night playing PlayStation, as he has done until now, he won't be able to recover from fatigue. As an athlete ages, self-management becomes a major responsibility.

 

However, Javier had matured enough to understand this and put it into practice. Of course, I can’t take away his PlayStation, so I imagine he still plays it secretly. But as long as he manages his health, takes proper rest, and eats well, that’s all that matters.

 

 

 

1.6 A Program Perfect for Performing in His Home Country, Spain

 

Spoiler

After the Olympic season ended, this is how I thought about Javier’s program: “No matter how cheerful he acts with a smile, the disappointment of placing fourth in Sochi will remain in the back of his mind until he gets a chance to take revenge at the next Olympics. I want him to enjoy skating.” With that in mind, I quickly decided on "Black Betty" for the short program.

 

We had actually found this piece already during the Sochi season. Javier, thinking of skating to it in some ice show, played the music at the Cricket Club and skated to it with a rough choreography he had put together himself. Watching him skate naturally, improvising as he went, I thought, “This is a really good piece that suits Javier.” Every step had choreography, there was performance even in the transitions between jumps, and it made good use of Javier’s relaxed quality. It was a very good program.

 

Did you all notice the costume? Actually, it was one I had worn in an ice show when I was young. At first, I explained to Javier:

 

“The costume for 'Black Betty' has to be black. And it needs to be a bit edgy and casual.”

 

While explaining this, I suddenly realized: “I already have a shirt that perfectly matches this image.”

 

I immediately went home, dug through my pile of costumes, and pulled it out from the bottom. I had retired after the 1988 Calgary Olympics and become a professional skater in the ice show 'Stars on Ice.' This was a costume I had used in a show around 1994, but looking at it again, it was exactly the right image. I brought it back to the rink and showed it to Javier.

 

“I want you to get a shirt like this, but if the size fits, I’d like you to wear this one.”

 

So instead of making a new costume, Javier wore my hand-me-down. Since his arms are a bit thicker than mine were when I was young, we had to widen the sleeves. Because it had been used in a show, the collar had a large embroidery: “Brian Orser” so it wouldn’t get mixed up with other skaters’ costumes. Even though my name was on it, Javier wore it as is.

 

By the way, for Javier, we plan not just the programs but also his costumes. His family and the Spanish skating federation are in Spain and completely uninvolved in practice or strategy. Other skaters often incorporate opinions from parents or the federation, but in Javier’s case, we make strategy decisions based solely on him and our ideas.

 

For the free skating program, the music choice was more strategic. Since the short program "Black Betty" was decided first, I wanted to select a contrasting piece. I always try to choose contrasting music for short and free programs.

 

The 2014–2015 Grand Prix Final was scheduled to be held in Barcelona, Spain, for the first time. It was a country not familiar with figure skating, so it would be Javier’s first major international competition in front of home fans. I wanted him to receive plenty of support from local fans in Barcelona, so I chose Rossini’s opera "The Barber of Seville." Seville is a city in Spain, and the musical style suited him perfectly. Javier enjoys skating as if performing a character. Imagining him happily skating "The Barber of Seville" and being cheered by the local audience, I was convinced that this was the best choice.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

1.7 Yuzuru's worst night at the Cup of China

 

Spoiler

Before we knew it, the start of the season was approaching. Yuzuru had to cancel his Finlandia Trophy entry in October due to back pain, and instead decided to start his season at the Cup of China, a Grand Prix series event. Yuzuru felt guilty about canceling Finlandia. Many members of the media and fans had planned to travel there, and the Finnish organizers were also very much looking forward to it. He felt a strong sense of responsibility, thinking, “I disappointed everyone, so I have to skate well at the Cup of China.”

 

By the time of the Cup of China, his back pain had recovered, and he arrived in Shanghai in excellent physical condition. However, his skating was not in good form, and Yuzuru’s sense of responsibility only grew stronger. Normally, there is no way an athlete can peak at the first competition of the season, but because of his sense of responsibility toward the fans, he was becoming somewhat anxious. Once official practices began, apart from Yuzuru’s own anxiety, there were repeated near-miss moments in which skaters almost collided with one another. This was happening not only during the six-minute warm-up immediately before competition, but already during practice sessions the day before. So I told Yuzuru and another one of my students, Nam Nguyen (Canada), to be careful, as there were skaters around them who were not paying attention to their surroundings.

 

“Skaters who usually practice alone while monopolizing the rink can’t see other skaters’ paths or movements. We have to be more careful.”

 

Of course, no skaters would deliberately collide with others. They are simply not accustomed to practicing while being aware of others around them and concentrating on their own elements at the same time.

 

In the short program, Yuzuru was unable to land the quad jump in the second half, which had been one of his challenges. As I mentioned earlier, there was no need for it to succeed at the first competition, but Yuzuru reset his mindset and went into the next day determined, thinking, “At least in the free skate, I’ll land the quad in the second half.” And then, that moment came. Yuzuru was accelerating in preparation for a jump, and China’s top skater, Yan Han, was also skating at high speed. Neither of them had time to slow down, and the instant they turned their heads, they collided head-on.

 

As for the accident itself, it can only be described as unfortunate. There's no point in saying who was at fault. When two skaters moving at such high speed collide, it cannot end as a simple fall. Yuzuru did not get up from the ice; he just lay there motionless.

 

I was seized by an overwhelming urge to rush over immediately to see if Yuzuru was okay. However, under International Skating Union (ISU) regulations, the procedures and responses for a situation like that were unclear. The only rule that was firmly established was that during the six-minute warm-up, neither coaches nor any staff were allowed to enter the rink. So no matter how desperately I wanted to run to Yuzuru’s side in my own shoes, it was not permitted. Yet the event organizers did not suspend the six-minute warm-up, nor did they immediately send in medical staff. I yelled out loud, "We need medical staff!" "Call medical staff, we need a doctor!" over and over again.

 

Only after several minutes had passed did Chinese medical staff finally enter the rink. But looking back now, I believe they were not properly qualified medical personnel. They suddenly lifted Yuzuru’s upper body while he was lying on the ice, unable to move. That is something that should never be done. It is common knowledge among people involved in skating that you must not move the head after a fall or injury. Medical staff at international competitions should have a certain level of qualification. What if he had injured his neck? What if he had suffered a concussion? Carelessly raising his head could result in permanent brain damage, or put him at serious risk of collapsing again. The correct course of action would be to first ask, "Are you OK?" and then, after the person gets up, to carefully confirm whether they truly are all right. Yet they suddenly grabbed Yuzuru and hauled him up, and at that moment I shouted, “Oh my God! What on earth are they doing?!”

 

Fortunately, Yuzuru had not hit his head, so even when his upper body was abruptly lifted, he did not lose consciousness and was able to make it back to the side of the rink with the support of a staff member. However, this was simply a blessing in disguise, and does not mean that the staff’s handling of the situation was appropriate.

 

The confusion continued. Appalled by the actions of the Chinese medical staff, I called out to see if any other medical personnel were available. I knew that there was a Canadian physiotherapist and a female doctor from the U.S. team present at the venue, so I immediately had the U.S. team doctor come over. The female doctor calmly examined Yuzuru to determine whether he had suffered a concussion. In most cases, a concussion is quickly noticeable: the person may feel nauseated, dizzy, or be unable to perform simple calculations. After being questioned and examined by the doctor, Yuzuru’s consciousness became clear. Although he was shocked by the sudden incident, his responses were steady, his mind showed no signs of confusion, and he answered in English. When I looked into Yuzuru’s eyes, he was properly looking at me, and our gaze was aligned.

 

It became clear that the blood on his head was from a cut to the side of his head, not from hitting his head on the ice. In fact, the greatest pain was in his leg. He had struck his left thigh. Since the legs contain large muscles that support the body, an injury there can suddenly drain strength and worsen overall condition. That is why Yuzuru was so exhausted. The U.S. doctor quickly asked him questions and examined him, covering all of these points within just a few minutes. She ultimately gave the following opinion:

 

“It does not appear to be a concussion.”

 

However, she understood her role and did not comment on whether he should compete. That decision is left to the skater and the coach.

 

What mattered most to me was Yuzuru’s physical and mental condition. That's far more important than whether he makes it to the Grand Prix Final. That was why I repeatedly told Yuzuru, “Don’t push yourself. Withdrawing isn’t a big deal. You don’t need to be a hero here.” But to my surprise, Yuzuru had already decided in his heart that he would compete no matter what condition he was in. His resolve did not waver, and I decided to accept his decision.

 

His performance was, in a sense, very dramatic. However, that doesn't mean it was a great performance. Not only did he have an injured leg, he was still in a state of shock. Yuzuru fell five times, but he got up each time and continued his performance.

 

That collision seemed to have shaken the other skaters as well. Yan, the skater he collided with, was also injured and performed terribly, and even the eventual winner, Maxim Kovtun (Russia), could not be said to have skated well. It was a terrible night for everyone.

 

By skating through to the very end through sheer willpower, Yuzuru finished second. He kept his chances of advancing to the Grand Prix Final alive. Overcome with emotion, Yuzuru was in tears. I would have liked to praise him by saying, “What a foolish but lovable son,” but I was too worried about his condition to feel completely happy. He hadn't yet undergone a detailed examination.

 

Yuzuru immediately returned to Japan for a detailed examination and treatment. The results confirmed that there was no abnormality in his brain, and that his injury was a bruise to the leg and not something that would affect his skating career. When Yuzuru reported this to me, I was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief.

 

 

 

1.8 The International Skating Union’s Response

 

Spoiler

As a coach, it was the first time I found myself in a situation where an athlete collapsed in a collision accident, and moreover, the medical staff provided by the competition organizers could not respond properly, leaving the decision of whether to compete up to the athlete and me. The doctor from the U.S. team handled the situation, but no one had the right to stop the athlete from competing of his own volition.

 

After that kind of accident, the International Skating Union (ISU) repeatedly discussed how to respond to such situations. The proposal I conveyed to the ISU was that “coaches or athletes should not be entrusted with the decision to compete or withdraw.” A neutral party should make the decision with the athlete’s safety in mind. If there had been any serious brain damage at that time and his participation in the competition had caused any permanent damage, I would have taken full responsibility for it. In fact, after the medical examination, when Yuzuru expressed his intention to compete and was allowed to participate in the six-minute practice, I said the following to the Japanese team:

 

“Even though the six-minute practice is resuming and Yuzuru is back on the ice, that does not necessarily mean he will compete. During that six-minute practice, we need to carefully watch Yuzuru’s skating and determine whether he is truly okay. He is not participating in the six-minute practice as a warm-up for the competition; rather, we are using it to assess his health and make the final decision.”

 

However, the fans greeted Yuzuru with thunderous applause, and cheers filled the arena. Everyone was swept up in the heroic narrative of him competing despite the bandage on his head. After a six-minute practice like that, there was no way Yuzuru could have said, “Actually, it still hurts, so I won’t compete.” The atmosphere in the arena was truly overwhelming. That is why I made a suggestion to the ISU: “In situations like that, I think someone else, a medical staff or team personnel, should make the decision about whether an athlete can compete. What is needed is a person who can say, ‘You cannot compete.’ In the event of an accident, the decision should not be left to the coach or the athlete.” This is not only important for coaches but ultimately for the safety and well-being of the athletes themselves.

 

At the meeting following the 2014–2015 season, the ISU changed its communication (rules) regarding medical staff. Or rather, they had no choice but to change them. Under the new rules, major international competitions must always have a medical supervisor, and that supervisor has the authority to assess injuries or accidents and, if deemed dangerous, to say, “You cannot compete.” International competitions require such universal standards. The ISU came to understand that international standards protecting athletes’ lives are necessary, rather than allowing each country to set its own standards.

 

 

 

1.9 Deliberately Assigning Hard Training After the Accident

 

Spoiler

After the Cup of China, once I confirmed that Yuzuru was safe, I decided to consider that incident behind us. My next concern, however, was that there were only three weeks between the Cup of China and the NHK Trophy.

 

More worrying than his leg injury was the potential psychological aftereffect from the shock of the accident. He would likely feel fear if other skaters approached him during practice. That is only natural for a human being. He needed a time lag to calm his mind and move past the incident. But in Japan, news about the accident, medical critiques of his decision to skate, and updates on Yuzuru’s condition continued almost daily. While receiving treatment in Japan, he could not avoid hearing such reports, and he felt responsible for the commotion they caused. Far from recovering mentally, he felt responsible for having made the decision to compete.

 

When I arrived in Osaka for the NHK Trophy and met Yuzuru for the first time in about two weeks, he seemed fine, but he wasn't in the best condition. Even so, he naturally intended to compete, and was even aiming for the Grand Prix Final. Having placed second at the Cup of China, if he placed second or third at the NHK Trophy, he could still qualify for the Final. However, I advised Yuzuru and the Japanese team as follows:

"Even if you earn the right to compete in the Grand Prix Final, it would be better for you to decline, rest, and prepare for the All Japan Championships and the World Championships." To me, there seemed to be no other option.

 

Indeed, Yuzuru’s performance was far from his usual standard. He made many mistakes and finished fourth overall. At first, it seemed his chance to advance to the Final had vanished. Usually, a combination of second at the Cup of China and fourth at the NHK Trophy would make qualification unlikely, but this year, by a twist of the numbers, he secured the last, sixth qualifying spot. It was a stroke of luck.

 

Knowing Yuzuru, of course he wouldn't decline. He was determined to give his all. Considering the travel burden of returning to Toronto to train in the week leading up to the Final in Barcelona, we decided he would train alone in Japan. I would have loved to stay in Japan with him, but I had other students in Toronto, so I had to return. Therefore, I created an original training program and gave it to Yuzuru.

 

After the NHK Trophy, I worked on the training plan while taking the Shinkansen from Osaka to Tokyo. In Tokyo, I held a press event for the publication of the previous book in this series, "Team Brian." I answered media questions, explained the misunderstanding surrounding Yuzuru's injury, and spoke about his future training plans. It must have been very difficult, both physically and mentally, for Yuzuru to face the media under those circumstances. By taking on the media responsibilities myself, I was able to reduce Yuzuru’s burden, so the press conference had meaningful value.

 

Let’s get back to the topic of his training program. The NHK Trophy ended on November 30, and there were only eight days before the travel dates for the Grand Prix Final (December 11–14). I had prepared a detailed training schedule for those eight days. Here’s what it looked like.

 

The core of each day’s training consisted of free program practice. He would skate to The Phantom of the Opera, performing all jumps and spins exactly as in competition—what is commonly called a “run-through”—and repeat this sequence twice, followed immediately by three consecutive spin exercises. That formed the daily training routine. On Mondays, in addition to this, he would do two run-throughs of the short program, Chopin’s Ballade No. 1. On Tuesdays, the first session was a warm-up to the free program music without jumps, followed by a full run-through in the second session… and so on. It was a pretty tough training program. Yuzuru welcomed it enthusiastically. When he reported back to me in Toronto, he said with a smile, “I'm practicing according to the program, but it’s really hard.”

 

Why did I assign such intense training to Yuzuru after the accident? The goal was to improve his overall condition.

 

Before the NHK Trophy, Yuzuru’s leg had largely recovered. In fact, the rest he had taken after the Cup of China had caused a drop in conditioning due to lack of training, which threw off his rhythm. The mistakes at NHK were not due to the injury but to dulled physical awareness from insufficient practice. To restore his condition, he needed cardiovascular training to improve his endurance. Therefore, the program I gave him was not meant to refine technical skills, but to strengthen his cardio and awaken a body that had been resting. Rather than focusing on technical corrections mentally, the idea was to push his body with hard training to regain form.

 

The program worked well to stimulate Yuzuru’s condition. When I reunited with him in Barcelona on December 10, he was in excellent shape. As a coach, part of me still wanted to advise him to skip the Final and focus on resting for the World Championships, but in front of a highly motivated Yuzuru, I put aside those cautious thoughts. Seeing him rise to peak condition through this demanding program, I felt impressed and determined to support him fully.

 

In the end, his performance at the Grand Prix Final was outstanding. He landed quadruple jumps in both the short and free programs and achieved back-to-back victories. He must have been pushed to his physical and mental limits. Even so, I felt a deep respect for Yuzuru, who had brought his condition to this level. Even I, the coach who had designed the training program, was amazed by his performance. It was almost unbelievable.

 

That night at the Final became an unforgettable, wonderful night. Of course, the story of Javier, which I will recount next, also added to it.

 

 

 

1.10 Extremely nervous in front of Spanish fans

 

Spoiler

While Yuzuru was having a dramatic season, Javier was also going through an important season. For me, what mattered was supporting both of them in a balanced way, so that each could shine as the protagonist in their own story. Yuzuru’s injury was a major event, but that didn’t mean I could neglect Javier. It’s just like parenting.

 

For Javier, this was the season following his fourth-place finish at the Olympics. Moreover, the Grand Prix Final was being held in his home country, so finishing in the top six of the Grand Prix series and advancing to the final was his "duty to accomplish."

 

Javier started the season with great enthusiasm and placed second at Skate Canada. Takahito Mura delivered a very strong performance and won, so it was a decent start. After that, Yuzuru’s accident occurred at the Cup of China. Since his teammate was injured, Javier felt very sympathetic. Moreover, because Yuzuru did not return to Toronto, Javier’s training environment changed unexpectedly. He tried to concentrate seriously on his own training. He then won the Rostelecom Cup and secured his place in the Grand Prix Final.

 

The Grand Prix Final being held in his home country was a first for Javier in his skating career. For skaters from Japan, Canada, the United States, China, France, and Russia, the Grand Prix series is held annually in their own country. Figure skating is a very major sport in these countries, with many knowledgeable fans. Skaters from these six countries have the annual opportunity to “perform while feeling extreme pressure from high expectations, yet draw strength from the support of the crowd.”

 

However, Javier had no experience competing in an international event in his home country. Spain had never hosted a major international figure skating competition, and very few fans there had ever seen figure skating live. I talked with Javier about this: “Competing in your home country is completely different from other competitions.” That said, the mental state of competing in your home country is something you can't really understand until you experience it. We could only watch and see how Javier would handle the pressure and what his mental state would be during the actual performance.

 

In the end, his short program was terrible. Nervousness led to a disastrous performance. He fell on a quadruple Salchow and made mistakes on other jumps as well, placing fifth out of six. He became very discouraged. Seeing him disappoint his home fans left him disappointed in himself. Javier, who is usually cheerful and attentive to everyone, becomes unapproachable and difficult to talk to when he’s down. The emotional contrast is extreme.

 

Fortunately, there was a day off between the short program on December 12 and the free program on the 14th. I thought this would give him time to reset his mindset. So I said to him:

 

“Javier, this is a perfect opportunity. With this break, you can reset your mindset. And you shouldn’t pass up the chance to use the energy of the crowd. They’ve come all the way to the arena to cheer for you. The fans of your home country are focusing all their attention on you… This is your first time experiencing this, but other skaters go through the same thing every year. You’re just experiencing it for the first time. This is difficult for anyone, so there’s no need to get overly nervous.”

 

After I told him this, Javier finally started to think about the free program. Of course, his fifth-place standing in the short program hadn’t changed, but there was no choice but to move forward. He had to experience failure and then experience success next.

 

Two days later, Javier had changed. He had completely switched his mindset. His motivation had shifted entirely, and the thoughts of “I have to win a medal because it’s my home country. At least I have to place third” had completely disappeared. He wasn’t concerned with his ranking at all. He was only thinking, “I want to skate well in the free program.” When he focused on himself like that, he was usually able to perform well. Javier was excited before the performance, successfully landed his quadruple jumps, and was able to show his strength in front of the fans. By the time Yuzuru, the last skater, was about to perform, Javier had astonishingly pulled into first place overall. He had redeemed himself.

 

Even more admirable, Javier cheered for Yuzuru, the last skater. He was truly happy and praised Yuzuru for overcoming the accident and showing his strength. What's so endearing about Javier is that even though he was waiting in the lead, he didn't think, "I want to win because it's my home country."

 

In the end, Yuzuru won the gold, and Javier took the silver. The result delighted the Spanish fans, and Javier looked visibly relieved. I was really happy to see Javier's mental growth in his first home-country competition. Yuzuru, too, was pleased with Javier’s performance, having climbed up from fifth place in the short program. Yuzuru understood well how difficult it is to skate in front of your home fans. Both of them demonstrated true sportsmanship, and as their coach, it was a moment I could be truly proud of.

 

The 2014 Grand Prix Final was the first competition in which my students held both the world No. 1 and No. 2 positions. From then until the 2016 World Championships, Yuzuru and Javier consistently claimed first and second place. I believe the key reason they maintained such remarkable results was their mutual respect and fair sportsmanship.

 

That night was truly unforgettable. It was a night when I felt almost like a father, witnessing the growth of two young men’s hearts.

 

 

 

1.11 Training Together on the Same Rink Reduces Invisible Pressure

 

Spoiler

Let me talk a little about competitions held in one’s home country. For skaters, home-country competitions are like a gateway to success, a training ground where one’s character is tested.

 

I myself have had many experiences with “home competitions.” I competed many times at Skate Canada, which corresponds to today’s Grand Prix series, and in 1984 I competed at the World Championships held in Ottawa. Canada’s national championships were also major events, much like today’s Japanese National Championships. And the most wonderful event of all was surely the 1988 Calgary Olympics.

 

Can you imagine what it would be like if Yuzuru were to compete in an Olympics held in Japan? How enormous the expectations of the fans would be, how much the media would make a fuss, and how endlessly predictions about his placement would be reported. Just imagining it is scary, isn’t it?

 

When I competed in the Calgary Olympics, it was absolute chaos. Brian Boitano of the United States and I were clearly the two dominant skaters of that era, and since we shared the same first name, the rivalry was highlighted as the “Battle of the Brians.” Boitano won the 1986 World Championships, I won in 1987, and the gold medal at the 1988 Olympics was expected to be a showdown between the two Brians.

 

Once the Olympic season began, the rivalry intensified even further. Early in the season, at Skate Canada in 1987, I placed first and Boitano second. One month before the Olympics, we each won the national championships.

 

At the time, I was 26 years old. I was already mentally mature and prepared to handle pressure effectively. However, competing in an Olympics held in one’s own country is truly grueling. For an entire year, I felt pressure in my daily life. Media attention increased dramatically, and there was hardly any time to relax. There were even days when I felt I might not only fail to contend for gold, but might not even manage second place.

 

In the end, I won the silver medal, but I successfully landed a triple Axel in the free program and skated well. At the very least, I did not fall below bronze and betray the expectations of the nation.

 

But now, nearly 30 years later, as I watched Javier and Yuzuru, I came to a new realization. Perhaps if I had trained together with Boitano under the same coach, I might have been able to approach competitions in a better mental state. When rivals train separately, out of sight of one another, the imagination runs wild. On days when I felt off, I would convince myself that Boitano must be skating brilliantly. But if, like these two today, we had trained together as close friends pushing each other forward, daily practice might have been far more positive. I would have liked to be friends with Boitano as well.

 

I came to this realization after watching Javier’s performance at the Grand Prix Final. The arena in Barcelona was built so that the distance between fans and skaters was extremely close. On top of that, there was the Latin temperament of the Spanish crowd, with thunderous cheers filling the venue. Under extreme pressure, Javier’s short program fell apart, but in the free program he transformed the cheers into strength and delivered his best performance. To overcome the pressure of a home competition so effectively, he must have had a model to follow. Yuzuru is accustomed to competing in Japan and always performs well there. If Yuzuru can do it while training beside me, then I can too… That kind of mental switch seemed to occur for Javier.

 

The rivalry between the two mirrors the dynamic between Boitano and myself in 1988. What is different, however, is that both of them are members of Team Brian, respect each other deeply, and absorb only each other’s strengths. It is impossible to measure how effective this is in reducing “invisible pressure.”

 

That Grand Prix Final became the event that inspired many Spaniards to fall in love with skating. Afterward, fans from Spain began traveling to support Javier at competitions in Canada, the United States, and France. Even when competitions were not held in his home country, Javier learned how to turn the expectations of his compatriots in the stands into strength. It won’t be long before young Spanish skaters begin to emerge, inspired by Javier. Figure skating in Spain is about to change. All it takes to change sports is one hero. South Korea is a good example. Figure skating is now one of the most popular sports in South Korea, and they successfully bid to host the PyeongChang Olympics. That boom was created by one heroine: Kim Yuna.

 

In Japan’s case, the country has consistently produced excellent skaters over the years. The generations have been connected through Emi Watanabe, Midori Ito, Yuka Sato, and Shizuka Arakawa, and among the men as well there have been nothing but big stars such as Takeshi Honda and Daisuke Takahashi. For Japanese skaters, it is a good thing that there are many predecessors who have already experienced the pressure of competing in events held in their own country.

 

Having overcome the trial of a home competition, Javier underwent a major mental transformation. “If I can skate well in my own country, then everything else will probably be easier,” he thought.

 

After the Grand Prix Final, Javier suddenly developed a strong sense of responsibility. After competing in the Spanish National Championships at the end of the year, he spent the New Year with his family to recharge, and then in January 2015, he won his third consecutive European Championship. Supported by his fans, he then set his sights on the 2015 World Championships.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

1.12 A Hero's Return to the All-Japan Championships, and Then Surgery

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru won his second consecutive title at the All-Japan Championships, solidifying his position as the top skater. However, at the same time, a serious physical issue was brewing. Throughout the competition, Yuzuru was suffering from inflammation in his abdominal area. He insisted that he would not withdraw from the event, but no one except himself could know how much pain he was in. Given that this was Yuzuru, who had competed even after the accident at the Cup of China, he would surely have chosen to compete no matter how painful it was. Even so, in both the short program and the free skate, he delivered performances that fully lived up to the fans’ expectations. They were such good performances that no one around him realized he was enduring abdominal pain. While I admired Yuzuru’s fighting spirit, I was also worried about his body.

 

On the morning after the free skate at the All-Japan Championships, Yuzuru canceled his exhibition and went to the hospital. After undergoing detailed examinations, he was diagnosed with an underlying condition and it was decided that he would undergo surgery. Misfortune struck one after another. Why, on earth, did so many hardships have to befall Yuzuru? There were continued events that were beyond my ability to support or prevent. It seems the condition was called a urachal remnant disorder. After the surgery, Yuzuru showed me photos of the affected area and explained it to me, so I looked it up on the internet to understand it. The urachus, which is supposed to degenerate after birth, remained in Yuzuru’s abdomen. While some people leave it untreated even into adulthood, in Yuzuru’s case it became infected with bacteria and caused inflammation.

 

The surgery was quite extensive. Since it was an open abdominal operation, an incision was made in his abdominal muscles. For an athlete, undergoing open abdominal surgery in the middle of the season is fatal. Cutting the fascia of the abdominal muscles reduces strength, and for a while after surgery, he wouldn’t even be able to engage his abdominal muscles. On top of that, the surgery required a two-week hospital stay and a month of rest, meaning he would need complete rest until late February. Honestly, I thought, “It would be better to let him take the rest of the season off.” Forcing himself and risking a severe injury would be detrimental to his future.

 

But knowing Yuzuru, I knew he wanted to compete in the World Championships Therefore, so as not to disrupt his motivation by telling him to take a break, I decided to wait for Yuzuru to contact me first.

 

After being discharged from the hospital, Yuzuru began with light self-training in Japan. Since his muscle strength had declined following the surgery, I kept in close contact with him via email, carefully checking his condition and feeling my way toward a new training plan. Every day, we exchanged emails, and I would ask about his condition that day and then decide the next day’s practice This process was repeated over and over. Fortunately, he provided detailed reports on his physical recovery, the progress after surgery, and his training, so I gradually began to look forward to the World Championships in Shanghai.

 

Ideally, I would have liked him to train in Toronto even for a short period, but since the temperature in Toronto was below freezing and Yuzuru also had a mild sprain, we chose to err on the side of caution and have him continue training in Japan until the end of March. As a result, the place where I was finally able to reunite with Yuzuru was Shanghai, the host city of the World Championships. I was relieved to see that he looked unchanged. Despite having only about a month of proper training after surgery, his skating, jumps and everything else had been brought to a level where he could compete for victory at the World Championships. It was truly impressive.

 

My only concern was that it was the same venue where the collision accident at the Cup of China had occurred. Borrowing an English expression, it was a situation where he “had some demons to deal with.” The same hotel, the same bus, the same venue. Several media outlets also asked, “It’s the same venue, does he have any trauma? Any fear?” But Yuzuru was remarkable. He answered confidently, “It’s a completely different competition, so it doesn’t matter. I’m not worried about it at all.”

 

When we actually arrived at the venue, I realized my worries were unnecessary. The World Championships had their own unique tension and aura, and it was a completely different competition from the Cup of China. The energy enveloping the arena was entirely different. That lifted Yuzuru’s condition even further, and his practices went well. Depending on the first day’s practice, I had been prepared to offer advice to help dispel trauma or fear, but that too was needless concern on my part. Perhaps because I felt relieved, I could also tell that Yuzuru felt reassured upon reuniting with his Toronto coaches and teammates. At last, all the members of Team Brian were together again.

 

Meanwhile, Javier had been training with us in Toronto since January. Javier is the type who works best when he has teammates around to joke around with and be inspired by. An environment where he was aiming for the World Championships alone seemed a bit lonely for him.

 

Perhaps to forget that loneliness, for the three months from January, Javier did not say a single word about Yuzuru. Japanese people and officials coming in and out of the rink were talking about Yuzuru, and he got information from the internet, but Javier himself never spoke about Yuzuru. He also avoided talking about rivals and focused solely on himself. This was good concentration. That is why I did not give Javier reports like, “This is Yuzuru’s situation.” It wasn’t that they were on bad terms; it was a healthy relationship.

 

For Javier, those three months were not so much about growth as they were about hiding his loneliness deep in his heart and concentrating only on the tasks right in front of him. If Javier had been a bit more aggressive, he might have tried to take advantage of Yuzuru’s weakened state and aim to win the World Championships. But Javier is humble, and being close to Yuzuru, he clearly understood that Yuzuru was in a class of his own. That’s why, while practicing without Yuzuru, we never set “winning the World Championships” as our goal. If, just because Yuzuru was not there, I had tried to make only Javier win, I would have lost the trust of both of them.

 

 

 

1.13 A Dead Heat Between 1st and 2nd After the Short Program

 

Spoiler

At last, the World Championships themselves began. In the short program, although Yuzuru made a few small mistakes, he took first place with 95.20 points, while Javier scored 92.74 points. The decision for the 2015 World Champion had been brought to a battle between my two students.

 

In the free skate, Yuzuru made mistakes on three jumps. Javier had prepared one more quadruple jump in his free program, so it became clear that the outcome had been placed in Javier’s hands. However, I am the coach of both skaters. The psychology of trying to make one of them win invites disaster, and I had never thought that way to begin with. After seating Yuzuru in the Kiss & Cry, I immediately went over to Javier and gave him the same advice I always do. I made no comment on Yuzuru's performance. It would have been the same even if their skating order had been reversed. That is fair sportsmanship, and it is the attitude required of a coach.

 

Yuzuru’s score was 175.88 points, which was not his best score. In the free skate, Denis Ten (Kazakhstan), who had already finished skating earlier, was in the lead for the free skate. Since Yuzuru was leading in the overall standings, attention in the arena focused on the question: “Who will win—the Javier who is yet to skate, or Yuzuru, who is currently in first?” However, in the back of my mind, Denis’s performance lingered in my memory, and I felt he carried strong momentum. A coach’s job at the World Championships is not only to support their own students, but also to monitor the development of rivals and scoring trends. While athletes focus on themselves, coaches must survey the entire competition. That is why I instinctively felt that Denis needed to be watched closely.

 

After training under a Russian coach and learning the Russian style, Denis moved to work with the renowned American coach Frank Carroll. The foundation of Denis’s skating now reflects Carroll’s signature American style, characterized by highly refined, beautifully pointed landings and clean lines through the back. I kept in mind that this kind of performance was highly praised, intending to use it as a reference for coaching next season.

 

Let’s return to Javier. Javier went out onto the ice without knowing anything about Yuzuru’s performance, and aside from falling on a quadruple Salchow, he put together his program fairly well overall. A coach can roughly tell the score without waiting for it to be announced. I calculated it in my head and thought that, in total score, Javier would be the champion. When Yuzuru won the Sochi Olympics, Patrick Chan was still to skate afterward, so the outcome was undecided and we couldn’t celebrate together in the Kiss & Cry. But this time, Javier was about to become a World Champion for the first time. I was excited, thinking about what kind of congratulatory words I should say to him.

 

However, Javier’s mind was filled with the fact that he had made several mistakes, and he was convinced that he had lost to Yuzuru. Then his free-skate score of 181.16 points was displayed, and the scoreboard showed “2nd place.” This meant “second place in the free skate,” since Denis had placed first in the free. But Javier thought, “Yuzuru is first overall, and I’m second,” so he didn’t show much reaction. That’s when I said, “No, no, wait a moment.” Then the big screen displayed the final result: “Total 273.90 points, 1st place.”

 

Javier realized that he had won, but he was surprised and confused. Watching his reaction right next to him was a bit amusing. It was an honest response.

 

While I felt proud of Javier, Yuzuru crossed my mind at the same time. After overcoming such a difficult season, he had missed victory by the narrowest margin. It must have been frustrating. That’s why I had to be careful about how I behaved. I couldn’t jump up and shout with joy. If it were misunderstood that I was celebrating only Javier’s victory, it would hurt Yuzuru. So after stepping away from the TV cameras, I said this to Javier:

 

“Now your life has changed forever. You are a World Champion. It’s an eternal honor. No one can ever take that title away from you. Winning a world title changes your life.”

 

It was the moment when four years of effort for Javier and me finally paid off. In reality, winning a World Championship or Olympic title truly does change your life. You earn more money, and at the same time you take on greater responsibility. That’s why athletes need to be wise. Javier was ready for that. He understood that this victory was not just his own joy, but something important for his fans and for the Spanish skating community. As Spain’s first World Champion, his name was written into a page of Spanish history.

 

At the press conference, both Yuzuru and Javier were exemplary athletes. They looked at each other and talked amicably. Javier is a likable man, loved by everyone. Yuzuru is a respected athlete whose achievements inspire people. The feelings people have toward these two athletes are different kinds of admiration.

 

At this World Championships, Nam also did well, finishing fifth, so my students placed first, second, and fifth. It was truly wonderful. After the competition, I returned to the hotel and walked through the lobby with a bit of pride swelling in my chest. I’m sure those around me could see it. I first went to the Canadian team to express my appreciation to the Canadian skaters and staff who had competed at Worlds. Even if your own students win gold and silver, it is important in this world to first show proper respect to those who have supported you. After that, I went to the room where the Spanish officials had gathered and toasted with Javier and the others with champagne. It was a very warm, relaxed night.

 

I took a slightly different approach with Yuzuru. Javier is the type for whom a cheerful toast is enough to make everything okay, but Yuzuru needed words that made sense logically in order to move forward. Just before leaving the venue, I spoke to Yuzuru: “It’s been an incredibly turbulent year. So many things happened this year. I’m proud of you for getting through this unbelievable season.”

 

In my mind, collisions, injuries, surgery… so many things flashed by like a revolving lantern. How hard this season truly was is something only Yuzuru himself can understand. I couldn’t say, “I know how you feel.” The only thing I could say was this:

 

“Now, let’s reset and move forward.”

 

 

 

1.14 Commentary - 2014–2015 Season

 

Spoiler

In this season, Team Brian began a new four-year cycle aimed at the PyeongChang Olympics. The top two students were Hanyu, the Sochi Olympic champion, and Javier Fernández, who had narrowly finished fourth. For their coach, Brian Orser, the 2014 off-season was a critical test of his skills: he had to decide what goals to set for these two skaters, whose results had sharply diverged, and how to rebuild the team. The month after the Olympics, Fernández won a bronze medal at the World Championships held in Saitama, which made him acutely aware that he had been within reach of an Olympic medal.

 

“It proved that the effort I put in for the Olympics wasn’t wasted, and I realized I could aim for a medal. I want to become a skater who can go to the PyeongChang Olympics and declare, ‘I’m aiming for a medal.’”

 

For Fernández, who was not the type to publicly declare goals, this was almost certainly his first “Olympic medal declaration.”

 

On the other hand, Hanyu was not satisfied with the status of being an Olympic champion.

 

“Just because I became an Olympic champion doesn’t mean my feelings toward skating have changed. My desire to ‘work hard and grow’ will continue.”

 

After declaring that, he set the challenge of “including a quadruple jump in the second half of the program” as one step toward further evolution.

 

However, once the 2014–2015 season began, trials on an entirely different level struck Hanyu one after another. At the Cup of China, he collided with Han Yan during the six-minute warm-up for the free skate and was injured. In addition to a bruised thigh, he suffered cuts to his head and chin that caused bleeding. Even so, he chose to compete, skated through to the end, and finished second. But this was not something that could be dismissed as mere grit. The bleeding from the side of his head gave the impression that “he competed despite having a concussion,” which sparked a public outcry and became a social issue. It was an event that made everyone realize just how much influence Hanyu’s status as an Olympic champion and his popularity had on society.

 

Furthermore, at the end of the year, Hanyu was hospitalized due to abdominal pain from a urachal remnant condition and underwent open abdominal surgery. January became a period of complete rest. Unable to return to Toronto, he trained independently in Japan while staying in contact with Orser by email, aiming to defend his World Championship title.

 

As for Fernández, he had become, as if transformed, a young man who trained diligently. While he remained cheerful and approachable with everyone and continued to be the team’s mood-maker, he had begun to feel a different kind of pressure and the joy that comes with success. Moreover, the Grand Prix Final was held in Spain for the first time, and he felt the responsibility of being Spain’s only top skater.

 

“Figure skating is still not a popular sport in Spain. For most people, this will be their first time seeing it live. That’s why I want to perform in a way that makes everyone in Spain love figure skating.”

 

With that resolve, Fernández placed fifth in the short program after succumbing to the pressure, but in the free skate, he channeled his hometown pride into strength, placed second, and won the silver medal. Gaining confidence, he went on to win the European Championships for the third consecutive year. At the World Championships, he successfully landed one quadruple jump in the short program and two in the free skate, claiming his first World Championship title.

 

“I truly thought Yuzuru would win. This is Spain’s first-ever World Championship gold medal. It was a dream, but just a dream. However, since I started training alongside Yuzuru, I’ve been inspired by him, and both my mindset and training intensity have changed. I want to say thank you to my coaches who supported me, and to Yuzuru.”

 

At the press conference, Fernández became emotional and his eyes filled with tears. Then Hanyu, the silver medalist sitting beside him, said:

 

“Until now, whenever I won at competitions we skated together in, Javier would always say, ‘Congratulations, I’m proud of you, Yuzuru.’ This time our positions were reversed. I’m competitive, so I’m frustrated and want to win next time. But at the same time, it made me realize how happy it is to see a teammate win."

 

Not only are they rivals, but because they are also teammates, they are able to become stronger. What pushed the two strongest skaters to evolve even further was the unity of Team Brian.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 2
The Secret of Our Strength
 

 

2.1 The Unusual Fatigue After a Great Season

 

Spoiler

Javier had grown into a first-time world champion, and Yuzuru demonstrated the perseverance to overcome a difficult season. The 2014–2015 season was full of major achievements, but, to be honest, what I truly felt was, “I am really exhausted.” The results left by the two of them were “all good in the end,” but rather than a feeling of exhilaration, I felt a kind of unsatisfied fatigue.

 

Even if Yuzuru’s injuries and illness were unavoidable, as a coach I wondered if I could have offered better support… Because I focused so much on Yuzuru and Javier, were there areas in which guidance for the other skaters fell short…? Even though it was the season after the Olympics, when I should have felt some leeway, I felt more exhausted than in the Sochi season.

 

After the 2015 World Championships ended and the skaters dispersed to ice shows and vacations around the world, I reflected on the year alone. What exactly was this unusual fatigue…? The first thing I realized was the “number of skaters” That is, the “size of Team Brian.”

 

Immediately after the 2014 Sochi Olympics, requests poured in from many skaters and coaches as if to say, “If you go to Team Brian, they’ll work their magic on you.” Many coaches wanted to work there, and many skaters called or emailed hoping to become students. After the Sochi Olympics, Team Brian must have been one of the most popular destinations in the world. However, there was only one rink, and if the number of skaters became too large, it would be dangerous to practice in a crowded space. If too many coaches joined, the sense of unity toward a common goal would diminish.

 

To be honest, I am not good at saying “no.” It's really hard to turn down requests from young people who are trying to improve their skating careers. I found it difficult to say “no.” I added a few skaters within what I considered an appropriate range.

 

In my team, I do not teach everyone alone. Twenty-five coaches work together as one to train all the skaters. There are specialized coaches for spins, jumps, skating, and artistry, and there are coaches skilled at teaching the basics to children. I consider each skater’s entire season schedule and the direction of their instruction and give individual lessons at key points. So even if a few skaters were added, I thought it was possible to maintain the quality of instruction. In fact, some of the newly added students blossomed beautifully, so I do not regret increasing the number. I take great joy in the support my team was able to provide.

 

For example, the prodigy Stephan Gogolev, born in December 2004. He is a Russian-Canadian and everyone calls him the “Little Plushenko.” He is ambitious and does what is necessary for his own evolution, much like Evgeni Plushenko (Russia).

 

Cha Junhwan, a promising new skater from South Korea, also joined the team. I already knew from Yuna’s case how devoted Korean parents are, and Jun-hwan’s parents also gave their full support. Born in October 2001, at only 13 years old during the 2014–2015 season, he stood on the podium at the Korean National Championships and emerged as a potential ace for the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics.

 

As of the summer of 2014, both Stephan and Junhwan were bundles of talent that had yet to fully blossom. Depending on how they were nurtured, the results could have been disappointing, but in just one year, both showed remarkable growth. Many of the skaters added after Sochi developed in this way, which shows that Team Brian was doing a good job. However, to execute a true evolution plan taking four or five years, more thorough guidance is required.

 

I've spent the past year keeping a close eye on all the skaters. Facing children with such extraordinary talent, my feeling of fatigue outweighed excitement. I realized that the team could not accommodate more skaters.

 

Generally speaking, the head of an organization, such as a CEO, wants to grow the organization bigger and bigger. If I were running a skating school, the more students came, the more profitable it would be, so growing would seem like a good thing.

 

But I'm not a business owner. What is important to me is carefully nurturing an appropriate number of skaters. Ideally, I would teach one skater for 30 minutes, then Tracy Wilson would teach skating skills for 30 minutes, then Paige Aistrop would teach spins for 30 minutes, and so on. In this way, one of the multiple coaches is always keeping an eye on each athlete. If there aren’t enough coaches and the athletes are left to mostly train on their own, it’s pointless. Each athlete has different strengths and weaknesses; some thrive when praised, while others respond better to strict guidance. Having a diverse team of coaches who rotate in and out to support each other is what makes Team Brian unique.

 

This is a common scenario at other rinks. Once a top skater emerges, word spreads, and new skaters from around the world flock to the team. This can make it difficult for coaches to provide adequate guidance, and the original top skaters may end up leaving. There are also teams that think if they just bring in a lot of skaters, some talented ones are bound to be among them. Both of these are situations my team wants to avoid.

 

Team Brian also needed early countermeasures. To reassess the size of the team, I decided, “From now on, I will refuse any requests.” As expected, starting the day after the 2015 World Championships, new coaching requests arrived. I found myself repeatedly turning down offers, something I'd never done before in my life. My priority was to protect the members of Team Brian. Every time a phone call or email came in, I swallowed my feelings and turned them down.

 

“I’m sorry, but could you please contact us again after the next Olympics? I wish you the best of luck.”

 

And I added this:

 

“Team Brian is just the right size right now. If we increase the number of skaters any further, the quality of coaching will decline.”

 

Among the applicants were golden prospects and international medalists. But there was no choice. Each time I pressed ‘send’ on a rejection email, my determination to protect all the athletes on Team Brian and to carry out my four-year plan for them only grew stronger.

 

 

 

2.2 Happiness in Team Brian

 

Spoiler

By spring 2015, I realized I was already 54 years old. If I were in my 30s or 40s, I might devote all my time to work. But I also need balance. In life, balance is necessary in everything.

 

When I first started coaching Yuna, I was only 44. I was still performing in ice shows, still able to dance myself, and full of energy to build my coaching career. It felt like just yesterday I was in that position, but now I was 54. I’m no longer at the age where I can sacrifice sleep and work long hours without consequence. In terms of physical ability, even now I could push myself to stand and coach from 8 a.m. to 8 p.m., seven days a week, surviving on sandwiches from the rink café for breakfast and lunch. But it became clear that I needed to take a serious look at my own life.

 

Looking back on the year, I realized I hadn’t taken proper rest after the Olympics. After the 2014 World Championships, I took about two weeks off and visited the town in northern Toronto where my alma mater is located. I told myself, “It’s been a long time since I had a vacation, so I want to relax,” and tried to keep phone calls to a minimum. But in reality, I was constantly simulating when each athlete would resume training, arranging choreography for the next season, and imagining the competitive landscape for the next season. Even on vacation, my mind was restless.

 

By mid-April, we began preparations for the new four-year cycle. Once practice began, lessons continued every morning, starting at 8 a.m. Top skaters like Yuzuru and the others had time off, but the elementary and middle school kids, inspired by the Olympics, came to practice every day. I had no chance to rest. I continued on through the spring of 2015, skipping even a summer vacation. It was only natural that I felt exhausted.

 

After winning the Olympics with Yuna and Yuzuru, I realized I had unconsciously become fixated on the goal of “victory.” However, in the 2014–2015 season, Javier and Yuzuru won gold and silver at the World Championships, achieving results beyond what I could have hoped for. This allowed me to shift my focus to something more important than victory: returning to the fundamental question, “Are the members of Team Brian happy right now?”

 

What is happiness in Team Brian? I think it is balance. Practice is tough, and there are times of anxiety, tears, and setbacks. But it's important for the skaters to overcome these challenges, evolve, achieve results in competitions, and rediscover their love for skating. I want them to feel, “It’s tough, but I’m happy to have found skating.”

 

For that, it’s not enough for me to simply teach techniques. I must create a creative and inspiring practice environment, and instill passion and motivation. That is my coaching. If I were to come to the rink saying, “I’m so tired, I haven’t slept at all, I haven't had a break since this morning, I’m exhausted,” everyone would lose motivation. I must always radiate good energy to stimulate the skaters. My coach when I was young, Doug Leigh, was like this too. He always played music loudly and energetically, so the skaters would get fired up no matter what.

 

Now that we’re ramping up for the PyeongChang Olympics, it would be a problem if I were tired. A coach who can’t manage themselves can’t properly manage their athletes. When you’re mentally drained, good ideas don’t come, and even small setbacks feel discouraging. But when I’m full of energy, any problem feels like a challenge I can take on, thinking, "Bring it on. I’ll handle this!"

 

I realized at 54 that I needed to find balance and manage myself. For the 2015–2016 season, I changed my rest pattern. Previously, I had weekends off, driving back on Fridays after lessons to visit my father in northern Toronto. My father is elderly, so he looks forward to spending time with me. But on Friday nights, the suburban roads were heavily congested, leaving me exhausted upon arrival. So, I scheduled lessons on Saturdays, taking Sundays and Mondays off. This worked very well. Visiting my father became truly enjoyable, a time to unwind both mentally and physically. As a result, I spent fewer weekends at my Toronto home.

 

When I take a vacation in Toronto, I end up sitting at a desk with a computer and before I know it, I’m doing research on the internet. I think about program music and practice plans, simulate which competitions to enter my skaters in, and even check the names of rival skaters and the judges for the season. When I'm at home, I end up immersed in work.

 

While staying at my father’s house, I physically detached myself from skating, walking by the lake or boating. I don’t talk about skating with family or old friends, instead spending time on conversations about relatives or other casual topics. Except for emergencies, I didn’t respond to work emails. I find that this allows me to head to practice on Tuesdays feeling energized. Even though there was a time when completely disconnecting from skating made me uneasy, at 54, I now see that taking time to recharge is actually an effective way to build energy.

 

Having rested, I fully focus on the students when I’m at the rink. During free time, I would consult with as many athletes, coaches, and parents as possible. I didn’t mind missing lunch. Even if I stepped out for 2–3 minutes to grab coffee, someone would already come to consult, and I could always welcome them saying, “Good to see you. Tell me anything.”

 

Vacations work the same way. If you take time off, you must rest not only your body but also your mind. We in skating often feel that if we travel without our skates, that counts as a vacation. But if you spend it thinking about skating, it’s not a real vacation. After the 2015 World Championships in Shanghai, I planned a family vacation. I invited my sister and a friend to the championships, then visited tourist spots in China, including the Great Wall. It was the best trip.

 

 

 

2.3 Each Skater is the Main Character

 

Spoiler

This happened after I changed how I spent my time off and some time had passed. I was finally able to look at my own heart objectively.

 

One of the causes of fatigue in the 2014–2015 season was a number of special circumstances surrounding Yuzuru. A coach is like a parent and naturally wants their athletes to be healthy and happy. However, I could do nothing about Yuzuru’s difficulties and felt stressed. Watching Yuzuru fight alone, I too probably felt lonely. But the one having the hardest time is Yuzuru, so I couldn’t tell anyone, “The coach is having a hard time too.”

 

However, once my mental fatigue was gone and I became more positive, I was finally able to acknowledge the part of myself that had been suppressing the suffering. I was able to accept those days and digest them into the past. The same was true for all my other worries. At first, I was worried about how to motivate Javier, who had become a world champion for the first time, but I reconsidered and thought it would be fine just to watch over him. I also started to come up with many practice ideas for other skaters. I realized that a rested mind becomes positive more easily than a tired one.

 

Once I finally organized my feelings, I realized how much I had tried in the 2014–2015 season to make only Yuzuru and Javier win. Of course, with a team of 25 coaches working together, it wasn’t that the guidance for other skaters was lacking, and I personally also held individual lessons at least once a week. However, much of my attention and interest was concentrated only on the top two. This was a frightening situation. I once again began to make plans, with the happiness of all my students at heart.

 

For athletes in their prime stage of growth, the off-season is a crucial time to build up explosive power. Rather than experimenting with various psychological tactics in competition, it is more important to improve one’s actual ability through practice. That is why, during this off-season, I devoted myself wholeheartedly to taking care of the younger skaters.

 

By April–May, some skaters still hadn’t decided on their programs. Starting with those who take longer to memorize choreography and skate it through, I called them one by one and held meetings about music selection with choreographers and their parents.

 

I also carried out maintenance on everyone’s skating boots. The durability of boots varies by skater. Some, like Yuna, change them frequently every two months, while others, like Javier, wear them through the whole season to break them in. In any case, the off-season is the time to replace boots. However, new boots can cause various problems. It's normal for the shoes to rub against the feet and cause inflammation. Some skaters develop technical issues because the blade and boot connection is bad. At times, the type of boot itself must be changed to match a skater’s growth.

 

I have to determine whether a skater’s sense of “discomfort” is due to an injury, the boots, or the blades. If it’s due to equipment, I drive the skater to the skate shop, explain to the craftsman, and have them make the necessary adjustments.

 

I was also involved in costume selection. If left to the skater or parents, they will make a costume they want to wear. A costume should not be a dress to make you look cute, but a battle outfit that hides a strategy. If you think, “This is a fast-paced program, so I want a costume that makes movements look crisp,” then costumes with large frills that make movements look soft are no good. Purposeful design is important.

 

Next is the annual schedule. Starting with the local competition in Toronto in the summer, skaters test their abilities through many small competitions. Keeping track of everything is a lot of work, and some skaters would even forget to register unless I kept an eye on them.

 

International competitions begin in August with the Junior Grand Prix and in October with the Senior Grand Prix. Once entries for international competitions are completed, I check which judges will attend which events. Because it is not possible to actively exchange information with judges during the competition period, I make a point of asking them in advance about rule revisions and scoring changes. In addition, as usual, I invite a qualified technical official to the rink to conduct tests, such as determining what level a spin position will receive.

 

I provide all of this support to all skaters, regardless of their level. I did not only provide intensive care to top skaters like Yuzuru and Javier. I treated each skater as the main character. I meticulously take care of them as if I were their mother, planning their skating careers.

 

In the summer, top skaters return all at once after vacations and shows. With more skaters present, I consider how to manage the daily sessions. I keep in mind what each skater in the same session is working on and watch them carefully. Even when teaching Javier, I keep an eye on Yuzuru, Elizabet Tursynbaeva (Kazakhstan), Stephan Gogolev, and Cha Jun-hwan. If Stephan becomes obsessed with practicing a quadruple Salchow and starts falling badly, I call him over and say:

 

“If you fall like that, you’ll get injured. Stop for today and just skate lightly.”

 

If Elizabet skips steps she finds difficult, I call her over again:

 

“Redo from the steps and jump within that flow.”

 

In this way, I give each skater sufficient attention. It is important that every skater feels, “I am always being taken care of by Brian.”

 

 

 

2.4 Building a great community

 

Spoiler

I was able to establish a clear direction for the care of skaters other than Yuzuru and Javier during the off-season. Next came the time to seriously consider how to evolve Yuzuru and Javier up to the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

The 2014 world champion was Yuzuru, and the 2015 world champion was Javier. In the next Olympics, both of them would not be challengers, but the ones being chased. It would be a difficult battle. Yuna also experienced being a world champion before facing the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, but she overcame immense pressure. I still remember the words Yuna spoke immediately after finishing her free skate at the Olympics:

 

“I wasn’t nervous at all. It was just like any other practice session at the Cricket Club.”

 

It shows just how wonderful the usual practice environment at the Cricket Club was for Yuna. The moment she stepped outside the club building, she would be surrounded by media and fans. Those four years carried immense pressure on her alone, but as long as she was inside the club, Yuna felt safe. She even felt the familiar, warm, and supportive training environment when she went to the Vancouver venue.

 

This was an important hint. What had led Yuna to victory? The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t clever strategies or techniques, but the overall environment of the Cricket Club. That reminded me of a keyword. When Tracy and I first took on coaching at this club, what we decided was “to build a community.”

 

I was born in a small town in northern Toronto. Tracy is also from a small town. In small towns, everyone helps each other. When someone achieves something wonderful, everyone celebrates as if it were their own accomplishment. They help each other and share joy. In the same way, Tracy and I thought to make the Cricket Club not just a practice rink, but a community like a village. Because Toronto is a big city where neighbors often don’t know each other, we felt the Cricket Club should become a community.

 

The Cricket Club offers not only athletes’ classes but also adult classes. These are people who skate for their health or simply for the joy and purpose it brings to their lives. Their session times are two hours, at either 9:30 a.m. or 11:30 a.m. on weekdays—golden hours that had never been changed in the club’s more than 50-year history. Housewives and retirees enjoy lunch in the lounge after practice while watching the elite skaters’ sessions that start in the afternoon. During the athletes’ breaks, they offer words of encouragement like “Good luck in your next competition” and gently correct any poorly behaved younger skaters. For young skaters, who usually have little interaction with adults, it is a place to learn how to speak respectfully to seniors.

 

During the Sochi Olympics and the 2016 World Championships, they made banners and decorated the rink walls. Handmade banners saying “Good Luck Yuzu” or “Good Luck Javi.” Some even raised funds for skaters who did not have sufficient resources, covering costs for costumes and choreography. It was truly wonderful.

 

The ice maintenance staff is also an essential part of the community. He has been working at the Cricket Club for about 30 years. He takes tremendous pride in the ice he maintains and carefully ensures that skaters can practice safely and effectively. After resurfacing the ice with the Zamboni, he fills in the holes made by jumps manually, one by one, every hour. Before a skater goes to a competition, he wishes them “Good luck.”

 

During major competitions like the World Championships, everyone gathers together to watch the games on the big TV in the lounge, including skaters who are not competing, adult class members, and club staff. Before being “Team Japan” or “Team Spain,” we are all part of a community called “Team Cricket.” Within this community, top athletes don’t mistakenly think they’re superior just because they skate better. People of all ages help one another, show respect, and share wonderful experiences together. I became convinced that this community was what supported Yuna at the Olympics and the secret to our strength.

 

 

 

2.5 A Goal Even More Wonderful Than Winning the World Championships

 

Spoiler

Why did “community” give Yuna the strength to repel the pressure at the Olympics? Will it similarly become mental strength for Yuzuru and Javier? For other skaters? For other coaches?

 

Exactly ten years after I became head coach of the Cricket Club and vowed to build a community, I decided it was time to reconsider the significance of community. So, I held a meeting to reaffirm this goal for myself and my coaches. One afternoon in early spring 2015, I wrote the following on the whiteboard:

 

“What is a community?”

“What is the role of a coach in a community?”

 

Various words came out from each coach.

 

“Support, happiness, manners, kindness, awareness, common sense, tolerance, trust, safety, productivity, growth, patience, communication, understanding...”

 

There was no wrong answer. In fact, there isn’t really a “correct” answer. I wanted all the coaches to think about the meaning of community, understand each other, and feel that they themselves are an important member of this community. For all of us, it was a wonderful mental exercise. Later, a friend's mother embroidered these words into a quilt, making a large blanket. She was battling cancer, yet she made this quilt while fighting the illness. That blanket is still displayed in the coaches’ room.

 

Why am I so particular about things outside of skating practice? The true purpose of teaching skating is not simply to make students win competitions. Moreover, not everyone can become a top-level athlete, nor will everyone necessarily have a career related to skating in the future. As coaches, we tend to forget this, because our lives are so centered around skating, but our students have the right to choose whether they're happy with skating as their only focus. That is why Tracy and I want the lives of our skaters to be rich and fulfilling even after they leave this rink.

 

If they practice only to win, they come to expect support from coaches and parents as a given, becoming self-centered, relying on others for everything, and growing into people who cannot appreciate those around them. But if they grow within a community, they learn to appreciate support, respect each other—the skaters, coaches, and staff—and this benefits them when they enter society. I want them to be able to greet elders properly, show respect, grow as individuals, and take responsibility for themselves. This is something I realized once again.

 

“That’s right. Team Brian is a community.”

 

Perhaps too much had happened—Yuzuru’s injuries and illnesses, the two of them winning the World Championships, the growing number of skaters and the small daily incidents that came with it… Before I knew it, I was struggling with something I had always been confident in: team organization. Then I remembered that these worries weren’t necessary. All I had to do was return to the "original intention" that Tracy and I had pledged back in 2006.

 

Our community, “Cricket Village,” functions well. Therefore, when skaters are here, they can focus on practice with peace of mind. Top skaters like Yuzuru, Javier, or Yuna are simply skaters here. They can be themselves, and if they have a bad day and perform poorly, it won’t spread on social media. Even if they get injured, it won’t leak outside. Why? Because this is a community.

 

The important thing is to create a comfortable place where everyone can perform to their full potential. By allowing skaters and coaches to grow in this environment, we can go beyond mere wins and losses and create a major trend of "breaking new ground in figure skating." I'm sure Team Brian can do that.

 

Thinking that way filled me with energy. Yuzuru and Javier could now aim for something even more wonderful than first or second place at the World Championships. A sense of excitement and anticipation spread through me. The new season was already right around the corner.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 3
Two World Champions, Two Comrades in Arms (2015-2016 Season)

 

 

3.1 Awareness of being a top skater

 

Spoiler

Summer 2015. Yuzuru, Javier, and I began working on the new season filled with plenty of energy and ideas. We were ready to evolve. Every day felt so fresh that I almost found myself saying it out loud.

 

In late June 2015, because Yuzuru and Javier were appearing in “Fantasy on Ice” held in Kanazawa, I flew to Japan. Having become a world champion and suddenly in high demand, Javier’s life had completely changed. He traveled around the world, from Japan to China to Spain, without any clear plans for the new season. If we procrastinated, the new season would arrive in no time. We needed to discuss the direction of the season early and finish choreographing the programs. However, in Kanazawa, Javier said this:

 

“I'll start working on my free program after my August vacation.”

 

So I replied like this:

 

“Javier, you want to enjoy your vacation too, right? If a big task like the free program is still left undone, you won’t be able to enjoy your time off. If you finish it and record it on video before you leave, you'll be able to relax, forget about everything, and refresh your mind.”

 

This was also something I myself had felt from reflecting on the 2014–2015 season. During the off-season vacation, you must forget about skating and relax one hundred percent from the heart. Simply resting the body alone is not enough to build the motivation needed to fight hard for a full year as a world-class skater. Javier seemed convinced by my explanation, and he followed my advice and immediately began working on his program.

 

Javier's August vacation was less than a month away, and his schedule was packed with shows in Spain. Therefore, we decided to finish the choreography while he was in Spain. The short program, “Malagueña,” was entrusted to Antonio Najarro, a flamenco dancer and talented figure skating choreographer. Since Javier, a Spaniard, would be skating flamenco, we wanted to create something of authentic quality that even Spaniards would find convincing. David Wilson, who usually creates the free program, traveled from Toronto to Spain to choreograph the free program. It was the theme song from the film "Guys and Dolls,' passionately sung by Frank Sinatra. I will talk in detail later about the strategy behind choosing this Sinatra piece.

 

After that, in August, we held a summer camp for children in Madrid, Spain. This event was our first attempt of its kind. Thanks to Javier’s success, interest in skating had been gradually rising in Spain. I coached the first week, Tracy coached the second week, and Javier participated for two weeks as a demonstrator.

 

It was a really fun event. For eight hours every day, Javier demonstrated and worked hard for the local children. The children ranged widely in level and age, from those jumping single Axels to those practicing triple jumps. But all of them were thrilled by the skating experience, their eyes shining. During these two weeks, Javier was a truly excellent teacher, taking good care of the children and giving precise instructions. Even after teaching eight hours every day for two weeks, his motivation never dropped. Javier showed an even stronger side of himself as a hard worker than usual.

 

There was something that made me even happier. During the camp, whenever he had even a moment of free time, Javier would work on his new programs. Even though it wasn’t competition or official practice, he treated each part of choreography carefully and seriously, skating with energy. He was overflowing with the desire of “I can’t wait to practice more.” At that moment, I clearly realized it: “Javi has truly become a top skater.”

 

In just about three months since the World Championships, Javier had changed completely. Perhaps the constant praise he received as a champion made him re-evaluate his position. Perhaps the pure passion and intense gazes of the children he met at the camp gave rise to a new sense of responsibility. When Kim Yuna became world champion, and when Yuzuru became Olympic champion in Sochi, there were also moments like this when I felt, “Ah, they’ve reached the summit.” As a coach, it's these moments of personal growth that make me happy, even more so than the victory itself.

 

When someone becomes a champion, they go in one of two directions. They either feel satisfied with their World Championship result, or they use that experience as a springboard to aim even higher. I wondered silently, “Which path will Javier take?” without voicing my opinion. Javier clearly chose the latter. He trained rigorously with the goal of the next Olympics and was filled with the desire to win. Even the way he walked had changed; there was a new sense of calm about him. He had grown into someone who possessed the distinctive sense of responsibility and confidence that only those who stand at the very top of the world can truly understand.

 

After the children’s camp in Spain ended, we then held a training camp for my skaters in a town north of Toronto. Javier trained hard at this camp as well, and with the satisfaction of having given it everything he had, he went on vacation. He spent two weeks traveling along the southern coast of Spain with his family. They traveled in a camper van, set up tents to sleep, and fully immersed themselves in nature. Completely forgetting about skating and refreshing both mind and body, he returned to Toronto in late August, just as planned, overflowing with energy.

 

 

 

3.2 Yuzuru’s Attention to Detail

 

Spoiler

In the 2014–2015 season, Yuzuru not only won the Sochi Olympic title but also overcame hardships to become a superstar. The next season carried a great responsibility: how would he grow, both as a person and as an athlete? When creating his new program, it was crucial to choose music that would unleash the magma building up inside him. What kind of music could bring out Yuzuru’s new talents and let him grow with excitement?

 

I first consulted with the choreographer Shae-Lynn Bourne. She is an incredibly inspirational woman who also choreographed the previous season's "Phantom of the Opera." In Yuzuru’s case, it was already clear that he had excellent chemistry with both short-program choreographer Jeffrey Buttle and Shae-Lynn. In fact, working with anyone other than these two would probably be difficult. Yuzuru has his own unique timing for jump approaches and takeoff preparation, and he places great importance on the timing that feels comfortable to him. Even for a quadruple jump launched from steps, Yuzuru has an established ideal for the speed and angle of the step. A choreographer must be able to share and understand this kind of “attention to detail” that only a top athlete possesses.

 

Some choreographers are artistically inclined, prioritizing their own inspiration over the skater’s movements. It’s true that in some cases, this can result in a more artistically refined final work. However, Yuzuru values his own sensibility, so he needs to skate in a way that allows him to breathe naturally and express his emotions through the music. In that sense, Shae-Lynn understands Yuzuru’s movements, and Yuzuru understands the movements Shae-Lynn experiments with, creating the perfect collaboration.

 

During the 2015 off-season, the pieces that Shae-Lynn and I initially picked as candidates for the free program all had tempos that didn’t quite fit the timing of Yuzuru’s quadruple toe loop. The sequence of movements—“entering the approach, turning, bending the knees, planting the toe pick, and taking off”—has its own rhythm and tempo unique to Yuzuru. If the pitch of the music doesn’t match Yuzuru’s heartbeat, the jump becomes difficult. Conversely, if the tempo matches, Yuzuru can naturally perform a quadruple jump while even humming along with the music, making it appear to the audience as if the jump and the music are perfectly integrated. Most skaters don't think this deeply when choosing music, but Yuzuru is meticulous down to the smallest detail.

 

Then Yuzuru came up with the idea for “SEIMEI” and sent it to us. Having him suggest a Japanese piece, one that hadn’t been among our options, was something I found very heartening. From the moment I heard the music, I immediately liked it. Yuzuru and Shae-Lynn choreographed it at the Cricket Club, so I would often glance at them from the sidelines as their program gradually took shape. Every time I caught sight of it, I got chills.

 

“This will surely… become a masterpiece.”

 

It revealed a world that Yuzuru had never shown before. It wasn’t a dramatic, passion-driven dance. It presented a new worldview, conveying both tranquility and grandeur, while also radiating an immeasurable strength. Although the piece was clearly sprinkled with movement ideas unlike anything he had done before, Yuzuru skillfully absorbed them into his own style.

 

And this piece was perfect for Yuzuru this season. Having overcome injuries and illness, he was brimming with motivation to improve not only his jumping technique but also his skating and expression. At a time like this, it was exactly the piece he needed to take on.

 

To put it more bluntly, from a general standpoint it was an extremely difficult piece. There is little in the way of a clear melody, as the rhythm of percussion forms the core. With a dramatic, famous piece, even if there are mistakes, the music can help the performance—but with this, you can expect nothing of the sort. Therefore, one can only wait for the moment when Yuzuru himself becomes the music. In other words, this is what it means: For a great skater, the skating itself becomes the music. Can you understand that? Simply by skating, you can hear the music coming from the skater’s whole body. On the other hand, for a skater with poor technique, the result is disastrous. Both the music and the program feel tedious, and the poor technique stands out.

 

In any case, even if he struggled at first, it was the kind of program that would eventually become a masterpiece, so I felt it suited Yuzuru perfectly.

 

While the free program was being created, it was decided that Yuzuru would continue to skate to Chopin's "Ballade No. 1" from the previous season. That was because he had never once delivered a performance he was fully satisfied with. The previous season was filled with various hardships, so it couldn’t be helped that he hadn’t been able to perform it perfectly. I absolutely wanted to see Yuzuru skate this great program to perfection. Surely everyone in the world felt the same. It was a program capable of scoring 110 points if skated cleanly. He needed to continue skating it for another year and make that miracle happen.

 

The short program choreographer, Jeffrey Buttle, retired after becoming World Champion in 2008, but he still performs in shows, so he can skate “Ballade No. 1” himself and demonstrate it. Yuzuru studies the world that Jeffrey presents right in front of him, treating it clearly as “Jeffrey’s performance,” and then goes on to develop his own style. Rather than memorizing the choreography, Yuzuru absorbs the movements—like raising his right hand or shifting his weight onto his left foot—through intuition and feeling. He and Jeffrey seemed to have excellent chemistry, creating the choreography together as they moved. However, Yuzuru increased the difficulty of the jumps.

 

 

 

3.3 Taking Pride in Each Country’s Culture

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru and Javier are completely different, from their personalities to skating styles. Perhaps that is precisely why the world’s No. 1 and No. 2 skaters are able to train together.

 

During the 2014–2015 season, Yuzuru held three titles: Grand Prix Final, Olympic Games, and World Championships, while Javier held none of the “world’s best” titles. But this season, Javier is the world champion. No matter how much stronger Yuzuru’s ability may be, this becomes a season in which Yuzuru is, without question, the challenger.

 

A gold plaque displayed on the rink wall symbolized this change. The tradition began two years earlier, when Yuzuru won the Olympic Games. The Cricket Club decided to display plaques engraved with the names of World Championship winners and Olympic medalists it had produced since its founding in 1956. Plaques for Yuzuru and Yuna were already in place, and in the spring of 2015, Javier’s plaque was added.

 

To be honest, Javier probably hasn’t even noticed his own plaque. That’s just his personality. But Yuzuru is the type of skater who skillfully turns the presence of a rival into motivation. Every time he glances up at Javier's plate, he becomes fired up. A little jealousy turns into fighting spirit. “Jealousy” may sound negative, but rather than being just friends, it’s better to have some sense of rivalry. That is healthier for an athlete.

 

Thus, Yuzuru, whose fighting spirit had grown stronger, and Javier, in whom a sense of responsibility as a champion had begun to take root, started to shine in their own distinct ways from the spring of 2015. In particular, the sessions in which the two faced off with programs reflecting their respective “national characters” were moments that left you watching with bated breath.

 

Javier’s short program, “Malagueña,” was a Spanish piece that got his blood pumping, and because it was choreographed by an authentic flamenco dancer, he took great pride in it. It was, so to speak, the “real thing.” For Javier, who had always been better with upbeat music with clear rhythms, flamenco movements truly felt like “it’s in the blood.”

 

Yuzuru’s free skate, “SEIMEI,” was the complete opposite of Javier’s. It carried a taut tension and spiritual, beautiful skating. It was as if Yuzuru were breathing within the program itself, as the pulse of the music and his heartbeat became one.

 

Javier lives as a character within the program, while Yuzuru lives as part of the music. Javier dances flamenco as a Spaniard; Yuzuru skates “SEIMEI” as a Japanese. Since the former is a short program and the latter a free skate, you cannot watch these two programs together in competition. But at the Cricket Club, there are moments when the two take turns playing their music. It’s a coach’s privilege. It made me want to say to no one in particular, “Did you see that just now?” I felt indulgently lucky. Both skaters take pride in their own country’s culture……and in that sense as well, the music choices were fascinating.

 

And so, the 2015–2016 season began. After participating in the Japan Open in October, Javier began his season in earnest at the Cup of China in Beijing.

 

That Cup of China was a very significant competition. You all probably remember it. It marked the emergence of 18-year-old Chinese skater Boyang Jin. He had already landed a quadruple Lutz in domestic competitions and was the focus of attention at the tournament. Javier and I went to watch his official practice. When we saw him actually land the quad Lutz, we looked at each other in surprise. Javier couldn’t help but exclaim, “Oh my God!” It wasn’t a pessimistic reaction. Typical of Javier, it was more like, “Did you see that? That was incredible.”

 

Having been involved in skating for many years, seeing an 18-year-old land a precise quad Lutz was astonishing. In the past, only one skater had ever had a quad Lutz recognized, but it was only once, and no one had succeeded since. But it was obvious at a glance that Jin had acquired the quad Lutz as a stable technique.

 

“Figure skating is now on the verge of entering a whole new dimension.”

 

He was on the verge of opening the door to a new era of quadruple jumps. Everyone who watched Jin’s practice seemed spellbound, murmuring, “The Lutz… the Lutz…” The main topics of conversation were, “Will he land it at the Cup of China?” and “How many quads will he land?” But I quickly snapped out of the spell and returned to my senses. Then I rephrased it as follows:

 

"He's an incredible jumping genius."

 

But that’s as far as it goes. The outcome of the competition and the success of the jumps are two different things. Look closely at his skating. Compared to Yuzuru and Javier, his basic skating skills are still at a junior level. Even his jumps, in terms of quality, are still junior-level. There was no need to panic. Javier and I returned to our usual pace and prepared for our own training. I told Javier, “Let’s stick faithfully to the plan we’ve been following.”

 

Was there any need for Javier to suddenly start practicing the quad Lutz now? No, there wasn’t. We already knew what elements were necessary to win over the two and a half years leading up to the PyeongChang Olympics, and the quad Lutz was not among them. That’s because we compete under the International Skating Union’s scoring system. I had studied that scoring system carefully and thoroughly designed our training program to match it.

 

 

 

3.4 Consider countermeasures rather than criticizing the scoring system

 

Spoiler

Let me first explain the current scoring system. The system in use today is the “new scoring system,” introduced in 2004. Unlike the previous “6.0” perfect-score system, it uses a point-addition method. When this system was first introduced, many coaches and officials complained and said it wasn’t a good scoring system. But I thought:

 

“OK. No matter what anyone says, this is the system now. So instead of wasting time complaining, we should study it. What do the judges want? What kind of seminars are the judges attending? In what direction is figure skating moving right now?”

 

Rather than criticizing the scoring system, it's better to consider countermeasures. That benefits the skaters, and in fact, if my team, which has top-level skaters, cooperates with the judges, they will be more open with us. After all, they are struggling with the new scoring system too. To get used to it, they have to watch competitions even when they’re not judging, observe practices, or study videos on their days off, just to sharpen their sense. Since the scoring is now based on things that didn’t exist before—like under-rotation on jumps, the accuracy of Lutz versus Flip, and the five components of program components—judges have to experiment to figure out what to focus on in order to score accurately.

 

So I tried to help the judges. For example, one of the five program components is “Transitions.” At first, it was difficult for both judges and skaters to determine what exactly counted as a “transition.” In such cases, we would create programs carefully designed according to the rules, and the skater would demonstrate clear, exemplary transitions during the performance. The judges would watch my skater and think, “Ah, so this is what a transition is. I understand now!”—and give high marks. Later, these performances would even be referenced in seminars and meetings as a model example of transitions.

 

There is also a component called “Choreography.” According to the description, it refers to “how the program is planned, the program patterns.” By itself, this doesn’t give judges, skaters, or coaches a clear, shared understanding of what counts as good choreography. I started by carefully reading the rulebook for the new scoring system, then spoke with the ISU technical committee members who drafted the rules to understand the true intent of this component. I understood that the “direction” in which the skater moves is an important element.

 

Most skaters take their approach to jumps and spins in a counterclockwise direction, and since rinks are also set up for counterclockwise skating, they naturally perform much of their program in that direction. It is easier to execute steps and takeoffs on a counterclockwise curve, and jumps are more likely to succeed. Without an understanding of the new scoring system, some skaters perform in this one-directional circular pattern, occasionally stopping to shake their hips or add a small flourish, and then continue skating counterclockwise. They mistakenly consider this “choreography.” It drives me crazy when I see that. That's not even "choreography"; it's not proper figure skating movement.

 

True “choreography” is the combination of complex paths going left, right, forward, and backward. This includes the directions of turns, skating, and steps, as well as vertical movement such as bends and jumps to fully use the three-dimensional space. Identifying and combining these complex patterns in all directions and levels is what defines choreography. When my skaters perform programs that combine such complex patterns, judges recognize, “Ah, this is choreography,” and give high scores.

 

For the current scoring system to truly take root as an effective system, judges need to develop a discerning eye. Rather than protesting the system, it is more beneficial for everyone to contribute by producing exemplary performances that serve as models for what the system is meant to reward.

 

Since becoming a coach in 2006, I have maintained this approach for over ten years. That’s why I don’t panic just from seeing a quadruple Lutz. To win under this scoring system, it is not enough to focus only on jumps; one must consider the basics of skating, choreography, steps and turns, and spins. We have repeated training every day on elements that no other team is doing. Other teams’ skaters might watch Jin and feel pressured, starting to practice high-scoring quads like the Lutz or flip. But for us, that’s unnecessary. In fact, I think it’s more important for other skaters and coaches to truly understand this scoring system.

 

 

 

3.5 Is victory about quad Lutz or quality?

 

Spoiler

As expected, Jin landed a quadruple Lutz at the Cup of China. He included two quads in the short program and four in the free skate, stealing the spotlight. So, who actually won the Cup of China? It’s simple arithmetic. A quadruple toe loop that receives a +3 Grade of Execution (GOE) from all judges scores 10.3 + 3 = 13.3 points. A quadruple Lutz without any GOE scores 13.6 points. The total points are nearly the same. "A quadruple Lutz!" sounds like an invincible move, but a “high-quality quadruple toe loop” is just as strong as a weapon.

 

Moreover, a quadruple Lutz appears only once, or at most twice, in a program. There are three jumps in the short program and eight in the free skate, in addition to spins and step sequences. If all elements earn positive GOE, a skater can score over 10 points in the short program and over 20 points in the free skate. So the score for a quad Lutz is not a major concern. I have thoroughly studied this scoring system, developed strategies, and structured our training accordingly. I have repeatedly explained this to my students. Therefore, Javier understood everything and didn’t feel, upon seeing the quad Lutz, that “there’s no way to compete with a quad toe loop.” To be clear, the quad Lutz is an amazing jump. I fully understand its impact, but I've decided that it's not necessary for my team's skaters.

 

What I can say about Javier is that his quad toe loop and quad salchow are huge. Anyone who sees them is impressed. They are strong, masculine jumps worthy of the full +3 GOE. That’s why, at the start of official practice, I said to him:

 

“Javier, you know what you need to do, right?”

 

On the day of the competition, Javier landed one quad in the short program and three in the free skate, while Jin landed two in the short and four in the free. In terms of the number of quads, Jin had two more. Yet the scores were Javier 270.55 and Jin 261.23. I think the scoring was correct. That evening at the press conference, Chinese media asked Javier:

 

“Why didn’t you do six quadruples?”

 

Javier replied:

 

“I have high-quality quads, one in the short program and three in the free skate. I fully understand my strategy.”

 

What a smart answer. Since becoming world champion, his responses at press conferences have grown more mature.

 

In this competition, Team Brian achieved a “strategic victory.” At the same time, I realized that both the media and fans didn’t fully understand the scoring system. It’s true that landing six quads across the short and free programs would set a world record. Witnessing such a moment for the Guinness Book of Records is thrilling, and I want fans to enjoy it purely for that reason. However, it’s important to understand that simply landing six quads doesn’t guarantee a win. If people question or criticize the scoring just because Jin didn’t win, it can take the fun out of watching figure skating. I want everyone to understand why Javier could win without attempting six quads.

 

Jin and his coach weren't upset about coming in second place. They also understood the new scoring system and were smart. At the press conference, they said, “We need to focus more on basic skating skills and steps from now on.” Compared to his junior years, Jin’s skating quality has improved, and he will likely develop into an excellent skater toward the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

 

 

3.6 Incorporating two quads in the short program

 

Spoiler

While Javier aimed for a solid performance from his first competition, Yuzuru began the season with a slightly different approach. While Javier made no major changes to his jump content compared to last season, Yuzuru incorporated a "quad in the second half of his program" in both his short and free programs, challenging himself to successfully complete it for the first time.

 

For his first competition, he chose the Autumn Classic held in the suburbs of Toronto to minimize travel. Yuzuru was unable to land the quads in the second half of both programs, and many Japanese media who attended tried to analyze whether the mistakes were due to mental or technical reasons. However, making mistakes in the first competition was not a problem at all. After all, the purpose of competing in a local event in October 2015, when the leaves in Canada hadn’t even turned red yet, was not to skate a flawless program.

 

I often use this proverb:

 

“The first pancake is always spoiled.”

 

I treated the Autumn Classic as that “first pancake.” The first pancake often fails because the heat is too strong, too much flour is used, or the cooking time is wrong. You cook it not to succeed, but to check what needs adjustment. In fact, I have never cooked a perfect first pancake. Skating is the same. What you can do in practice sometimes just doesn't work out in competition. By deliberately entering a smaller event before the Grand Prix series, we can figure out what needs to be adjusted or changed. Yuzuru’s “first pancake” didn’t go perfectly, but it brought a huge amount of valuable experience.

 

At that time, we were testing several patterns for jump take-offs, including the angles and trajectories before getting into the jump setup. Yuzuru wasn’t satisfied with the pattern he used at the Autumn Classic, so he tried a new one at Skate Canada. But his performance didn’t improve, so by the NHK Trophy, he adjusted it again. On paper, it was still the same “quad toe loop,” but in competition, this kind of trial and error is essential. Therefore, mistakes in the first competition are not to be seen as negative—they are necessary. In fact, if a program could be performed perfectly in October, it would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

 

However, the Japanese media and fans were disappointed, and seeing their reaction, Yuzuru himself regretted not being able to give them more to cheer for. After the Autumn Classic, he became even more fixated on landing quads in the second half of his program than I had expected, immersing himself fully in practicing them.

 

At times like these, I like to step back and just observe Yuzuru. He seems almost possessed, refusing to listen to anyone else’s opinions. He’s completely focused on mastering what he’s aiming for. At this stage, offering advice would only make him more stubborn. His stubbornness is also one of his strengths, so I simply observed to ensure he didn’t do any risky practice that could cause injury.

 

Patrick Chan, returning from a year-long break, was entered for the next competition, Skate Canada in October. Yuzuru seemed quite conscious of him. Patrick was highly motivated and full of adrenaline as it was his comeback competition. He had won three consecutive World Championships up until the year before the Sochi Olympics and was naturally a skater capable of earning high Program Component Scores (PCS).

 

Regardless of Patrick, Yuzuru’s short program performance was terrible. His quad in the second half became a double, and he also missed the triple Lutz combination, starting in 6th place. When the performance is this bad, it's best not to immediately analyze the cause, but to simply forget about the short program. I only said to Yuzuru, “Today wasn’t your day.”

 

One thing I realized, though, was that even the triple Lutz–triple toe loop, a jump that’s usually not difficult for Yuzuru, was off. I wondered if the way the jumps were spread throughout the program was making him feel uncomfortable. Feeling anxious about the triple Lutz is unnecessary worry. So by the end of the short program, I had already made up my mind: let's drop the Lutz and include two quads. Yuzuru shared the same ambition, even without me suggesting it.

 

When Yuzuru returned to Toronto after Skate Canada, he began practicing “two quads in the short program.” Since I had to go to the Cup of China with Javier, choreographer Jeffrey Buttle helped adjust the program to accommodate the change in jump structure.

 

According to ISU rules, including two quads in the short program requires that one of the quads comes following a step sequence. So Yuzuru began practicing a new approach combining a 4S (Salchow) with an eagle footwork entry. The sequence would be “Eagle, quad Salchow, Eagle,” and Jeffrey helped incorporate this flow smoothly into the program. By the time I returned from China, Yuzuru was already landing the quad Salchow from the Eagle beautifully. It was an ambitious move, but his execution was so solid that it felt ready for competition.

 

Around this time, Yuzuru started experiencing pain in his left foot, caused by excessive practice of the quadruple toe loop. The repeated motion of planting his toe pick caused a ligament injury deep in his instep. As a result, he needed to limit toe loop practice, which made it a good opportunity to focus intensively on the Salchow.

 

Before the NHK Trophy, Yuzuru was scheduled to return to Japan early to train on his own, so we held a meeting before his departure to discuss the jump layout for the competition. Yuzuru insisted on “two quads in the short program.” It was a big challenge that most male skaters had not attempted, but considering how well the quad Salchow was landing in practice, the risks of performing a quad toe loop with his left foot injury, and the difficulty of executing a triple Lutz–triple toe loop in the short program, there was only one solution:

 

“Let’s skip the triple Lutz and do two quads.”

 

The time has come to welcome Yuzuru's ambitious idea.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

3.7 Managing Yuzuru's conditioning

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru returned to Japan and did some adjustments. From that point on, the priority became preparing his condition for competition day. Up until Skate Canada, Yuzuru was so focused on landing a quad in the second half that he didn't pay much attention to conditioning. However, as his quad salchow became more consistent, his training focused on getting in shape for competition. He repeatedly did demanding run-throughs.

 

Although we had only gone a few days without seeing each other, when we met again in Nagano, Yuzuru’s condition had improved dramatically. He was able to skate perfect run-throughs of both the short program and the free skate. It was astonishing that he could raise his condition so much in just a few days. The reason he was able to do so all at once was not my coaching ability, but the strength of Yuzuru’s motivation. What I learned as a coach was that when Yuzuru gets truly serious, he reaches peak condition more quickly than the average skater. It was a very important insight.

 

Let’s talk a little about conditioning, that is, how athletes create a peak for competition. All athletes follow a similar process: through repeated hard training, they gradually build their form and create a state in which their physical abilities are heightened for competition. By scheduling rest days before and after periods of intense training and eliminating fatigue, they can create an even more precisely timed peak. What matters most is that each athlete discovers the pattern that best suits their own body. Yuzuru matched his peak perfectly for the NHK Trophy, which means he was able to take the optimal number of rest days and complete the right amount of intensive training. These became “important numbers” for the World Championships and the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics.

 

In fact, Yuzuru had already come to keenly understand the importance of conditioning at his first Olympics. At the Sochi Olympics, his absolute peak came during the team event short program on February 6. To bring his peak back again for the individual event on February 13, what was needed was for him to rest his body once, let his form drop, and then build it back up through hard training. However, under various circumstances, Yuzuru entered intense adjustment training without enough rest and with fatigue still lingering. He managed to get through the short program on stamina alone, but he failed to peak for the free skate. In the end, it was a gold medal, but I think everyone knows that Yuzuru’s free skate was not his very best performance.

 

Yuzuru is still in the process of learning that “magic number.” Looking ahead to the PyeongChang Olympics, we want to define it clearly: how many days before a competition he should rest, how many days of hard training are needed to build a peak, and how many days that peak condition can be maintained. Because there are both team and individual events, these calculations become even more complex. Yuzuru himself must learn this while listening to the voice of his own body, and I must accumulate this as objective data and formulate a strategy for the actual Olympics.

 

What we had already learned about Yuzuru’s condition was that, in everyday training, a cycle of “one day off, three days of training” suited him best. As the body reaches around twenty years of age, fatigue can lead to injury, so rather than training six days in a row, it is more effective to include rest days in between. When he was 17 and had just arrived in Toronto, he trained just as hard every single day. Now he has found the right balance between rest and training. Peaking for competition, however, was still largely uncharted territory. That is why seeing Yuzuru appear at this NHK Trophy in peak condition gave me a strong sense of confidence.

 

By the way, both Kim Yuna and Javier have different cycles. For Yuna, a pattern of training hard from Monday to Friday, skating lightly on Saturday, and resting on Sunday suited her. In Javier’s case, he trains for five days in a row and rests on Saturday and Sunday. Javier does better when he trains continuously in a row. However, every Tuesday evening, Javier always asks, “Yuzuru has a day off tomorrow, so can I take Wednesday off too?” Naturally, my answer is “No.”

 

In any case, I could sense that Yuzuru had successfully built his condition for the competition, and I felt excited even before the NHK Trophy, knowing that it was going to be extraordinary.

 

 

 

3.8 Creating a Historic Moment Through One's Own Strength

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru landed a quadruple Salchow and a quadruple toe loop in the short program, “Ballade No.1.” Given his excellent condition, this wasn’t entirely surprising, so instead of shock, I felt a proud, “Well done!” His score was 106.33 points. An incredible result. This program, performed perfectly, could surpass 110 points, so he had taken another step closer to the limits of what’s possible.

 

The real test, though, was the free skate, “SEIMEI.” Yuzuru is no longer the kind of young man to let his success in the short program lull him into a daze. He executed the first two quadruple jumps cleanly, showing his peak physical ability, and I immediately sensed that this would be an entirely otherworldly performance. Every element was performed with high quality, and his quads in particular were fast, big, smooth, and powerful.

 

Then came the third quadruple, the “quad toe loop + triple toe loop.” Even knowing that two triple Axels were still to come, I felt as if I had been transported to another planet. I will never forget it. Goosebumps ran down the back of my neck, sending shivers through me. I forgot that I was the coach and felt like jumping onto the ice to skate together with Yuzuru. As the program approached its finale, the emotions Yuzuru had poured into it gradually intensified, and the arena was filled with an incredible energy. I was completely overwhelmed. I had never seen such a wonderful performance in my life. Yuzuru was in a trance, skating freely and naturally, as if something had taken over his body. When he returned, I think the first thing I told him was, “I’m so proud of you.” I was so excited that my memory is a little hazy. I might have just said, “Wow! I can’t believe it! Amazing!” Even sitting in the Kiss & Cry, I was too moved to think about the score, and this is what I told Yuzuru:

 

"Don't forget this feeling. Cherish how you felt when you first stepped onto the ice today, the emotions you experienced while skating, and hold this excitement in your heart. It will become a treasure for life."

 

Even as I said these words, my chest was tight, and I felt like I was about to burst into tears. While I was still overwhelmed by the emotion of his performance, the score of 322.40 appeared on the screen. All I could do was laugh.

 

For men, “breaking 300 points” had been a significant barrier. The previous world record was 295.27 points, so if someone were to surpass this barrier, the score would normally be expected to be around 301 or 305, a score that could be described as “just barely making it.” However, Yuzuru's score was over 320 points, surpassing the barrier by nearly 30 points. In English, one could say, “He smashed it.” No one could have expected such an incredible score. At the same time, I’m sure many people thought we’d never see a score like that again. Well… except for me.

 

That night, I immediately emailed choreographers Jeff and Shae-Lynn, telling them to watch the video online if possible. I expressed my gratitude and told them how wonderful the night had been. It was an unbelievable night.

 

I feel sorry for the skater who came in second. It’s hard to remember who that was at the NHK Trophy, isn’t it? It was Boyang Jin, with 266.43 points. He landed a quadruple Lutz, so 266 points isn’t a bad score at all. But with a gap of nearly 60 points, all anyone remembers is Yuzuru’s overwhelming victory. I’m sure everyone at the arena felt honored to witness that moment. For me, too, being there to see that historic performance was truly an amazing experience.

 

Immediately after the NHK Trophy, and even after returning to Toronto, everyone was amazed by that score, praising it as a “miraculous score.” However, I knew on the night of the free skate that this score wasn’t a miracle, but the result of our long-term planning. It wasn’t luck. Yuzuru had the ability to achieve that score. By aligning his condition perfectly, he created that historic moment through his own strength. It was a score that was destined to happen.

 

In my time, a historic moment was the ice dance performance at the 1984 Sarajevo Olympics. The British pair Jane Torvill & Christopher Dean performed "Boléro" in the free dance, and all judges awarded 6.0 in artistic scores. Under the scoring system of that time, it was the maximum score possible. That truly was a legendary performance. Spectators and judges alike have never forgotten it, and it is still spoken of to this day. I also competed in the Olympics, so I remember that performance, the atmosphere in the venue, and everything else.

 

Yuzuru's free skate performance was comparable to that night of "Bolero." There were several judges who gave him scores of 10 on the PCS (Program Component Score). Yuzuru's performance will be remembered forever not for the victory or the world record, but for the fact that there were judges who gave him a perfect score of 10. That was the important point.

 

After Yuzuru’s performance ended, I was approached by judges in the hallway. Among them was a woman who was working at an international competition for the first time that day. In domestic competitions she had judged before, the highest PCS she had given was about 7 points. But for Yuzuru’s performance, she had no choice but to give “10, 10, 10.” She had never pressed the button for anything higher than 7, so it took courage to give 10, but that was the decision she made. Any judge would like to press the 10 button at least once in their life. There is no greater honor than having judged a historic performance. But the experience of pressing the 10 button is not something you can simply wish for. If you are lucky enough to do it, it becomes an experience you’ll never forget.

 

After Yuzuru skated, every judge leaving the panel had expressions full of satisfaction and emotion, savoring the fortune of having been able to press the 10 button. But all the judges would experience the same miraculous moment again in Barcelona.

 

 

 

3.9 Yuzuru battles against himself

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru, Javier, and I reached the Grand Prix Final in Barcelona for the second time, following last year. For Javier, it was a competition in his home country, and for Yuzuru, it was the competition right after he set a world record. All eyes were on the two of them. As a coach, I approached the event fully aware that it could mark an important turning point in their careers.

 

After the NHK Trophy, Yuzuru maintained his strong form. Riding that big wave of momentum, he was mentally positive about everything, and his energy seemed to radiate from him completely. Physically, it had only been about ten days since the NHK Trophy, so he was still within the peak period of his condition. I could feel his excitement when he said, “I’m going to get another great score in Barcelona.”

 

His short program was a completely solid performance. There was nothing to worry about. He finally surpassed 110 points, scoring 110.95. This was a higher score than his perfect performance at the NHK Trophy. It was good motivation for Yuzuru heading into the free skate. If he performs the free skate flawlessly, he has the potential to achieve a higher score than he did at the NHK Trophy.

 

If this had been any skater other than Yuzuru, I, as a coach, would have needed to provide mental support. Competing in the free skate while holding an overwhelming lead after the short program is extremely challenging. It’s easy to unintentionally relax—what in boxing is called “letting your guard down,” meaning to become careless. There’s also the pressure of being chased by other competitors. The larger the lead, the greater the chance of making a major mistake and being overtaken.

 

However, Yuzuru had previously gone through a bitter experience. It was at Skate America in 2012, his first Grand Prix Series event after arriving in Toronto. Yuzuru was first after the short program by a wide margin. But he became so excited by the high score that he couldn’t fully concentrate on the free skate, and was overtaken by Takahiko Kozuka, finishing second. After that, we discussed and agreed: “Whether the short program result is good or bad, you should completely push it out of your mind during the free skate.” When the short program goes well, it’s difficult to maintain a fighting spirit; you either become too cautious or let your guard down. In that case, it’s better to forget the short program. And when the short program goes poorly, it can make you negative, so again, it’s best to completely forget it. In any case, the key is to focus solely on the free skate.

 

In the four years since that competition, Yuzuru had firmly etched that experience into his body, so no unnecessary advice was needed. He understood that this was the kind of competition where the motivation of simply “wanting to win” was hard to trigger, and he set his goal not on winning, but on breaking his own world record. His mental control was perfect.

 

During the free skate, Yuzuru was battling against himself. He maintained complete focus and controlled every situation on his own. Once again, he delivered a perfect performance. On top of that, his score surpassed the NHK Trophy, reaching 219.48 points. Rather than being moved, many people were left speechless because it was simply unbelievable. While many officials had praised his NHK Trophy score, deep down they probably thought, “That score will never happen again.” And yet, in just two weeks, he surpassed it, leaving everyone unsure how to even react.

 

 

 

3.10 The rink turns into a flamenco-dancing tavern

 

Spoiler

It was an emotional Barcelona for Javier as well. Since it was his second time competing in his home country, following last year, he faced the event with a more relaxed feeling than last season. In the short program, Javier skated right after Yuzuru had just exceeded 110 points. The audience’s loud applause made it clear how moved they were by Yuzuru’s performance. As I stepped away from the Kiss & Cry, I immediately shifted my focus to supporting Javier.

 

And then it happened. As soon as Javier’s name was announced, the local Spanish audience all stomped their feet in unison like drums. The atmosphere changed instantly. The rink seemed to transform into a flamenco-dancing tavern. His short program was the flamenco piece "Malagueña." A Spanish program, performed by a Spaniard, on Spanish soil. This was probably the first time in history.

 

Then Yuzuru, who was sitting in the Kiss & Cry, shouted to Javier, “Vamos, Javi! (Go for it, Javi!)” As I watched Javier skate away, I looked back at Yuzuru cheering and felt truly proud as a coach. I could see how these two young men respected, encouraged, and pushed each other to do their best. Yuzuru genuinely wanted Javier to skate well in a competition held in his own country.

 

In reality, Javier made some mistakes in the short program and did not achieve his highest score. Still, his artistic flamenco performance was wonderful, and he placed second behind Yuzuru. The scores were 110.95 for Yuzuru and 91.52 for Javier—a gap of about 20 points. For Yuzuru, the short program raised the issue of mental control going into the free skate, but from Javier’s perspective, his chances of winning on home soil had become very slim.

 

However, Javier’s motivation did not drop at all. Without fixating on winning or losing, he simply wanted to deliver a strong performance on the rink of his hometown, and he never lost that desire. In the free skate, he skated with utmost concentration and completed a program that included three quadruple jumps, achieving an amazing score of over 200 points. Following Yuzuru at the NHK Trophy, he became only the second skater in history to surpass 200 points in the free skate.

 

 

In Barcelona, I felt like the most honored coach in the world. Javier surpassed 200 points in the free skate, and Yuzuru exceeded 330 points overall. I was immensely proud of Javier for delivering his best performance at a home event, and deeply moved by Yuzuru, who once again produced a high score amid expectations of a world record. Walking through the seaside venue in Barcelona, my heart was pounding with pride and joy. For the local Spanish audience as well, being able to witness Yuzuru’s historic performance and, at the same time, see the artistic skating of their own skater Javier must have made this an unforgettable competition.

 

 

Then fans of both Yuzuru and Javier came up to me, eagerly telling me how wonderful each of their performances had been and how deeply moved they were. Everyone was so touched that even I, their coach, found myself surrounded by fans. It was clear to me just how loved both Yuzuru and Javier are by their supporters. Because the two of them are together, such wonderful moments come to life.

 

 

 

3.11 To Compete Against Yuzuru

 

Spoiler

After a wonderful Grand Prix Final, both skaters moved on to the season of their respective national championships. At that point, I found myself more worried about Javier than about Yuzuru. I wondered how Javier felt about Yuzuru’s scores, and whether he might be losing confidence in his ability to compete on equal footing. Their rivalry only has meaning if it is built on mutual respect.

 

Javier went into the Grand Prix Final after winning the Cup of China and the Rostelecom Cup. Normally, a skater would aim to win the Final. But after seeing the score Yuzuru had achieved at NHK Trophy, he must have felt a sense of frustration. At the very least, before the Grand Prix Final, Javier was probably thinking, “How do you even get 322 points? No one has even broken 300.” If a skater starts treating the competition as someone else’s problem, that’s the end of the road for them. Even if, in reality, Javier is also capable of breaking 300 points. Moreover, unlike Yuzuru, who can raise his own motivation on his own, Javier needed encouragement from us to build his confidence and fighting spirit. That’s why, when we returned to Toronto after NHK Trophy, I said to him:

 

“Yuzuru landed two quads in his short program at the NHK Trophy. Why don’t you think about it too? If you want to compete with Yuzuru, you’re going to need two quads.”

 

I had no intention of ordering him if he wasn’t interested at all. I just wanted to check whether he truly wanted to try. As it turned out, Javier was already thinking along the same lines.

 

“I’ve already been thinking about that. I want to jump two quads as well.”

 

That made me happy.

 

“That’s good. You can jump two quads in the short. Javier, it's easy for you. And now's the time.”

 

When an athlete tries something for the first time, it’s best to let them suggest it themselves. They take responsibility for their own words. If I were to simply instruct, “You’ll jump two quads at the Spanish Championships,” the skater wouldn’t feel motivated, and it probably wouldn’t succeed. Some skaters, like Yuzuru, are even more proactive than I am, and they come forward with ideas like, “I want to try this and that.” But with Javier, it’s important to guide him skillfully and make him “say it.” Sometimes that requires patience. This time, however, he answered immediately. Javier is, after all, highly competitive. When it came to the quadruple Salchow and toe loop, he actually had the ability to land two quads first, so having Yuzuru beat him to it must have left him unable to sit still.

 

We set the Spanish Championships, which began on December 19, as the goal for this first challenge. This schedule was Javier’s idea. It was a competition just ten days after the Grand Prix Final, which might seem like a short preparation period, but having the event so soon was perfect for channeling Javier’s surge of motivation. In fact, at the Spanish Championships, Javier landed two quadruple jumps in the short program and executed them perfectly. With a score of 104.68 points, even though it was a domestic competition, he broke 100 points and got his revenge for the Grand Prix Final.

 

This is an “in hindsight” afterword, but getting Javier to continue practicing “two quads” was extremely difficult. Up until the Spanish Championships, he rode the momentum, but continuing practice toward the World Championships in March led to many heated arguments. When Javier fell on the opening “quad toe loop + triple toe loop,” he would stop the program, intending to restart from the beginning with the music. We coaches would shout loudly, telling him to jump the following quad Salchow. Every day, we had to practice like that. We argued over it many times.

 

“Today we’re doing a short program run-through just like a real competition. Even if you fall, get up immediately and keep skating to the end.”

 

This is standard run-through practice for my team, but it’s hard to get athletes to understand its importance. Yuzuru already understood the purpose of this practice and worked on it properly. During short program run-throughs, Yuzuru sometimes even falls on all three jumps, but even then he doesn’t get discouraged or lose focus. He continues skating until the very last note. Only by completing the entire run-through as if it were an actual competition does the practice achieve its intended effect. The key is to include every jump and internalize the timing, pacing, and flow of the program as a whole.

 

Yuzuru is quick to understand and approaches run-throughs seriously, just as I expect, so I’ve never had to get truly angry with him. Javier, on the other hand, doesn’t take it as seriously. He tends to cut corners, with an attitude of, “I’ll do it in the actual competition.” Confident in his physical abilities and having already landed three quadruples in the free skate, he underestimated the short program, thinking he could handle two quads without serious practice. Because of this, I found myself getting really angry with him many times. There were even times when I shouted, “That’s enough for today!” and left the rink.

 

After going through those days, Javier finally came to understand the importance of run-throughs and began practicing properly. This method of training then carried through and became crucial for the World Championships in March.

 

 

 

3.12 Mistakes motivate him to train harder

 

Spoiler

The 2015 All-Japan Championships began on December 24. In the host city of Sapporo, a lot of snow had piled up. It was a heavy snow, just like in Canada.

 

I arrived in Sapporo two days before the men’s short program to check on Yuzuru’s condition. Since his peak form had started at the NHK Trophy at the end of November, it was about time for it to start dropping. Sure enough, his condition had dipped slightly. But since this was according to plan, I didn’t panic, nor did I try to force him to raise his form for the All-Japan Championships. We simply approached the competition as it was.

 

Yuzuru made a few mistakes and scored 286.36 points. Winning is winning, but the fans and media had the mood of, ‘He was so amazing just two weeks ago, so why did he make mistakes?’ and I was repeatedly asked the same kind of questions. Honestly, though, I thought it was actually good that he made mistakes, so I simply answered, ‘This is fine.’ If he had scored over 300 points at the All-Japan Championships, Japanese fans might have been happy. But could he really maintain his peak for five months, from the NHK Trophy in November to the World Championships in March? Or could any athlete perfectly time their peak for every single competition in the season? I personally doubt that anyone could.

 

In fact, American skaters face similar circumstances. If they don’t give their all at the U.S. Championships in January, they won’t be selected for the World Championships. There are many excellent skaters, both men and women, competing fiercely for a spot on the World Championships team. That means American skaters have no choice but to time their peak for the U.S. Championships in January, and then they also need to peak again for the Olympics in February and the World Championships in March. From the perspective of peaking, this is a very challenging schedule. In fact, because they give all their strength at the U.S. Championships, many times they cannot perform as well at the World Championships or Olympics as they did at the U.S. Championships. It’s a common story that for many American skaters, their best performance ever came at the U.S. Championships, but since it was only a domestic reference, it wasn’t recorded in the International Skating Union’s official results.

 

The same is true for Japanese skaters. When there are multiple candidates for the World Championships, as with the current Japanese women, they have no choice but to bring their peak to the All-Japan Championships. After that, peaking again for February or March must be carefully planned, or it will be too late. In Yuzuru’s case, however, his position as Japan’s top skater is already secure, so even if he makes a few mistakes at the All-Japan Championships, his status doesn’t change. In other words, the experience of "winning the All-Japan Championships even with mistakes" became a valuable lesson for future seasons, showing him that he could focus on peaking in February and March.

 

This is a peaking issue of "when to go for the win." Dropping form and making mistakes at the All-Japan Championships can actually be a good thing. If he makes mistakes, Yuzuru gains motivation to train harder. If he doesn’t, he’ll have to compete even harder against mysterious high scores. That's human nature.

 

Creating two or three peaks in a single season is truly difficult. Just practicing a lot aimlessly will not do; there is a method. You raise your condition once, let it drop, and then raise it again. The timing of this cycle varies for each athlete, so it must be learned through many years of experience.

 

Looking at the big picture, Yuzuru reached his first peak from the NHK Trophy through the Grand Prix Final, so he needed to let his form drop by the end of December. Considering that his true peak was planned for the World Championships just three months later, his season plan seemed to be going very well.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

3.13 Javier also surpasses 300 points

 

Spoiler

As 2016 began, Yuzuru had several ice shows in Japan, while Javier, with the European Championships starting on January 25, returned to Toronto right away to resume training.

 

In the short program at the Spanish Championships, Javier successfully landed two quadruple jumps and, even though it was only a domestic reference score, he surpassed 100 points. At that point, he was aiming to continue improving his form as he headed toward the European Championships. To aim for a total score of over 300 points, he would now need to improve his free skate score as well.

 

Javier’s program originally included three quadruple jumps, but only one triple Axel. Given his physical capacity, it was time to add a second triple Axel. When thinking about which triple jump to replace with a triple Axel, the only option was the triple toe loop in the second half of the program. However, this jump occurred at the program’s climax, immediately following a choreographic sequence, and was sandwiched between fairly complex steps. It was only possible because the toe loop is the easiest of the triple jumps, but upgrading it meant replacing it with the most difficult jump, the triple Axel.

 

“Can you put a triple Axel in that spot, keeping the surrounding choreography and steps exactly the same?”

 

Because it involved considerable risk, I thought that if Javier didn’t feel confident, it would be better not to force it. But once again, Javier answered immediately.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

Having said that himself, he practiced with full responsibility. By the time the European Championships arrived, the success rate of the second triple Axel was about 30–40%, but it was worth challenging. If he succeeded, a triple Axel with such a difficult setup would earn extra points, and even if he fell, it would serve as valuable practice for the World Championships.

 

We took the risk. At the European Championships, he once again scored over 100 points in the short program. In the free skate, the quadruple jumps were landed well, but he fell on the newly added second triple Axel. That was the result of taking a risk, so it was understandable. Despite the mistake, his total score was 302.77 points, surpassing 300 points for the first time. Second-place Alexei Bychenko (Israel) scored 242.56 points, so Javier won by a margin of nearly 60 points. For Javier it was his fourth consecutive title, and each year he widened the gap with second place, establishing an untouchable position in Europe. Nowadays, strong skaters are concentrated in Japan, North America, and Asia, so it feels like a European champion has to stand out this much…

 

In fact, at this European Championships, I had set up a little trick to motivate Javier. It was the opportunity for him to perform in an ice show after the competition ended.

 

The offer Javier received was to appear in the Swiss ice show “Art on Ice,” which would begin immediately after the European Championships and last for three weeks. It's an incredible show that every skater wants to perform in, and the performance fee was high. However, for an active competitor with the World Championships coming up in March, performing in an ice show until the end of February wasn’t ideal timing. I agreed to let Javier do it on one condition: that he could compete at the European Championships in perfect condition. I valued his condition more than the final score.

 

If his condition was good at the European Championships at the end of January, then February would be a period where it was acceptable for his form to dip temporarily. It was fine if his competition-level training decreased for the ice show and his condition dropped. As long as he peaked in January, he could build it back up again two months later.

 

However, if his condition was poor at the European Championships at the end of January, he would need intense training afterward to improve it, or his form would decline irreparably in February. From there, it would be impossible to peak again by March.

 

That is why, with the World Championships in mind, I set “perfect condition at the European Championships” as the condition. As a result, Javier trained seriously from the beginning of January and entered the European Championships at the end of the month in peak condition. Then, in February, he confidently set off to perform in the Swiss show.

 

In fact, I actually wanted him to perform in the show. Ice shows are a positive factor for Javier. He loves performing in them, so he practices show numbers as diligently as competition programs, sometimes even more intensely. As a result, it helps him practice his performance and skating skills, and the cheers from fans provide extra motivation. I felt that appearing in a show before the World Championships was a strategy that could work in his favor.

 

Moreover, "Art on Ice" is, true to its name, an artistic show, completely different in concept from exhibitions where skaters simply take turns performing. Both the performances and the choreography are unique, built around a central theme. As the European champion, Javier was given a special role, one that focused more on artistry than jumps, making the show meaningful for him in that regard as well.

 

Of course, since I was sending one of our precious skaters to perform during such an important period, I made sure to confirm various conditions with the show’s agent. We secured assurances that autograph sessions wouldn’t take up too much of Javier’s time so he could rest, that travel schedules would be reasonable, that safe accommodations would be provided, and that the agent would take responsibility in the event of any unforeseen incidents.

 

In Javier’s case, the Spanish skating federation doesn’t provide him with any income, so he has to cover the substantial costs of training and travel himself in order to continue competing. It is not a sport that receives substantial public funding like in Japan. Given these circumstances, the three-week show was a matter of financial survival for Javier. That’s precisely why he trained so hard for the European Championships and kept the promise he made to me.

 

Still, this was essentially like taking time off in the middle of the season, so if Javier had completely lost his competitive focus, my plan would have failed. However, he had grown into a skater with a strong sense of professionalism. He appeared in the show as “Serious Javier,” not “Party Javier.” During downtime, he continued practicing for competitions, maintaining both his physical and mental condition. When “Serious Javier” returned to Toronto at the end of February, I could clearly tell what kind of month he had spent, and it made me very happy.

 

 

 

3.14 A rink scattered with jewels

 

Spoiler

After finishing his shows in Japan and returning in February, Yuzuru brought a great energy to Team Brian. It was the first time he and Javier had practiced together since before the NHK Trophy. The two of them always push and encourage each other, gradually improving their form. Progress doesn’t go up in a straight line; it fluctuates day by day, slowly moving upward. So some days Yuzuru feels good while Javier doesn’t, and other days it’s the opposite—their forms rise alternately. Every time they successfully land a quadruple jump in practice, they applaud each other, and the combination of respect and rivalry created a good tension on the ice. Other skaters, inspired by them, also raised their focus.

 

Here’s something that happened about three weeks before the World Championships in Boston. Our team had a record ten skaters qualified for Worlds, and all ten were practicing at the same time. Everyone skated beautifully, and a wonderful energy naturally filled the ice. They were giving energy to each other and pushing each other to improve. Normally, it’s the coach’s job to motivate the skaters, maintaining harmony and keeping the team running smoothly. But at that moment, what was happening on the ice was an amazing sight: every skater was voluntarily pushing each other to improve.

 

So Tracy and I stepped back to the edge of the ice without giving any instructions, just to see what would happen. Cha Jun-hwan and Elizabet Tursynbaeva, both building up their form for the World Junior Championships, were showing incredible footwork. Gabrielle Daleman, who had placed second at the Canadian Championships, was full of confidence in her jumps. Of course, Yuzuru and Javier were fully focused, striving for higher-quality performances. Everyone seemed to radiate an amazing aura, and it felt as if the ice were scattered with jewels. Seeing this beautiful scene, I couldn’t help but ring the bell and call everyone over.

 

“You guys are incredible. This session is amazing. It's an honor for me as a coach to be on the rink with you all like this.”

 

All the skaters could feel the positive energy and the synergy it created, truly appreciating what an incredible team they were part of. The important thing was that everyone was putting out good energy. Even a single unmotivated skater can bring everyone else down, but on that day, everyone at the Cricket Club rink was full of drive, creating the perfect training environment. It made me so happy.

 

Normally, coaching ten skaters at the World Championships would be a huge challenge. Even with five coaches from Team Brian, it would still be difficult to keep an eye on everyone. But on that day in March, seeing all the skaters brimming with motivation, I felt, “Alright, ten young athletes and five coaches, let’s head to Boston! Let’s go fight!” Each skater was evolving as they prepared for the World Championships, and Team Brian had become a powerhouse of energy.

 

 

 

3.15 Yuzuru's Trials Continue

 

Spoiler

We arrived in Boston full of enthusiasm, but as expected, the World Championships brought unexpected challenges. Yuzuru, too, faced one upsetting event after another.

 

First, there was the incident with Denis Ten during official practice on the day of the short program. The Japanese media made a big fuss about it, but in reality, it wasn't a big deal. During Yuzuru’s music run-through, Denis happened to be in the direction he was moving. This is a common occurrence. Skaters try to be mindful of each other’s positions, but sometimes they just don’t notice. Yuzuru and Javier are accustomed to practicing on rinks with nearly ten top-level skaters, so they are used to “monitoring the movements of other skaters while maintaining focus on their own practice.” Still, every skater has a slightly different sense of what feels like a safe distance. That’s probably why Yuzuru felt obstructed, while Denis didn’t think he was in the way.

 

Yuzuru’s anger was visible. I had never seen him like that before. Denis did not apologize immediately. Since obstructing someone’s path is a fairly common occurrence, a simple “I’m sorry” from Denis or his coach would have been enough. However, it happened just before the competition, when everyone was already tense, and nothing seemed to be going smoothly. I focused on calming Yuzuru, having him take deep breaths and repeating my instructions to him several times.

 

"Forget about this and move on. Don't waste your energy on other skaters. It's not worth it. Use your energy on yourself." It's easy to say, but I knew it's not easy to actually control your emotions.

 

In fact, the same thing happened to Javier during that official practice. Another skater from a different country got in the way during his music run-through. Naturally, I was frustrated. It felt like one thing after another!

 

After the competition, I spoke privately with Denis’s coach, Frank Carroll. I have a great deal of respect for Coach Carroll, and he respects me as well. That incident was something that the coaches needed to discuss and resolve quietly between ourselves. It was an experience that taught us the importance of organizing our feelings and moving forward.

 

Following official practice, Yuzuru’s routine was disrupted once again. After returning to the hotel for a massage, he was preparing to leave for the rink on the scheduled bus for the competition. When he went back to his room to get his luggage, the key malfunctioned and wouldn’t open. After going back and forth between the front desk and his room multiple times, Yuzuru ended up missing the bus.

 

However, Yuzuru did not panic or complain; instead, he kept it to himself. He skillfully turned his anxiety and anger into fighting spirit for the competition. He delivered a wonderful performance, landing all his jumps. Seeing the determination in his short program, I felt he had fully processed his emotions. Denis did not perform well enough to take first in the short program, and for the free skate, he was in a different official practice group from Yuzuru, so I felt there was no longer anything to be concerned about.

 

However, Yuzuru probably couldn’t completely erase the anxiety in his heart. In the short program, sheer willpower can carry you through, but the free skate requires mental balance. It couldn’t be helped. Furthermore, during the official practice on the morning of the free skate, the start time had been communicated incorrectly to Yuzuru’s support team, forcing him to shorten his warm-up. As a result, his official practice for the free skate didn’t go very well.

 

This was the first time so many difficult things had piled up at once, and the stress was far greater than anyone should have to endure. A string of misfortunes and unpredictable events kept coming. Yet this became an important experience for the Olympics and the following season. As an athlete and as a person, it is essential to have the ability to set boundaries and prevent emotionally disturbing events from affecting performance. The ability to separate any misfortune from one’s mind is a skill that must be developed through experience. In that sense, I felt that this World Championship was highly significant, as it presented Yuzuru with a new mental challenge.

 

 

 

3.16 "It’s Sinatra, Sinatra!"

 

Spoiler

Javier, on the other hand, was facing a problem unlike anything he had dealt with before. He had inflammation in his heel, and even practicing was painful. During the short program, not only was he struggling with the pain, but his anxiety about it caused mistakes on the ice. He fell on his signature quadruple Salchow and finished in second place. I realized that Javier’s injury was a serious situation that needed careful attention, both physically and mentally. At the same time, Yuzuru was also dealing with a lot of anxiety. So I spoke to Yuzuru:

 

"I’m keeping a close eye on you, Yuzuru. And you're doing well under these circumstances, so you'll be fine."

 

After the short program, while talking to Yuzuru like that, I had to focus my attention on Javier’s injury. The pain had shaken his confidence so much that he said, “I’ll skip official practice the day after the short program. One day of rest should be enough,” and he did skip the next day’s practice. However, by the morning of the free program, the pain hadn’t eased, so I decided to make him sit out official practice as well.

 

Javier’s heel pain was caused by his skate boots. When he bent his ankle, the boot pressed against his heel and caused pain. The more he practiced, the worse it got, but as long as he didn’t put on his skates, he didn’t feel any pain. So we had him undergo treatment using microwaves and applied every possible scientific method. Thanks to two days of rest, the treatment, and painkillers, his pain eased just before the competition. It felt like we'd just made it in time, or rather, we had managed to keep it under control for just a moment.

 

However, the fact remained that he had missed two days of practice. Any ordinary athlete might think, “I couldn’t practice for two full days. If my performance is poor, it’s because I didn’t get enough practice.” In a situation where such a convenient excuse exists, an athlete can’t give their best. That’s why a little psychological “magic” is necessary. I thought about it this way: when Javier properly rests over the weekend, he can perform amazingly on Mondays. So in Boston, I said to him:

 

"Alright, you’ve had two full days of rest, so today is just like any other Monday. You rested well over the weekend, and today is your day to be at your best. You always skate amazingly on Mondays, after all."

 

Javier beamed and said, “Of course.” His confidence surged in an instant. Then came the moment he had been waiting for all year: it was time to skate his free program.

 

Javier’s free program was set to Frank Sinatra. This was a nod to the fact that the 2016 World Championships would be held in Boston. At first, I thought “Danny Boy” would be perfect for Javier. It’s a beautiful melody that resonates deeply with Irish people. Boston has a large population of Irish immigrants, and even today many Irish-Catholics live there, so I wanted to honor them in that way. In fact, I’m half Irish myself. However, after listening to Danny Boy and several related songs in different combinations, I couldn’t find one that felt quite right. In the end, we decided to save it for exhibition, and the music selection process had to start over.

 

Choosing music is a very difficult task. In my case, whenever I hear a song in a café, on TV, or elsewhere that catches my attention, I immediately make a note of it and collect ideas. When it comes time to create a new program, I refer to these notes and ask David, “There’s this song, what do you think?” When I was still competing, the choreographer would select several songs, and the coach and I would join in the discussion. Now, the three of us—David, Javier, and I—follow the same approach.

 

So we revisited Javier’s free program with David, and since Boston is a major U.S. city, we shifted our focus to the fact that this was a competition held in the United States. Then we asked ourselves: who is a true legend in the U.S.? Of course, it’s Frank Sinatra. I had also read in a skating magazine that Javier had said, “I love Frank Sinatra.” It’s music from our generation, but Javier said he enjoys listening to Sinatra's music on a regular basis. I immediately called David.

 

"It’s Sinatra, Sinatra! Javier loves him too."

 

The problem was that Sinatra was such a legend, with so many famous songs, that I couldn’t decide on my own. I asked David to help find the right piece. True to form, with his vast knowledge, David quickly came across the soundtrack from the movie "Guys and Dolls."

 

When I first listened to the opening of "Guys and Dolls," I thought, “Hmm, I’m not sure about this.” It wasn’t a particularly well-known Sinatra song. But later, when I saw Javier skate the program that David had choreographed, I was truly amazed. The detailed choreography and the movements between jumps—that is, the “transitions”—were brilliant. The rest of the footwork was packed with creative ideas as well. Above all, Javier’s movements and the music fit together in an almost magical way.

 

As the saying goes, leave things to the experts. As a coach, I tend to focus on well-known music, but a choreographer’s choice always hits just the right note. The moment I saw Javier skate, I fell in love with this program. From the very start of the season, I could already picture him performing it in Boston and captivating the American audience.

 

 

 

3.17 "You have plenty of time to beat me"

 

Spoiler

It was the day of the free skate in Boston. With his health, mindset, and preparation all in place, Javier delivered a perfect Friday night. He landed all three quadruple jumps cleanly, along with all of his other jumps. The audience was completely under his spell. It was truly a magical moment. After Yuzuru’s performances at NHK Trophy and the Grand Prix Final, it felt almost unbelievable to experience yet another miracle together as a coach. But none of it was accidental. Javier had arrived fully prepared, physically and mentally, bringing with him a program created specifically for the Boston audience. For Javier, this competition became an important lesson: rather than relying on luck or miracles, meticulous preparation is what makes moments like this possible.

 

Javier scored 216.41 points in the free skate and won with a total of 314.93 points. Unfortunately, Yuzuru struggled in the free skate and finished second overall with 295.17 points. Yuzuru had shone in the short program, and Javier in the free skate, so it wasn’t possible for both to take first place. Finishing first and second was the best outcome they could hope for, just like at the Grand Prix Final.

 

Right after the competition, Yuzuru was visibly disappointed. He did manage to smile and praise Javier’s victory, which was very polite of him. But Javier, who was with him, could tell that Yuzuru was frustrated with himself, so he treated him with great humility. Then, he jokingly said:

 

“Don’t be so down. There are still two whole years until the Olympics. You’ve got plenty of time to beat me completely.”

 

It was such a Javier thing to say. As he said, there will be plenty of competitions where Yuzuru beats Javier, and vice versa. And that’s perfectly fine. That’s what being comrades-in-arms is all about.

 

That night, after the competition, once the awards ceremony and press conference were over, we returned to the hotel to find a crowd of fans waiting. There were Yuzuru’s fans and Javier’s fans, and both groups greeted them with applause. Each group even praised the other’s favorite skater. It was a wonderful sight, and it clearly showed that the fans understand that Javier and Yuzuru are friends who respect each other.

 

It had been a year in which the two deepened their strong bond, both as rivals and as friends.

 

 

 

3.18 Commentary

 

Spoiler

There had probably never been a season in which figure skating evolved so rapidly.

 

At the start of the off-season, Hanyu was struggling with “the quad jump in the second half of his short program.” He made consecutive mistakes at his first competitions, the Autumn Classic and Skate Canada. Even considering the injuries and illnesses, by his second season Hanyu was still struggling to achieve the goals he had set in the 2014 off-season. There was no way an aggressive young skater like him could accept that.

 

“Even if I were able to perform without mistakes, it would only mean I had done what I tried to attempt last season, and I couldn’t say that I had truly grown.”

 

Having made that declaration, he embarked on a month of intense training in Toronto. At the NHK Trophy, he deliberately increased the difficulty by attempting two quadruple jumps in the short program. His aggressive, risk-taking approach paid off: he landed all of his jumps and earned a score of 322.40 points.

 

“From Skate Canada to the NHK Trophy, I went through truly grueling, blood-and-sweat training. I would like to thank everyone around me, the Cricket Club rink, and my coaches who allowed me to train.”

 

The previous world record had been 295.27 points, set by Patrick Chan in 2013, but Hanyu surpassed it by more than 27 points, setting a new world record. Two weeks later, at the Grand Prix Final, he delivered another perfect performance, achieving a monumental score of over 330 points, truly worthy of being called an absolute champion. On scoring over 300 points in two consecutive competitions, Hanyu said:

 

“Up to this point, many people assisted me in planning how to manage my conditioning and time my peak performance. Working through that in my own way during practice gave me confidence.”

 

It was proof of the accuracy of Orser’s plan, and Hanyu’s victory was a testament to his own efforts to take control of it. The skater most inspired by Hanyu was none other than his teammate, Fernandez, a jumping prodigy who had been executing two types of quadruple jumps since the 2010–2011 season. The following week, at the National Championships, he successfully landed two quadruple jumps in the short program. At the subsequent European Championships, he became the second skater in the world, after Hanyu, to surpass 300 points. At the climactic World Championships in Boston, Hanyu led after a perfect short program, while Fernandez delivered a flawless free skate to take the lead. Fernandez finished with a total of 314.93 points, securing his second consecutive world title.

 

The strength of Team Brian was something that impressed everyone, both officials and the media. Strategically, it was Orser’s thorough study of the scoring system and his meticulous planning of conditioning and peak performance. Mentally, it stemmed from Orser’s community-driven approach: by uniting coaches and athletes as a single team for competitions, he fostered stability and resilience in the skaters’ minds.

 

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 4
The 300-Point ‘Milestone’

 

 

 

4.1 The secret to scoring over 300 points (1) GOE 

 

Spoiler

I’ve been inundated with questions from the media asking, “How did you manage to score over 300 points?” as well as inquiries from people involved in the sport asking, “What should my skater do to break 300 points?” As a result, I’ve once again found myself in the position of explaining the secret to scoring over 300 points. Many skaters and coaches try to boost their scores by saying, “Let’s add another quadruple jump or a triple Axel.” Of course, at a minimum, that’s something we did as well. However, the real secret isn’t the number of quads, nor the base value of the jumps. The answer lies in GOE (Grade of Execution) and PCS (Program Components Score). Let me explain what that means.

 

Let’s start with GOE, or Grade of Execution. In the men’s event, there are a total of 13 jumps across the short program and the free skate. There are also five spins and three sequences. For each of these elements (technical elements), judges evaluate the quality of execution and apply plus or minus points on a seven-level scale from −3 to +3. This is GOE, and how effectively you can earn positive GOE is critically important.

 

In Yuzuru’s free skate at the 2015 Grand Prix Final (score sheet 1), the opening quadruple Salchow, quadruple toe loop, and the triple Axel in the middle of the program received jump GOEs of “+3, +3, +3, +3 …,” with almost all judges awarding +3. For the choreography sequence, all judges gave “+3”! Six of the nine judges also awarded the step sequence a “+3.” All spins were level 4, with GOEs of “+2” or “+3.”

 

Javier’s free skate (score sheet 2) at the 2016 World Championships also received a string of +3s for the opening quadruple toe loop and the quadruple Salchow in the middle of the program: +3, +3, +3. Take a look at the other elements as well. For the choreography sequence, seven out of nine judges gave “+3.” For the step sequence, six out of nine judges gave “+3.” It’s fair to say the performance was nearly perfect.

 

 

What’s especially encouraging are the spins. When Javier first came to the Cricket Club, they were usually rated “−1.” Even when there were no obvious mistakes, his spins were usually level 1–2 and often received negative GOEs, making them a weak element. At this World Championships, however, he had two level-4 spins, with GOE of “+2.” That is major progress.

As a result, both skaters are receiving not only the base value points for jumps and spins, but also a large amount of positive GOE. Looking at Yuzuru’s score sheet from the Grand Prix Final, the added points are “14.36 points in the short program, 25.73 points in the free skate, for a total of 40.09 points.” Javier at the World Championships received “5.71 points in the short program, 23.32 points in the free skate, for a total of 29.03 points” in added GOE. It's clear that these additions account for a large portion of the scores that put them “over 300 points.”

 

 

 

4.2 The secret to scoring over 300 points (2) PCS 

 

Spoiler

Next is the Program Components Score (PCS). Many young skaters focus only on whether they land their jumps and claim personal bests depending on that. However, if your goal is to truly raise your personal best, what you should pay attention to is PCS. This is the score that reflects the overall quality of the program itself and truly represents a skater’s ability.

 

Of course, everyone tries to improve PCS, but I feel that few skaters perform in a way that truly leads to higher PCS. A common misconception is to think, “I’ll improve my artistry to raise PCS,” and take dance or ballet lessons off-ice. But this is missing the point.

 

If you study the rules carefully, it’s easy to understand. In skating, the performance evaluation consists of five components: “Skating Skills,” “Transitions,” “Performance,” “Choreography/Composition,” and “Interpretation of the Music” (before the 2016 revision). In other words, "performance" does not mean standing still while shaking your hips, acting emotionally, or using dramatic facial expressions. It strictly refers to these five components. If you misunderstand this, your PCS will never increase.

 

Furthermore, something that other teams may not notice is that high-GOE skating—that is, technically high-quality execution—has a major impact on PCS.

 

Take another look at Javier’s free skate at the 2016 World Championships (score sheet 2). For “Choreography/Composition” and “Interpretation of the Music,” eight of the nine judges awarded the maximum score of 10. This wasn’t because Javier stood still and mimicked Frank Sinatra. It was because his jumps, including three quadruples and two triple Axels, along with his spins and step sequences, were fully integrated with the music. High-GOE performance, in other words, technically high-quality skating, is what earns such high PCS. As a result, he received 98.36 points, nearly 100.

 

The same applies to Yuzuru. In his free skate at the 2015 Grand Prix Final, he delivered a program where jumps, spins, and steps all harmonized perfectly. This earned him numerous PCS scores of 10 and a total of 98.56, nearly a perfect 100 (score sheet 1). However, at the World Championships the following year, performing the same program to the same music, a few shaky jumps caused parts of the performance to falter. As a result, most PCS components were rated in the high 8s to low 9s, bringing his total PCS down to 92.02 points.

 

Patrick Chan, who has consistently received world-leading PCS scores, is another skater who understood this secret and developed his talent accordingly. He earns +3 GOEs on high-quality quadruple toe loops, as well as +3 GOEs on step sequences and choreographic sequences. When he performs a program with minimal jump mistakes and high overall execution, he consistently scores in the 9s across all PCS components.

 

Do you see the point? If every element of a performance is executed at high quality, the overall program quality increases, and PCS rises as a result. “Artistic” or emotionally moving performances fundamentally depend on high-quality skating. To go a step further, here’s the key: positive GOE and high PCS are correlated. Without both being high, no number of quadruple jumps will be enough to surpass 300 points.

 

It was the same with Kim Yuna. In her case, we took exactly the same approach. Not only did we focus on the quality of jumps, but we also strengthened her spins to earn significant GOE, because spins were not her strong suit. The same applied to her step sequences. At first, both she and the Korean Skating Federation asked me to focus on improving jumps, ensuring she could land them in competition, and teaching her the triple Axel. They believed that no matter how much she practiced spins, she couldn’t win the Olympics. But through training with me, she understood that accumulating GOE points was crucial. Within the first two years, she developed into a skater who could earn points through spins and steps, and she never asked to practice the triple Axel again.

 

In the latter two years, she made dramatic improvements to her PCS. By raising the quality of her elements during the first two years, she was able to perform routines where every move was perfectly in sync with the music, steadily increasing her PCS with each competition. As a result, Kim Yuna scored 228.56 points at the Vancouver Olympics, a figure that still stands as the highest-ever score for a female skater in the world.

 

This is what it means to earn points in figure skating. This is how you win. When asked, “How do you score over 300 points?” the answer is simple: GOE and PCS.

 

 

 

4.3 Both Yuzuru and Javier can still improve

 

Spoiler

Since Yuzuru and Javier first scored over 300 points, I’ve shared this secret with many people. Everyone understood it, and in the future, they’ll likely try to use the same method to surpass 300 points. So, does that mean other teams will catch up to us? The answer is no. Raising GOE and PCS is not something that can be done in just a year or two. On top of that, we’re not satisfied with the current skills of these two. They are already world-class, but if you ask whether there’s still room for improvement, the answer is yes.

 

So how have we managed to raise GOE and PCS? It starts with practicing each day with a clear sense of purpose, especially focusing on skating itself. Simply repeating the same exercises without thinking is completely meaningless. It also relies on having the right guidance: a coach like Tracy Wilson, who comes from ice dance and knows the fundamentals of skating inside out, can spot even the smallest flaws in a skater’s movement. At the same time, a brilliant choreographer like David Wilson refines the skaters’ emotional expression almost every day, bringing out subtle nuances that make a big difference.

 

In my team, practice begins the moment we step onto the ice. From the very moment we start slow warm-ups. For us, it’s not just about warming up the body. It is about exploring the contact between the skate blades and the ice. We are constantly striving for high-quality skating.

 

We change our exercises almost every month. First, we focus on the obvious things: the speed of our skating and how we use our feet on curves, which directly relate to the "transitions" and "skating skills" sections of the PCS. Once these larger elements improve, we focus on smaller details, such as the angle of small turns or the speed from start to the finish of a turn. These gradually affect the overall GOE and PCS of the program.

 

During the off-season, I invite judges and technical specialists to the Cricket Club to ask for their opinions on the programs and the composition of the jumps. I also have them check that steps and spins achieve “Level 4.” During the season, I sometimes show judges our score sheets after competitions to understand the reasons behind their scoring.

 

As the season begins, there are more days when skaters deliver satisfying performances in program run-throughs. Especially Yuzuru and Javier, who sometimes execute their jumps flawlessly. When that happens, I first applaud them. Then I call them over, as if to say, “Look, you did it,” and give them a push by saying:

 

"That’s great, but it’s still not good enough. There’s still room to improve. You landed the jump in this form, but that will only get you about +1 GOE. Make the entry more clearly difficult and jump more lightly. Also, in the second half of the program, the spin endings were a bit sloppy, which gives the whole program a rough impression. You need to handle all the choreography more carefully."

 

About a month before the World Championships or Olympics, we start “looking for flaws” in tiny details that aren’t explicitly scored by the rules, things like how spins are stopped or how steps are entered. This helps the skaters feel, “If we can manage even these small details, we’re fully prepared.” By building up this kind of practice over four to five years, we have been able to incrementally raise GOE and PCS by 0.1 points at a time.

 

The effect of this strategy to raise PCS became clearly evident in Yuzuru’s Sochi Olympic season.

 

In the 2012–2013 season, when Yuzuru joined Team Brian, his PCS ranged from the 7s to the low 8s. His main competitor was Patrick Chan, who was already consistently scoring in the 9s for PCS. So we asked ourselves: why does Patrick keep getting such high scores? Yuzuru could jump the quadruple toe loop well, and was better at the triple axel than Patrick. Yet he couldn’t beat Patrick because the gap in PCS was so large that it couldn’t be closed by the difference in jump scores alone.

 

So, what training had Patrick already done that Yuzuru hadn’t? It was, of course, training to improve the quality of his skating, focusing on power, speed, and tempo. That was the key to victory. Yuzuru spent two years thoroughly working on the fundamentals of skating. In the first year, his GOE increased significantly, and during the Sochi Olympic season he steadily improved his PCS. Looking at his scores from that season: at the 2013 Skate Canada free skate, his PCS was 76.86. At the following Trophée Éric Bompard in France, it rose to 81.94. Then, at the Grand Prix Final, he surpassed Patrick’s PCS in the short program and boosted his free skate PCS in one go to 92.38. With PCS scores now nearly equal, Yuzuru, who excelled in jumps, was able to surpass Patrick in total score and secure the victory.

 

However, the reverse could also happen. Skaters like Boyang Jin, Shoma Uno, and Mikhail Kolyada (Russia) are likely always thinking, “How can we beat Yuzuru and Javier? What training are they doing that we haven’t done?” Since they know how Yuzuru competed during the Sochi Olympic season, they will probably work on raising their PCS before the PyeongChang Olympics. The key, however, is whether they know how to improve PCS and whether they have coaches who can teach them to do it.

 

But even if our rivals improve in this way, our direction doesn’t change. Even if the competition in quadruple jumps intensifies to the point where every jump is a quad, our approach remains the same: we simply add one more quad on top of the foundation of raising GOE and PCS.

 

 

 

4.4 The Four-Year Plan As Expected

 

Spoiler

While both of them scoring over 300 points was a groundbreaking moment for the media and fans, for me it was the moment when our four-year plan came to fruition just as expected.

 

I believe that for an athlete to truly evolve and awaken in the full sense, it takes four years of practicing under a consistent plan. Sometimes, in the year right after changing coaches, an athlete may achieve slightly better results, but this does not mean that their talent itself has awakened. It simply means their motivation has increased, allowing them to demonstrate the ability they already had. For their actual skill to fundamentally change, four years is a good benchmark.

 

Javier joined Team Brian in the summer of 2011, and Yuzuru followed in the summer of 2012. Both of them honed the skills they already had and became Olympic and World Champions, but their true breakthroughs had not yet occurred.

 

Our long-term plan was to start by completely rebuilding the basics of skating, refining every jump, reworking how they approach programs, and polishing how they present their performances. When all of these elements come together perfectly, four years of accumulated practice suddenly pay off. Skating doesn’t get better just from practicing for a single day. For that reason, as the saying goes, “three years on a stone,” it takes four years of practicing every day with the same coach, the same system, and the same focus. At first, progress comes little by little, but before you know it, you'll be far ahead of your rivals.

 

That's what happened with Kim Yuna. Slowly, little by little, she grew. The year before the Vancouver Olympics, she scored over 207 points at the World Championships, revealing her explosive potential. But at that point, she was still simply the top Olympic favorite. Four years after starting training with me, she reached the Olympics and achieved an unprecedented score exceeding 228 points. A breakthrough happens once a certain point is reached. That Vancouver Olympics felt like dynamite going off. In Yuna’s case, it took four years to prepare the fuse. From this, I learned a concrete example of how it takes roughly four years for an athlete to change both personally and technically.

 

Therefore, when the athletic genius Javier arrived, and when the bundle of talent Yuzuru arrived, I believed it would take four to five years for them to refine their skills and become a complete package. And as expected, in the 2015–2016 season, which was Yuzuru’s fourth year and Javier’s fifth year with Team Brian, both experienced a truly remarkable breakthrough. At the 2015 World Championships in Shanghai, Javier won with 273.90 points, and Yuzuru scored 271.08. Just one year later, Javier became World Champion with over 314 points, and Yuzuru set a new world record with over 330 points. In a single year, Javier increased his score by 41 points, and Yuzuru improved his personal best by 37 points

 

 

 

4.5 Gradually raising the bar for each other

 

Spoiler

The “quadruple jump story” the two of them have written was never about chasing a 300-point score. As both rivals and teammates, they naturally pushed each other in practice, competing quietly and focusing on not losing in their strongest areas. Their achievements were simply the natural outcome of that daily effort.

 

Even before the Sochi Olympics, Javier had been incorporating three quads into his free program. One of them was in the second half of his program, where he was actually more likely to succeed than in the first half. Yuzuru, on the other hand, had two quadruple jumps in his free program, and he only began putting a quadruple jump in the second half starting in the 2014–2015 season. He struggled with it, and even at the start of the 2015-2016 season he still hadn't succeeded. For some reason, Yuzuru couldn't land it in competitions. Then, one day, Yuzuru asked Javier:

 

"Javier, how do you manage to jump the quad in the second half?"

 

Javier replied to Yuzuru:

 

"Yuzuru, I've never even thought about that. Just jump it."

 

Yuzuru was able to land it soon after that. Javier applauded every time Yuzuru landed a quadruple jump in the second half.

 

Starting with the NHK Trophy in the 2015–2016 season, Yuzuru added one more quadruple jump to both his short and free programs, giving him one more quad than Javier. Then, beginning with the European Championships, Javier also increased his short program to two quadruple jumps. The two went head-to-head with their quads, and as a result, they ended up performing the same number of jumps at the World Championships. This is a perfect example of “raising the bar.” In high jump, when one athlete clears the bar and sets a personal best, the rival clears it too, and the bar is raised again. Repeat this cycle, and before long, both had surpassed 300 points.

 

They didn’t set their goals based on someone else’s standards, like “to surpass 300 points” or “to include three quadruple jumps to match the times.” Evolution comes from gradually raising the bar right in front of you, little by little.

 

Their goal was not set according to someone else’s measure, such as “to surpass 300 points” or “to have three quadruple jumps to match the times.” Gradually raising the bar right in front of them is what leads to evolution.

 

The fact that both of them peaked in the same season had a very positive psychological effect on their future development. Their approach to surpassing 300 points was fundamentally the same, so by watching each other, they could confirm the strong belief that “our strategy was working.” What was particularly significant was that it happened twice each in the 2015–2016 season. Two occurrences aren’t a coincidence; they serve as confirmation. First, Yuzuru had his breakthrough, and Javier, whose fuse was already lit, followed with his own. This was the synergistic effect of being on the same team.

 

It’s interesting, isn’t it? The reason both of them surpassed 300 points was precisely because they had each other. If Yuzuru had been practicing alone, constantly worrying only about whether he could land his quadruple jumps, could he have achieved such scores? Having a rival like Javier, who excelled in both jump quality and overall performance, right in front of him allowed Yuzuru to focus on the completeness of his entire program. Conversely, if Javier had been practicing alone, trying to perfect a mysterious “monster” score of 330 points without a reference point, he would have been unsure whether he was aiming for 300 or 330, increasing his anxiety. Having Yuzuru as a model provided him with a realistic and reliable benchmark for setting achievable goals.

 

From a coach’s perspective, it was fascinating that the two of them peaked at different times. Rather than one skater dominating the entire season, Yuzuru excelled in the first half, while Javier shone in the second half. What this shows is how they can positively influence each other and what timing each of them is naturally strong at. It also provides clues for planning how to surpass 300 points, and eventually 330 points, leading up to the Olympics. Choosing the right competitions, creating outstanding programs, and setting goals that excite both skaters are essential. On top of that, controlling how they peak for each major event is critical. This process is repeated for every competition.

 

 

 

4.6 More than a Score: "The Greatest Moment"

 

Spoiler

What kind of impact did the astonishing score of over 300 points have on the two of them? Many people were moved when they saw Yuzuru surpass 330 points, but at the same time, I think they worried, “Can Yuzuru even exceed this number again? Won’t this score become a burden for him?”

 

But there’s no need to worry. That was truly a decisive score. Everyone must understand that it’s not something you can achieve every time. In track and field terms, it’s like setting a world record in the 100 meters. Does Usain Bolt break his record at every race? Not at all. Such moments may happen once a year, or even once every four years. It’s the result of concentrating all of one’s physical and mental peaks, unleashing a power that comes only once or twice in a lifetime. Figure skating is the same. Therefore, what we, the fans, and everyone involved must understand now is not to wish for a score over 330 points, but but rather to hope for the right timing: “If another magical moment comes, let it be at the Olympics.”

 

That said, I think it’s the athletes themselves who find this situation hardest to accept. Yuzuru is a young man who is always challenging himself to surpass his own scores, while Javier is someone who constantly wants to bring smiles to everyone around him.

 

The experience of achieving such a monumental milestone is on a completely different level than simply winning the World Championships. It’s the experience of “making history and carrying that history.” Only a very few athletes can truly experience it. I remember when Yuna first surpassed the 200-point mark. At the 2009 World Championships, Yuna scored 207.71 points. It was a historic achievement. Leading up to the Olympics the following year, Yuna faced not only expectations to win, but also the added pressure of “winning while surpassing 200 points.” From the very day an athlete sets such a milestone, they must contend with that record. Expectations go far beyond merely winning.

 

Yuzuru and Javier are in a similar situation. The expectations from those around them are no longer just to “win,” but to “win while surpassing 330 points.” And in the 2016–2017 season, even though it was still the year before the Olympics, such a score was already expected of them. They needed to understand from the outset that this is the environment in which they would spend their time leading up to the Olympics.

 

They must not be swayed by the expectations around them. Our goal is the 2018 Olympics. Keeping that in mind clearly is an important wisdom for reaching the goal without making any mistakes. Why do I emphasize restraining outside expectations? Because I had a similar experience and learned from it. This goes back to when I first started attempting the triple Axel. My first successful one was still as a junior, at the 1979 Canadian National Championships. When I landed it, everyone made a huge fuss. From the following year onward, every time I competed, the media would ask, “Will you attempt the triple Axel? Will you succeed?” Even after the performance, they would ask, “How was your triple Axel today?”

 

The media only saw me through the milestone of the triple Axel. They didn’t report on how artistic my performance was, or how high-quality my other jumps were. Everyone expected a triple Axel every time, but it didn’t always go perfectly. Even if I failed the opening triple Axel, I could still win by delivering a strong performance and executing the rest of my jumps well. Yet during my performances, headlines like “Brian wins, but fails the triple Axel” would flash through my mind. The expectations of those around me weighed heavily, becoming a constant pressure throughout my career.

 

The same is true for “breaking 300 points.” You must not lose yourself by worrying too much about fans or media reactions. In that sense, having not just one but two skaters on the same rink is ideal. After all, the hardest battle is always the one against the “invisible enemy.”

 

After the 2016 World Championships, Javier said to me:

 

“I don’t really care much about my score of 314 points. It’s not even my best score yet.”

 

I thought he was an interesting kid. He meant that records like “his own 300-point mark” or “Yuzuru’s 330 points” are irrelevant to his goals for the next season. This shows he has successfully switched his mindset toward the new season. In fact, in the new season, both Yuzuru and Javier would skate new programs and pursue new directions. A fresh start from scratch. If they want to surpass 300 points again, they must carefully examine every detail of their programs and accumulate experience through competitions. Just because a skater once exceeded 330 points doesn’t mean that surpassing 300 points will be easy.

 

My mission is to make sure everyone truly understands this. Being asked, “When will you surpass 330 points again?” is nothing but a source of pressure. Whether a skater surpasses 330 points has nothing to do with their growth or development. That’s why my job now is to explain, every time I meet the media and fans, the importance of timing.

 

“May the next magical moment come at the Olympics.”

 

I want to make this motto clear, at least to the fans of Yuzuru and Javier. Don't you want to experience the greatest moment, which only comes once or twice in an athlete's life, at the very best competition?

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 5

The Pre-Olympic Season: 2016–2017

 

 

 

5.1 Does being the World Champion bring pressure or confidence?

 

Spoiler

The 2016–2017 pre-Olympic season is an extremely important year when it comes to planning Olympic strategy. Whether an athlete should aim to win the gold medal at the World Championships in the year before the Olympics, or instead set their goals elsewhere, depends on the athlete’s situation.

 

Yuzuru has won silver medals at the World Championships two years in a row, so I think he is now desperately trying to change that situation. He will approach the season with a strong resolve, placing great importance on results and rankings. If Yuzuru were to become world champion at the 2017 World Championships while Javier failed to secure a third consecutive title, Yuzuru would gain confidence heading into the Olympics, and it would be a very meaningful title for him. Javier, having already won two consecutive world titles, generally speaking would not lose much confidence even if he missed out on becoming world champion in 2017. There is also the view that it may be better to return to the role of challenger and compete in the Olympics as a ‘former’ world champion. However, since he would be spending every day together with Yuzuru and receiving daily stimulation from someone approaching the challenge with a do-or-die resolve, it’s not a matter of saying, ‘It’s fine to lose.’ Both of them want to gain confidence and a sense of momentum during the pre-Olympic season, so it will be a contest in which neither is willing to back down.

 

Alternatively, suppose Javier were to become world champion again in 2017. He would then go to the Olympics as a three-time consecutive world champion, and enormous pressure would be placed on him. Yuzuru, meanwhile, would think even more strongly, ‘The PyeongChang Olympics are what really matter,’ and would become increasingly fixated on winning at the Olympics, so the pressure on Yuzuru would also be considerable. Of course, there is also the possibility that someone other than Javier or Yuzuru could win. In that case, both Javier and Yuzuru would be even more highly motivated to win the Olympics at any cost, and as a result, the skater who wins the World Championships would end up carrying quite a heavy burden of pressure.

 

As the coach of both athletes, I have no opinion on ‘who should win and who should come second’ at the 2017 World Championships. In the spring of 2017, I will teach them methods of mental control and set strategies so that, no matter how the results turn out, they can use them to their advantage. In reality, whether they win or lose at the World Championships, it is possible to turn the outcome to their benefit.

 

Of course, this kind of mental control is not easy. Precisely because I myself had the heavy experience of being ‘world champion in the year before the Olympics,’ I have continued to think about the importance of mental control more than any coach in the world. I repeatedly simulated in my mind the 1987–1988 season, analyzing over and over how I could have approached it to my advantage.

 

I entered the Olympic season as the world champion of 1987, the year before the Olympics. Moreover, it was the Calgary Olympics held in my home country of Canada. For some reason, that season the Canadian team had no ‘previous-year world champions’ in any winter sport other than figure skating. That year, Canada had neither a world champion in skiing nor in hockey. Since I was the only titleholder at a home Olympics, I attracted enormous attention. In every newspaper, on every television program, and in every magazine, predictions of my gold medal topped the headlines, overshadowing ice hockey and skiing. It was no ordinary pressure. Therefore, I know very well both the meaning and the impact of being a world champion in the year before the Olympics.

 

Heading into the following year’s Olympics, whether an athlete feels being world champion as a burden or interprets it as a source of confidence depends entirely on the athlete. To proceed with perfect preparation, it is far too late to think, ‘Now what should I do?’ after winning the World Championships. In situations like this, a coach must develop mental-control strategies in advance. The moment the 2017 World Championships conclude, that is when my role begins.

 

“You will enter the Olympics as the world champion. As long as you don’t forget the know-how and reasons for how you became the 2017 champion, you’ll be fine. To maintain it next year…“

 

“Silver medal at the World Championships in the year before the Olympics. You know why you didn’t become the champion. If that’s the case, this can actually work to your advantage. That’s because…“

 

In this way, there are many methods to help athletes interpret results in a way that works to their benefit.

 

After the 2016–2017 season ends, I plan to give Yuzuru and Javier lectures like psychology classes. I'd like to provide them with psychological analysis and counseling. In this way, we can ensure they start the Olympic season on the right footing.

 

 

 

5.2 Choosing music with the Olympics in mind

 

Spoiler

The 2016 off-season represents a critical period for selecting music in the year preceding the Olympics. It is necessary to plan with consideration even for the music that will be used in the Olympic season itself. To fully understand this point, it is essential to discuss the topic from the perspective of “music selection for the Olympics and the four-year cycle leading up to it.” There are some general principles that usually apply.

 

First, I see the two years after the Olympics as a period of growth and development. During this time, skaters experiment with different approaches and explore new strengths. These two years are about deliberately challenging weaknesses, taking risks, discovering new aspects of themselves, and developing new performance skills. Rather than focusing on the judges, the emphasis is on finding programs that support the athlete’s personal growth.

 

The two years leading up to the pre-Olympic season are all about keeping the Olympics in mind. Typically, rule changes occur in the off-season two years before the Olympics, and there are no major changes in the following two years. Because of this, it’s essential during this period to carefully study the direction the rules are aiming for and the tendencies of the judges, and to incorporate these insights into the programs.

 

To understand what the judges and the International Skating Union expect from figure skating in the upcoming Olympics, it’s important during the pre-Olympic period to check how the techniques and performance elements in a program are evaluated. Programs that are too avant-garde are rarely chosen. After identifying these trends, in the Olympic season, we select programs without hesitation that are “sure to be well-evaluated,” “bring out the skater’s strengths,” and “can win.” Over the past decade, my choreographer David Wilson and I, along with the skaters on my team, have put a lot of thought into this.

 

I’ve spoken several times about Yuna Kim’s music choices. In the 2007–2008 season, three seasons before the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, she skated her free program to Johann Strauss’s Die Fledermaus. It’s a famous piece used by many skaters, but waltzes did not suit Yuna at all, and it was a poor program. Her strengths didn’t come through at all. It was a major mistake, but it was precisely through that experience that she learned. After that, she never skated to a waltz again until her retirement in 2014.

 

Reflecting on that, in the Olympic pre-season we aimed to enhance her evaluation with music that perfectly suited her: "Danse Macabre" for the short program and "Scheherazade" for the free program. This established Yuna’s artistic direction and gave her a sense of growth. She had a natural, dignified beauty, and when portraying a “strong woman,” she could convey strength elegantly without it feeling overly forceful. In this way, over the course of four years, she arrived at iconic pieces like James Bond’s "007" and Gershwin’s "Piano Concerto in F."

 

Such a four-year plan is not made only for medal-contending skaters like Yuna, Yuzuru, or Javier. This applies to all skaters: over the course of four years, we consider the kind of growth they should achieve and subtly embed both “mistakes” and “evolution” within their programs.

 

 

 

5.3 Yuzuru and Javier's 2-Year Programs

 

Spoiler

With the general principles of program selection in mind, during the 2016 off-season, I found myself with two young skaters who carried expectations of becoming Olympic champions.

 

Both of them are becoming leading figures in the skating world, so in addition to selecting music that helps them win, they must continue to grow as artists. It is important for the development of figure skating that skaters admired by everyone take on new artistic challenges and showcase a wide range of talents. They need to show that they can make various dance styles their own, while seamlessly incorporating quadruple jumps and spectacular spins. To do this, we must carefully consider how these two skaters will have evolved as athletes and as individuals over the next two years.

 

At the time of the Olympics, Yuzuru will be 23, and Javier will be just about to turn 27. We need to think about what music will allow them to perform at their absolute best at that time, and then work backward to decide what will be appropriate for the pre-Olympic season. It’s like buying clothes for a child. Anticipating their growth, we choose not what fits perfectly now, but what will fit perfectly in February 2018.

 

Yuzuru has decided to change the music for both his short and free programs. Having already delivered perfect performances, using the same music for two years would inevitably lead everyone to compare it to his flawless routines at the 2015 NHK Trophy and the 2015 Grand Prix Final. Therefore, he chose new music to explore an even more perfect means of expression.

 

First, it was decided that Yuzuru’s short program would be a rock piece by Prince. During the Sochi Olympic season, he had skated to "Parisienne Walkways," another rock-infused blues, proving that his body moves naturally to this style of music. Yuzuru isn’t a shy Japanese skater, and he has the potential to be a rock star. When dancing to upbeat music, such as in the finale of an ice show, his movements are effortless and full of energy. He has a natural sense of rhythm. Choosing a piece that allows him to move freely in the year before the Olympics will let him enjoy himself while continuing to develop his talent.

 

On the other hand, to avoid having the same type of music, he chose a beautiful piece for the free program: a medley by Japanese composer Joe Hisaishi. Yuzuru himself selected it and gave it the special title "Hope & Legacy." When he first proposed this piece, Yuzuru explained the special meaning and purpose it held for him:

 

“For me, ‘Legacy’ is the legacy I’ve built in my skating career. It’s about chasing Patrick, strengthening my quadruple jumps, and winning in Sochi. In the same way, the growing number of quadruple jumps being performed and passed on to younger skaters is also part of that legacy. ‘Hope’ comes from the encouragement, gratitude, and even the struggles I’ve received from fans and everyone who has supported me; things beyond my performances.”

 

Yuzuru is the type of skater who skates with heartfelt intention. It’s not just about “nice music” or “what the audience likes.” He needs a purpose for his skating. Knowing that this piece held such deep meaning for him, we had no hesitation in choosing it. Yuzuru skates with that feeling in his heart.

 

The pre-Olympic season requires strategy, even from a technical standpoint. Introducing a new quadruple jump during the Olympic season would be too late. To explore his quad strategy during the pre-Olympic season, we decided it would be best to choose music that Yuzuru could skate to naturally and comfortably, with his heart and soul. It was also the perfect way to challenge himself with more difficult quadruple jumps.

 

On the other hand, Javier continued using “Malagueña” for his short program from the previous season. However, since he had the choreography created by a professional flamenco dancer, fully expressing it was extremely challenging. In particular, because the choreography continues right up to the quadruple jumps, the program is also technically difficult. If he succeeds, he can earn extra points in GOE, but there is also a risk of mistakes. If he can land two quadruple jumps in this program with ease, it means he'll be able to jump a quadruple without needing to prepare for the run-up. I considered this an excellent exercise piece leading up to the Olympics.

 

For his free program, Javier chose a piece that plays to his strengths: a medley of Elvis Presley songs. Javier loves portraying different characters and is a talented performer who can fully embody any role. Originally, the Presley music was intended for an exhibition program, but when the three songs were connected, it created a flow that could also work for the free program.

 

However, each of the three songs features a different character, and the rhythm changes, so fully embodying them is challenging. He must jump quads whether the tempo is fast or slow. Rather than jumping to his own rhythm, this program serves as an exercise to ensure he can execute quads to any rhythm. Additionally, there are fewer rest points than in his previous programs, so he must jump continuously without taking deep breaths. In the past, Javier always included moments to catch his breath, but this time he needs elevated cardiovascular endurance to skate through the program. In other words, while the music makes it look like he’s dancing effortlessly in his area of strength, the program actually requires much higher technical skill and stamina than before, essentially serving as a demanding training device. It’s a challenge unique to the pre-Olympic season.

 

And so the music for the two skaters was decided. Since this is the pre-Olympic season, neither their short nor free programs are yet their final pieces. They want to save their best music for the Olympics. Looking back at the Sochi Olympics, there was one lesson learned: the previous year, Javier skated the “Charlie Chaplin Medley,” which was a masterpiece and even better than his free program that Olympic season. That’s why, this time, I really want both of them to perform their ultimate programs at the Olympics. In fact, both Yuzuru and Javier already have ideas for fantastic pieces, but they are “saving” them so they can shine in February 2018.

 

 

 

5.4 Yuzuru’s Quadruple Loop as Rehabilitation After Injury

 

Spoiler

After the 2016 World Championships, Yuzuru took two months off from training due to a Lisfranc ligament injury to the instep of his left foot. He did not appear in ice shows either, and his condition was such that it was better not to walk and to rest completely rather than do rehabilitation, so he truly took time off. He did not return to Japan, but instead did whatever muscle training he was able to do in Toronto. When I saw him in early spring, he seemed well and was looking forward to resuming training in June. However, when he restarted practice at the end of June, he still could not put any load on his left foot. In order to resume quadruple training, we decided to proceed step by step.

 

When we considered which jump would place the least strain on his left foot, the first one that came to mind was the quadruple loop. It is performed by taking off from the right foot and landing on the right foot. Yuzuru had landed it successfully in practice, but no one had yet succeeded with it in competition. Working on such a high-difficulty jump right after an injury may seem unconventional, but given that he was still in the rehabilitation phase for a left-foot injury, we judged it to be the safest option.

 

The quadruple Salchow uses the left foot, so even though he had landed it many times the previous season, it took time for the success rate to improve again. His strongest jump, the quadruple toe loop, was the jump that caused the injury, so he did not resume practicing it until just before the Autumn Classic competition in September. During take-off, the left toe picks into the ice, which caused pain.

 

Let’s talk about the loop. In terms of base value, the quad loop is ranked above the quad Salchow and quad toe loop. The quad flip and quad Lutz have higher base values, but because both use a two-foot takeoff, it is easier to generate height and distance, which is why they were landed in competition before the loop. Since the loop is a true one-foot takeoff, its timing is extremely delicate, and skaters vary significantly in how well they can execute it.

 

In fact, I was never very good at the loop during my competitive career. Since the triple Axel was my signature jump, I focused most of my training on the Axel, and I started practicing the loop quite late. The first triple jump I landed was the Salchow, followed by the triple toe loop and triple Lutz, and then I succeeded with the triple Axel. I learned the flip and the loop later, but looking back, that was a major mistake in my skating career. I started practicing the triple loop far too late, and I wasn’t able to actually land it until I was 25, in my final competitive season.

 

There’s an English proverb: “You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” Jumps are something you learn intuitively when you’re young. By the time I became an “old dog,” I could understand the theory, but in practice, I wasn’t able to land the loop naturally. Yuzuru and Javier, on the other hand, both jump the loop very naturally. Yuzuru, in particular, has remarkable innate talent. Because he can execute the triple loop so beautifully, he also had the ability to extend that to the quadruple loop. This isn’t something I can teach. First, the skater has to develop their own unique timing through muscle memory. As coaches, our role is to make technical adjustments when their form begins to break down.

 

Once he actually started practicing, Yuzuru became obsessed with the quadruple loop. Naturally so, since it would be the first in the world if he succeeded. He became so fixated on the quad loop that he struggled to concentrate during program practices and skating sessions. I began to think, “Hmm, maybe we're not on the same page.” From my perspective, the quadruple loop was meant primarily as part of his injury rehabilitation. I never suggested practicing only the quad loop. I also planned to wait and see how well he could execute it before deciding whether it was truly necessary to include in competition.

 

During the off-season, it was important to practice technical elements like skating skills, spins, and steps, and his scores wouldn’t improve unless he worked on his entire program. Simply landing the quadruple loop wouldn’t boost his scores. I worried he might end up like a young skater who lands a quad but still suffers a crushing defeat because they don’t fully understand the scoring system. As a coach, there were many things I wanted to point out.

 

On the other hand, seeing Yuzuru jump the quadruple loop so beautifully, I couldn’t deny its value. The speed, the elegant curves, and the natural takeoff—it was all remarkable. When he landed it cleanly, it was absolutely fantastic to watch. His success rate had also risen to around 70 percent, making it even more consistent than both the Salchow and the toe loop.

 

 

 

5.5 Why insist on landing the quad loop?

 

Spoiler

Having mastered the quadruple loop over the summer, Yuzuru naturally proposed including it in his programs starting with his first competition in September. Given the jump’s high success rate and quality, as a coach, my assessment was “Go.” However, I felt that simply saying, “Sure, let’s do the quadruple loop” could risk losing the direction we had built up over the previous season. I didn’t want it to seem as if I were merely agreeing, “As long as you land the quad loop, it’s fine.” So I set some conditions for Yuzuru.

 

“It’s fine to include the quadruple loop. But you also need to land your other jumps cleanly and pay attention to your skating and performance. Only if you complete the program as a total package does it make sense to include the quadruple loop.”

 

Next, Yuzuru proposed his jump layout. In the short program: a quadruple loop and a quadruple Salchow. In the free program: a quadruple loop, two quadruple Salchows, and a quadruple toe loop, for a total of four quads. Not only was he adding a new type of quad compared to last season, but he also wanted to increase the total number of quads in the free program.

 

If I were following my strategy to land “two quads in the short and four in the free,” I would start by mastering the program as a whole. Skating, transitions, steps—everything outside the jumps would be perfected first. Then, rather than taking a gamble by attempting quad after quad, we would focus on executing each quad with high quality, gradually increasing from two quads to three, then four, over the course of the season. In practice, this approach actually leads to faster progress.

 

To explain this training method in more detail: each type of jump has its own timing and requires a different application of force. Adding a new jump to a program introduces an element that can disrupt the existing rhythm. If you focus only on the rhythm of the quadruple loop and prioritize it, the timing of all the other jumps can be thrown off. In other words, performing a perfect program requires not just the technical skill for each jump, but also the ability to blend jumps with different rhythms seamlessly within a single piece of music. This is why a skater might land a jump easily in practice, yet struggle to execute it cleanly when performing the full program.

 

When introducing a new jump into a program, you have to let it settle in while maintaining the rhythm and structure already established. This is a challenging aspect of skating that can only be learned through experience. Young skaters who suddenly added multiple quads in 2016 hadn’t yet faced the challenge of managing “rhythmic changes” when incorporating three or four different jumps at once. Landing each jump successfully in practice is one thing; weaving them seamlessly into an entire program is a completely different skill.

 

In this regard, both Yuzuru and Javier had experience from the previous season. Their bodies had already learned the rhythm needed to manage three quads in a program. I wanted Yuzuru to take advantage of this “edge.” Rather than letting the rhythm of the quad loop dominate the entire program, the goal was to integrate it smoothly into the overall balance of the program.

 

However, Yuzuru is the type of skater who always wants to give his absolute best. He’s a young athlete who wants to challenge himself, and that’s part of who he is. His priority was mastering the quadruple loop, and he would practice his program only on the side while focusing on that. As a result, during run-throughs with music, if the opening quad loop didn’t land, his motivation for the rest of the program would drop. Conversely, if he landed the quad loop, he would become satisfied and the rest of the program would suffer in quality. It was just like watching a junior skater. Even when Javier performed a perfect program right in front of him, landing quads in the latter half, Yuzuru showed no sign of being inspired.

 

There were even times when I questioned Yuzuru’s motivation. I wondered if his obsession with landing the quadruple loop wasn’t about pushing his own limits, but rather because other skaters were able to jump the quad flip and Lutz. If that were the case, he would lose sight of his true purpose. But Yuzuru is extremely stubborn. I knew that until he landed the quad loop for the first time, no amount of reasoning would get through to him. With the chance to achieve a world-first title right in front of him, and with the physical ability to do it, his focus was natural for an athlete. This was a completely different approach from my plan of "wanting Yuzuru to smile happily at the PyeongChang Olympics," but for the time being, I decided to let him pursue the quad loop in his own way until he succeeded.

 

 

 

5.6 A Score Unthinkable Last Season

 

Spoiler

On September 29, Yuzuru took to the ice for the season’s first competition, the Autumn Classic in Montreal. Yuzuru included a quadruple loop in both his short and free programs. If he had landed it in competition, it would have been a world first. Countless thoughts must have raced through his mind, and he was likely feeling a type of nervousness unlike any before. That’s why we, as his coaches, stayed calm and treated it like any other day.

 

Thanks to Yuzuru's hard work, he successfully landed a quadruple loop at the start of his short program. It was incredible. While I was excited about that historic moment, I also thought, “There’s still a long way to go in the performance.” However, the following quadruple Salchow ended up as a single, and when he tried to force it into a combination, he fell. What troubled me most was his lack of focus throughout the program, which made his transitions and skating look sloppy. After the performance, Yuzuru walked back to the spot where he had missed the Salchow and stared at the ice in frustration. I, on the other hand, was more concerned about how the program as a whole had fallen apart. As we walked together toward the kiss & cry, I said to him:

 

“This is a wonderful program for you. You were able to entertain the audience. It’s really a great program, isn’t it?”

 

I said that before praising him for landing the quadruple loop. In truth, I already knew that today’s short program wouldn’t earn a high score. That’s why I deliberately focused on the program itself. When the low score of 88.30 appeared, Yuzuru looked accepting rather than disappointed. He then explained why he had missed the quadruple Salchow: his foot had caught in a groove in the ice. But when practicing the same jump repeatedly, it’s common to get caught in a groove you’ve created yourself, and it was a mistake that could be corrected next time.

 

Back in the athlete’s corridor, we immediately checked the levels for his spins and step sequences. The step sequence was Level 4, which was a relief. Since this was the first performance of his program for the season, it was important to see how the technical controller would judge it in the opening competition. As a coach, this was all I could do on that day.

 

The free skate the following day unfolded in a similar way. Although he landed the quadruple loop cleanly, he made mistakes on the later quadruple Salchow and quadruple toe loop, and even fell on the final triple Lutz. It was clear he wasn't performing to his full potential. His score was 172.27, more than 47 points below his personal best. His PCS score was especially low at 86.60, with only one of the five categories in the 9s, an unthinkable score last season.

 

At the same time, the Japan Open was taking place in Japan. Shoma Uno, who had made remarkable progress since last season, took first place with a score of 198.55. His PCS was particularly impressive, with four categories in the 9s, totaling 90.00 points. Javier Fernández, who also competed at the Japan Open, placed second with 192.20 points. These scores were exactly in line with the plan for this time of year. His PCS score was a high 94.12, with two categories in the high 9s, making for a perfect start. Yuzuru, of course, must have seen the scores of Uno and Javier. He must have felt frustrated. I think he understood what he needed to do, because even though he landed the quadruple loop, his score was low.

 

However, the first Grand Prix event, Skate Canada, proved to be an even more frustrating competition for Yuzuru. He missed the opening quadruple loop in both the short program and the free skate. Perhaps due to a lapse in concentration, he made other mistakes as well. His total score was 263.06 points, placing him second behind Patrick Chan.

 

Finally, this is where my turn came.

 

 

 

5.7 Discussion and understanding

 

Spoiler

One day after Skate Canada, Yuzuru and I had a discussion. Tracy Wilson was there too.

 

"It's about time you listened to your coach's advice. You don't need to jump the quad loop every day, and you should practice your program. Your success with the quad loop at the Autumn Classic was impressive, but your performance was sloppy. Didn’t you lack the stamina to skate through the entire program? If you keep doing it this way, you'll never be able to complete a program with all the quads."

 

It wasn’t just about the score. I was also worried about Yuzuru’s injury.

 

"Do you know what dangers there are if you skate a program without enough stamina? If you’re tired in the latter half of your performance and recklessly try a quadruple Salchow or toe loop, you could land awkwardly, put strain on your ankle, and risk a serious injury. Don’t focus only on the opening quadruple loop. Now is the time to practice skating the entire program as a complete package, giving your all until the end and building your stamina."

 

Then, Yuzuru, who had been silently practicing the quadruple loop without expressing any opinion until now, finally spoke up, as if he had made up his mind.

 

“Until Skate Canada, it’s true that I practiced the quadruple loop a lot. But that’s because, for me, the quadruple loop is an integral part of the performance. For me, a program without the jumps landed is not a complete package.”

 

It was a groundbreaking moment. It was the first time Yuzuru had clearly expressed his thoughts in words. He hadn’t just been stubbornly fixated on the quadruple loop; he had his own logic. And when we finally exchanged our opinions, we realized that our ultimate goal was the same.

 

"To successfully land all the quadruple jumps, and on top of that, produce an excellent performance."

 

However, Yuzuru felt that jumps were slightly more important. Because his opinion differed from mine, he had been keeping silent. But ready for an argument, he asserted, "Jumps are not just part of the technique, they're part of the performance." He told me that, with that mindset, he practices jumps first in order to hone his performance.

 

By speaking honestly with each other, our purpose became clear, and I also felt emotionally refreshed. It had been five years since I teamed up with Yuzuru. I could feel that he trusted me, and I truly felt that he was the perfect partner. In a coach-athlete relationship, there are many ups and downs, with misunderstandings, disagreements, and moments of cooperation. It is within this kind of relationship that both sides learn from each other.

 

At the end of our discussion, I said:

 

"All right, let’s join the current quadruple jump competition. I’m not planning to play it safe either. But we’ll take a strategic route: include the quadruple loop, and in the free skate, put in four jumps of three different types. Pay attention to both the performance and the skating. Just don’t forget the awareness of the total package."

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

5.8 Third time surpassing 300 points

 

Spoiler

After Skate Canada, Yuzuru became a different person. The quadruple loop, which had once been such a central part of his routine, was now just one of three types of quadruple jumps. He also began paying more attention to the finer details of his performance and choreography. He had reached a turning point.

 

One day during practice, Yuzuru missed the first two jumps (the loop and Salchow) in his free skate run-through but successfully landed the last two (the Salchow and toe loop). He also landed a triple Lutz and both triple Axels, delivering a fantastic choreographic sequence. It was a major breakthrough. It was a performance that showed a change in the direction of Yuzuru’s practice, and whether or not he landed the loop no longer mattered. Yuzuru had come to understand the true significance of “skating a great program.” Perhaps it was a feeling akin to parental pride. It was a deeply moving experience.

 

Of course, as the season draws to a close, he aims to land all four quadruple jumps in his free skate. Naturally, that’s the goal. Yuzuru is on the right track, and this training gave me confidence that, if he continues like this, he will surpass 300 points and eventually land all four quads.

 

The next competition, the NHK Trophy, was held at Makomanai Ice Arena in Sapporo. He had skated at this venue many times before. It’s a historic arena where figure skating events took place during the Sapporo Olympics. Yuzuru was in top form. He is the type who performs better with fan support, so competing in his home country did not make him succumb to pressure.

 

This competition featured 17-year-old American Nathan Chen, who has been attracting attention this season. He has successfully landed all four types of quadruple jumps: Lutz, flip, Salchow, and toe loop. In his first competition, he attempted a record number of quads, landing two in the short program and five in the free skate. However, my impression was the same as when I watched Boyang Jin last season: there was no need to change our strategy. Jumping a lot of quads is not a shortcut to victory. Neither Yuzuru nor I felt any rush at all.

 

Yuzuru stumbled on the landing of the opening quadruple loop in the short program. It’s a jump with extremely tricky timing, so it was understandable. But from there, it was different from Skate Canada. He landed the quadruple Salchow without being shaken by the loop mistake. More than anything, he delivered a high-energy performance that connected with the audience. Watching him skate so vividly and alive was a relief for me. I felt that his PCS would also improve. It felt like he was finally able to debut a new short program that faithfully carried on what he had built up through the previous season.

 

Yuzuru looked a little disappointed about missing the quadruple loop, but he smiled and said, “I was so close~.” It was clear he felt the unique sense of accomplishment that comes with completing a great program. His short program score was 103.89 points, with all PCS in the 9s, totaling 46.54 points. This was the first time this season that he had all PCS scores in the 9s.

 

Meanwhile, Nathan fell on his quadruple Lutz but successfully landed the quadruple flip, finishing in second place with 87.94 points. He’s a young skater with a strong competitive spirit. For Yuzuru, having this kind of challenge was probably a good thing.

 

In the free skate, Yuzuru landed the quadruple loop cleanly. He likely wanted to succeed on Japanese soil, and it was a moment where he overcame a significant mental barrier. He fell on a quadruple salchow in the second half, but that didn't detract from his performance. Even in the latter half, he maintained his speed, skating as if fully merging with the beautiful music. Despite the mistake, he made it seem as though it never happened. It was a performance that reached a whole new level.

 

After his high score in the short program, I had a gut feeling: “He’s going to surpass 300 points.” I was eager to see the result, and when the score of 301.47 appeared, the Japanese fans erupted in cheers. Yuzuru looked relieved. It’s understandable. Once you score over 100 in the short program, the pressure of a chance to exceed 300 points is immense. And this was a competition in Japan. He had probably also been carrying the frustration from his last two underwhelming performances.

 

Unlike the two times he surpassed 300 points last season, this time there was a new achievement. He exceeded 300 points in both the short and free programs despite making mistakes. Last season, he achieved high scores because he skated perfectly, creating a magical moment. This time, it wasn’t a magical moment but a “pretty good performance.” And yet, he still managed to surpass 300 points.

 

Just how high Yuzuru is positioned in the figure skating world right now? Honestly, it’s a level beyond measure. For him, surpassing 300 points is no longer a burden. What he has built up over time was absolutely the right approach. I was amazed at how much he could evolve just by briefly discussing and confirming the direction of his training. It was truly a proud night.

 

 

 

5.9 Yuzuru peaks quickly

 

Spoiler

This season, there’s a crucial challenge we must tackle: peaking in February. Since the Olympics take place in February, they occur about a month and a half earlier than the World Championships, which are usually held at the end of March. That means, in an Olympic season, everything needs to be prepared slightly ahead of schedule. Waiting until the Olympic season to start adjusting for the peak would be far too late. During the pre-Olympic season, it’s essential to map out the fluctuations in condition over the entire season and learn how to manage them effectively.

 

Once the Olympic season begins, it can be emotionally intense. You can’t help but think, “The Olympics will be over in the blink of an eye!”, which makes it difficult to make any changes. That’s why it’s important to gain experience peaking in February during the 2016–2017 season. Even if it doesn’t go perfectly, understanding the cause of any adjustment mistakes is what matters. For my team, the 2016-2017 season will be a full-year simulation of the Olympic season.

 

Javier is keeping ice shows to a minimum, reducing travel, and staying in Toronto to focus on training so that he peaks in February. Yuzuru is also doing his injury rehabilitation in Toronto and has established a solid training routine based there.

 

In October 2016, I aimed to get Javier off to a strong start for the season. Since he had performed well at the Japan Open in October 2015, the training patterns from summer 2015 served as a useful reference. I keep detailed records of what both skaters practiced for each competition, and I reviewed these notes to plan the training pace. When Javier arrived at the September camp, I noticed he was slightly behind compared to last year, so I gave him a harder workout. By the end of the camp, he had caught up, and as a result, he started the 2016 Japan Open strongly, scoring in the 192 range in the free program.

 

I explain everything about peaking to my skaters. I want Javier to understand his training process and see for himself that following the schedule leads to success. This gives him the confidence to approach major competitions, like the World Championships and the Olympics, feeling, “It’s just like any other competition.”

 

For Yuzuru, peaking is still very much in an experimental stage. While there are standard theories about peaking, they don’t apply to him. The period from adjustment to peak is very short for him, so if he gets a little motivated or pushes hard, the peak comes immediately.  Most skaters aim to peak in the latter half of the season, gradually building up, so they haven’t reached their peak by December. But for the past three years, Yuzuru has peaked early in the season in December, at the Grand Prix Final. Given his body and personality, he likely needs two to three peaks per year. This season, we need to test a method for peaking again after December.

 

Looking at Yuzuru’s pace over the past two years, it’s fine for his first peak to come at the Grand Prix Final. It’s also acceptable if his condition dips slightly at the All-Japan Championships at the end of December. However, expecting him to peak again for the World Championships in March has repeatedly resulted in him entering the competition without reaching full form. We’ve discussed peaking many times, and Yuzuru understands its importance. Yet he tends to want to meet others’ expectations, perform perfectly every time, and win every competition. When the Grand Prix Final approaches, he goes all out and then burns out. Even though he should have the ability and stamina to peak again in March, it hasn’t worked out that way.

 

One possible reason is the long gap between the All-Japan Championships in December and the World Championships in March. Javier has the European Championships at the end of January, and the U.S. and Canadian Championships are also in January. Yuzuru is the only one with a full three-month break in the middle of the season. This can dull his sense of competition and tension, and it may even make his body feel like it’s a different season, risking a drop in condition. That’s why this season, the Four Continents Championships in February is considered a crucial timing.

 

There’s another advantage to peaking in February. Last season, after Yuzuru delivered a perfect performance at the NHK Trophy, he also skated perfectly at the Grand Prix Final, which was just two weeks later. This shows that, for Yuzuru, a peak can be maintained over a short interval like that. From the Four Continents Championships to the World Championships is about a month, so this season will allow us to see how well he can maintain a peak over that longer interval. If he participates in the Olympic team event, the one-week gap before the individual competition will also provide a clue on whether it’s better to let the peak dip slightly or maintain it.

 

In this way, the February competition provides an opportunity to understand what kind of competition schedule allows Yuzuru to improve his condition or maintain his peak. After this season ends, I want to have a thorough discussion with him. He needs to fully understand his own peak timing and body, so that he can manage his condition strategically during the Olympic season.

 

 

 

5.10 Don’t be misled by the new era of quadruple jumps

 

Spoiler

The battle over quadruple jumps, which heated up last season, has advanced to an even higher level at a pace faster than anyone expected. Last season, 17-year-old Boyang Jin made history by landing four quadruple jumps in his free program, earning him the title of a prodigy of the new era. This season, 17-year-old Nathan Chen has pushed the limits further, attempting five quads in the free program. Other young skaters are also stepping up, taking on new types of quadruple jumps one after another.

 

In the short program, if you want to score around 110 points like Yuzuru, you need two quadruple jumps. No matter how many points you gain from GOE or PCS, a single quad simply isn’t enough to theoretically reach 110 points. That’s why the question of “what kind of quadruple jump technique is necessary” has evolved from the breakthroughs of the 2015–2016 season to the leaps seen in 2016–2017, and it may continue to shift even during the Olympic season. I have my own theory on competition strategy, but I also feel it’s important to watch trends closely and remain flexible in my thinking.

 

In this situation, we had to develop a “quad plan” for the two skaters for the 2016–2017 season. Yuzuru and Javier are beginning to take clearly different approaches, partly because Yuzuru is younger than Javier.

 

For Yuzuru, one thing is clear: three quadruple jumps in the free program are no longer enough. He already skated two perfect programs last season, and he’s ready to handle a more difficult quad layout. At 22, Yuzuru is still young and has room to grow. Remarkably, even after scoring over 330 points last season, Yuzuru is still in the process of evolving.

 

Looking ahead, the main focus is to skate the short program cleanly. For the short program, he’s in a position where he should aim for a flawless performance in every competition after the NHK Trophy. As for the free program, attempting four quadruple jumps is an extremely difficult and time-consuming challenge, and it’s not something that can be done perfectly multiple times.

 

Javier will be 26 in the second half of the season and will be nearly 27 by the time of the PyeongChang Olympics. What he needs is not to try new things, but to continue pursuing quality. Javier is well aware of his quadruple jump talent and understands what kind of scores he can earn when he executes his programs effectively. He developed his strategy after fully assessing both his abilities and the evaluations he has received. While Javier has landed quadruple loops in practice, including them in competition is not part of his strategy, and he has chosen not to use them.

 

As a result, the number of quadruple jumps remains the same as last season: two in the short program and three in the free program. Instead, he will focus on improving the quality of his jumps, increasing his success rate, and refining the overall performance and skating of his programs. Javier remains unwavering in this strategy. Until the Olympics, he will face a mentally challenging season, being chased by young skaters attempting numerous quads, but his focus will remain solely on his own programs.

 

In this way, Yuzuru and Javier are no longer in a position where they aim for the same number of jumps as last season. However, the “ticket to success” lies in the hands of each of them. That ticket is awarded only to those who perform outstanding programs.

 

In the current “new era of quadruple jumps,” many skaters are focused on simply performing as many quads as possible. However, this alone cannot be exchanged for a “ticket to success.” As long as a skater is obsessed with the number or types of quads, that ticket will remain out of reach. The young skaters who have begun including many quads often have long approaches, almost no transitions, and are completely focused on the jumps themselves. Their choreography is often far from impressive. Can such “mere jumps” really hold value? Sacrificing large GOE and PCS points to add just one new quad rarely increases the total score. In the end, no matter how much hype surrounds the “new era of quads,” simply adding more quads is not enough to win. Balance is essential for victory. Last season, skaters like Yuzuru and Javier earned 30 or 40 extra points simply because most of their GOEs were +3. And if their PCS scores are in the high 9s, they can create a 10–20 point gap over skaters scoring in the 8s.

 

For Yuzuru, who is introducing the quadruple loop, it is important not to be misled by the current “new era of quadruple jumps.” He didn’t add the quad loop just to gain attention by performing more quads. He has natural jumping talent and has been refining his programs for four to five years. Even so, Yuzuru has not yet reached the limits of his abilities, which is why he is adding the quad loop. He is a skater capable of landing four quads in the free program while also including plenty of transitions and maintaining beautiful skating technique.

 

Yuzuru received an invitation to the quadruple loop as an option for his “ticket to success.” But simply having that invitation isn’t enough to board the train to success. For Yuzuru, the fourth quad carries a different meaning than it does for other young skaters. By taking on the challenge of adding the quadruple loop, he is aiming to grow not only technically, but also mentally and personally. This intention comes through clearly both in his performances and during our meetings.

 

 

 

5.11 Can we help promising skaters evolve properly?

 

Spoiler

Catching the “quad craze” virus, which is like the flu, has consequences beyond the fact that you can’t win with quads alone. It also brings the risk of injury. In fact, many talented young quad jumpers have been sidelined by injuries since last season. Nathan, who attempts five quadruple jumps, injured his hip in January 2016, underwent surgery, and missed the second half of the season. Japan’s junior champion Sota Yamamoto also sat out the 2016–2017 season due to injury. Even 19-year-old Nicolas Nadeau from Canada, who placed second at last season’s World Junior Championships and had successfully landed a quadruple Lutz, was forced to withdraw after an injury in the summer of 2016.

 

There are two main causes of injury. The first is fatigue. When skaters are tired, their concentration drops, leading to awkward landings and twisted ankles. Even during takeoff, overexerting muscles can cause strains, hip pain, ligament damage, and other injuries. The second cause, especially for young skaters, is growth-related issues. During periods of rapid growth, skaters may experience growing pains, and their sense of timing and balance in jumps can easily be thrown off. Pushing skaters too hard during this stage can lead to unexpected joint or back pain, which in some cases can become a chronic issue that affects them throughout their skating careers.

 

That’s why it’s crucial for coaches to pay close attention to injuries. They need to observe a skater’s body and determine the right timing and training volume for practicing quadruple jumps. Younger skaters tend to overestimate their own abilities and push themselves too hard. Sometimes they even try to practice quads behind the coach’s or parents’ backs, but suffering a career-threatening injury in your teens is a complete game-changer. To prevent serious problems, coaches must step in and stop training as soon as a skater feels even a slight discomfort or mild pain.

 

In fact, Stephen Gogolev can already land a quadruple Salchow and a quadruple Lutz at just 11 years old. He is a gifted jumper with a very promising future, which makes it all the more important to ensure he avoids injury. If a child whose body is not yet fully developed attempts jumps beyond their capacity and gets hurt, it could destroy their future potential. Decisions about when to perform quadruple jumps, in which competitions, and how many must be made carefully and calmly. Skaters should not let themselves be swept up in the “quad craze” and practice quads every day without thought.

 

I’m not against practicing quadruple jumps. Hearing “five quads” is naturally exciting, and as a sport, we need young athletes who push the limits of their physical abilities. It’s good for the evolution of figure skating. What matters most is whether a skater is practicing quads appropriately for their own condition. A 26-year-old attempting a new quadruple jump risks injury that could force them to miss the PyeongChang Olympics. There’s simply no need for that.

 

On the other hand, since Nathan, Uno, and Jin are still young, it makes sense for them to start attempting new quadruple jumps early, allowing their bodies to get used to these difficult elements while they are still developing. Likewise, it’s a good strategy for the next generation of skaters, like Stephen, to practice quads in a systematic and planned way.

 

In any case, I will continue to monitor closely to ensure that no tragic quad-related injuries occur on my team. This may seem overly cautious, but I sincerely hope that promising skaters capable of practicing quads don’t get caught up in the quad craze and end up injured. Younger skaters, in particular, are often afraid to take breaks from training and may not speak up about pain. I hope that this intensifying “quad war” will contribute to the proper development of promising skaters and the growth of the sport, and that I, the athletes, fans, and everyone involved can continue to dedicate ourselves with passion, carefully and without mistakes.

 

 

 

5.12 Commentary

 

Spoiler

The 2016–2017 season kicked off while excitement over Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández surpassing 300 points was still running high. Targeting the milestones they had set, the ‘quad race’ intensified, with skaters competing to match their achievement and figure out exactly how many quads were needed to reach 300 points.

 

First, many skaters began increasing the number of quads in an attempt to catch up with and surpass Hanyu and Fernández’s lineup of ‘two quads in the short program, three in the free skate.’ Seventeen-year-old Nathan Chen from the U.S. surprised everyone by taking on the unprecedented challenge of ‘two in the short, five in the free.’ Eighteen-year-old Boyang Jin went for ‘two in the short, four in the free,’ and Shoma Uno matched Hanyu and Fernández with ‘two in the short, three in the free,’ sparking a fierce battle over the number of quads.

 

The competition over “new types” of quads also heated up. At the Challenge Cup held in April at the end of the 2015–2016 season, Uno successfully landed the first-ever quadruple flip in history. Inspired by this, Hanyu succeeded in the first-ever quadruple loop at the season opener in September 2016. Chen accomplished the remarkable feat of executing both the quadruple flip and quadruple Lutz. Even among junior skaters, some have been recognized for their quadruple loops, albeit with imperfect landings.

 

Looking back over nearly 30 years of quadruple jump history, the recent surge of new types was extraordinary. In 1988, Kurt Browning (Canada) landed the first quadruple toe loop, and in 1997, Timothy Goebel (USA) landed the first quadruple Salchow. After that, only one American ever succeeded in a quadruple Lutz, and for roughly 20 years, “quads” meant nothing beyond toe loops or Salchows. The rapid rise of these young skaters completely pushed the limits of human ability.

 

However, Orser did not unconditionally praise this “quad race.” His strategy remained completely consistent.

 

“Landing a lot of quads doesn’t automatically mean you’ll exceed 300 points. To go beyond 300, you have to accumulate positive grades for each element and earn high program component scores for the overall performance.”

 

In fact, none of the young skaters using new types of quads had surpassed 300 points—not even Hanyu. Frustrated, Orser had an in-depth discussion with Hanyu after Skate Canada. Orser told him, “Quads alone are not the key to victory; the total package is what matters.” Hanyu responded, “For me, the total package is only when my jumps are successful.” After a heated discussion, the two realized they were actually aiming for the same goal: “to land quads successfully while delivering a top-level overall performance.” The difference was only in their approach.

 

Convinced, Hanyu approached the NHK Trophy with a focus on his overall performance rather than obsessing over whether the quadruple loop would succeed. This shift became his path to 300 points. Scoring 103.89 in the short program and 197.58 in the free skate, he surpassed 300 points for the first time since introducing the quadruple loop.

 

“I was able to connect with the audience, feel the music together with them, and perform as one,” Hanyu said. After the competition, he smiled and added, “Until Skate Canada, I had been practicing the quadruple loop a lot, and it seemed Brian was a bit frustrated with that. After discussing it, the quality of my practice improved. It’s been five years since I came to Toronto. Brian and I are in sync, and our relationship has gradually become seamless.”

 

The following Grand Prix Final featured a lineup of young skaters from the new quadruple era. In the free skate, Chen successfully landed four quadruple jumps of three different types, while Uno landed three quadruple jumps of two different types. Once again, however, it was Orser’s strategy that guided Hanyu to victory. By showcasing the high quality of each element and maintaining cohesion across both the short and free programs, Hanyu earned a total score of 293.90, securing his fourth consecutive Grand Prix Final title. Fernández, despite mistakes that placed him fourth, earned PCS scores second only to Hanyu, demonstrating the strength of the total package strategy.

 

"After winning both Grand Prix events, I tried too many things in an effort to further improve my skills. I’ll make adjustments before the next competition," said Fernández, acknowledging his weaknesses as he moved into the second half of the season. Hanyu, meanwhile, declared, "I no longer think of the quadruple loop as a new jump. Even though I’ve increased the difficulty of my jumps from last season, my scores are still low. I want to raise my scores even more and become a Yuzuru Hanyu that no one can match. I’ll perfect it in the second half of the season." With these words, he concluded the first half of the season.

 

Young skaters of the new era clashed with their respective strengths. It was a year full of challenges and strategic battles, befitting the season before the Olympics.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Chapter 6 

The Olympics and Team Brian

 

 

 

6.1 Some Days Are Difficult

 

Spoiler

For me, this will be my third Olympic Games as a coach, and my fifth if I include my days as a competitor. At the PyeongChang Olympics, I'll be aiming for the fifth and sixth Olympic medal. It will surely be an incredible experience, a moment in which all the joy of my life in skating comes together.

 

But every time the Olympics draw near, I find myself thinking about the true purpose of skating. It’s an incredibly difficult question. There are athletes who make it to the Olympics, athletes who are eliminated in the selection process, and athletes who never reach that level at all. Yet all of them devote a part of their lives to skating. For those of us for whom aiming for an Olympic medal has become the norm, I think it’s very important to take a moment before the Games to remember our “beginner’s mindset.”

 

One thing we must never lose is the joy of skating, the great feeling it gives us. Even during difficult times, we must never forget that joy.

 

I became passionate about skating because I loved it. The sensation of gliding and the feeling of gaining speed were incredible. I loved the exhilaration of jumping and the comfort of dancing to music. But once you start competing under pressure, those feelings can fade. Your mind becomes consumed with whether your triple Axel is going well, whether your scores are higher or lower than before. Today’s athletes even worry about tiny details they can’t judge themselves, like under-rotations or whether their edges are correct. They forget that they love skating. And eventually, there comes a time when they start to hate it. That is the worst possible situation. During the Olympic season, it is especially important for me to care for the mental state of each athlete on my team, to make sure none of them ends up in that place.

 

During the 2016 off-season, there were many moments when Nam Nguyen felt that he hated skating. Competing against Yuzuru and Javier became his mission, and with everyone around him expecting the same, he lost sight of his own direction. All of his training became focused solely on the quadruple toe loop and quadruple Salchow. The playful Nam who used to imitate others and make everyone laugh had completely disappeared. When he attended classes to improve his skating skills, he would become frustrated that he couldn’t practice jumps. Even though Yuzuru and Javier, who trained alongside him, could land quads, Nam felt anxious, thinking that if he practiced skating with them without being able to jump well, he would never catch up.

 

Myself, other coaches, and even fellow skaters all tried saying different things to Nam, but he had come to dislike skating itself. As a result, his strengths disappeared, and his performance suffered. It was truly unfortunate. I hope that by the time he reaches his twenties, he can remember at least one thing he gained from our team and find the joy of skating again. I've seen Nam enjoy dancing his programs since he was a little child, and I want to see that again, more and more.

 

Even Yuzuru and Javier have difficult days. Yet they never lose their passion for skating. On days when things don’t go well and they feel discouraged, they retreat to their rooms to think things through. Yuzuru asks himself questions, searches for the causes of his feelings of frustration and irritation, and processes them properly. Javier accepts that there are some things in life that cannot be solved, and resets his mind by playing games. The next day, they return to the rink having grown from the experience.

 

Every skater in the world is going through the exact same experiences at this very moment. Gracie Gold, once the most highly anticipated U.S. women’s skater, faced setbacks during the 2016–2017 season. Ashley Wagner (USA) overcame her own period of struggles and worked her way back. Adam Rippon (USA) is still struggling, uncertain if he can emerge from a long tunnel. Japanese skaters Mao Asada and Shoma Uno have also experienced difficult seasons.

 

That's right, at this very moment, someone is experiencing setbacks. They're battling on the brink of hating skating. A true champion is someone who can overcome such hardships. When a problem arises, how do you solve it? How do you turn the situation around? With what attitude will you return to the rink to practice tomorrow? How do you bring closure to this problem? Even the top skaters repeatedly ask themselves these questions, and in the end, they return to their roots, realizing, “I really do love skating after all.” A true champion who can overcome setbacks is an athlete who finds solutions through their own self-reflection. Since no one is without worries, all you need to do is learn the trick: talk to yourself in this way to resolve them.

 

I often wonder how different the results might have been if, during my competitive years, I had known how to manage my mental state the way I do now. At the time, I wasn’t very wise, didn’t understand psychological strategies, and, like many teenagers and young adults, was always full of dissatisfaction, frustration, and anger. I was a perfectionist, the type who would get irritated if every day wasn’t perfect. Day after day, I practiced the triple Axel the same way, and whenever I made a mistake, I felt anxious and inferior. As a result, I sometimes came to dislike skating, and even the triple Axel itself. At times like that, there were plenty of tools to help me stay positive, like having a good conversation with myself, taking a break, or practicing something else. But I was still in my early twenties and had no way of knowing any of that.

 

That's why I don't want Yuzuru and Javier to get needlessly frustrated, let alone experience a moment when they hate skating. Over the past five or six years, we’ve built a solid system to support them. I’m here, and they also have another strong ally in our head coach, Tracy Wilson.

 

Tracy can talk with the two of them in a motherly way. She has three children around the same age as Yuzuru and Javier, so she can understand the kinds of worries typical for teenagers and the anxieties common in one’s early twenties. From a mother’s perspective, she listens attentively to everything they say, carefully taking in each word. In fact, they confide their worries in Tracy, not me. But I'm really glad about that.

 

I think I’m quite sharp at sensing when something is wrong. Simply asking, “Are you okay?” can serve as a signal to the skater. In response, the skater might say to me, “I’m okay, just a little more,” signaling that they want me to watch over them. But when emotions start to overflow, they turn to Tracy for more specific guidance.

 

On the other hand, I sometimes cry or get angry. Especially when I argue with Javier, he sometimes can’t take it anymore and starts crying, and I end up having an emotional outburst and crying as well. But I don’t see it as something to be embarrassed about. When a coach and athlete are fully committed to each other, this is bound to happen.

 

As far as his mental state is concerned, Yuzuru usually doesn’t need anyone else. He’s the type of person who can manage everything on his own as long as there’s at least one person he trusts. The only time he and I had a truly thorough discussion was after Skate Canada in 2016. For small, everyday concerns, he consults Tracy, and he never becomes emotional about them.

 

What makes me truly happy is seeing that these two have learned how to reflect on themselves and understand the patterns of their emotions during difficult times. Ultimately, the athletes themselves must become their own psychologists and take control of their mental states. As coaches, we act like parents, supporting them until they can stand on their own. Leading up to the Olympics, they will likely face a range of anxieties, joys, and frustrations. But no matter what happens, they will be fine as long as they return to their original love of skating. As their coach, I want to share in that original passion and move forward alongside them.

 

 

 

6.2 10 skaters at the Olympics?

 

Spoiler

For Team Brian, what makes this upcoming Olympics different from the Vancouver and Sochi Games is that there are several skaters preparing for the Olympics. Yuzuru and Javier are, of course, medal contenders, but in addition, there are several young skaters who could make it to the Olympics and potentially perform very well. Naturally, the excitement and tension of the pre-Olympic season spreads throughout the entire Cricket Club.

 

Elizabet Tursynbaeva will finally be competing at the senior level starting with the 2016–2017 season. She is the undisputed top female skater in Kazakhstan, and if she secures a spot, she will undoubtedly be selected for the national team and compete in the Olympics. Though petite, she is hardworking and ambitious. For her short program, she has chosen “I Got Rhythm,” the same as last season. She struggled with it previously, but once she masters it, it will become an even more striking program. The music is interesting, upbeat, fun, but also very difficult. It is perfect for Elizabet’s growth. While she enjoys skating to slow, beautiful music, she is still too young to captivate audiences with it. Instead, it was decided that she should continue with up-tempo music to expand her range. Although she is still facing challenges, she is sure to demonstrate significant growth by the Olympic season.

 

Cha Jun-hwan from South Korea is also at the top of the junior ranks for the 2016–2017 season. He thrilled everyone at the Junior Grand Prix by landing a quadruple salchow. He’ll make his senior debut during the PyeongChang Olympics and is expected to perform well in front of a home crowd. I also have two of Canada’s top three female skaters on my team: Gabrielle Daleman and Alaine Chartrand. They, too, are competing for a spot at the Olympics.

 

In pairs, there are Liubov Ilyushechkina and Dylan Moscovitch from Canada. They are medal contenders and consistently deliver powerful jumps.

 

In short, it’s an amazing team. With around ten skaters having a chance to go to the Olympics, it’s a joyful kind of chaos. Including the coaches, the team would be about 15–16 people. At Vancouver, it was just Yuna and me. This time it’s a big team. I’m already looking forward to being able to bring our team community, the “Cricket Village” itself, into the PyeongChang Olympic venue.

 

 

 

6.3 All 24 skaters in the free skate will do a quadruple jump

 

Spoiler

The history of the quadruple jump in the Olympics has always been part of a turbulent era.

 

At Vancouver, a skater who did not attempt a quadruple jump won the gold medal. Silver medalist Evgeni Plushenko did land a quadruple, but the gold medalist, Evan Lysacek (USA), did not. Bronze medalist Daisuke Takahashi attempted only one toe loop and made a mistake. It was that kind of competition.

 

At Sochi, there were only two types of quads: the toe loop and the Salchow. However, only a few skaters, like Javier Fernández and Yuzuru Hanyu, attempted both. Even silver medalist Patrick Chan and bronze medalist Denis Ten attempted only the toe loop.

 

I think every skater heading into PyeongChang will attempt at least one quadruple jump. All 24 men who advance to the free skate will go for it—and they’ll probably do it with ease. It would be fascinating to compare historical score sheets. If you plotted the number of quadruple jump attempts and successful landings over the past ten years on a line graph, you could really see how intense the current quad-jump craze has become. The trend is undoubtedly skyrocketing. At Vancouver, the only memorable successful quad was Plushenko’s. By Sochi, 14 skaters attempted a quad in the free skate, and nine of them landed at least one. By PyeongChang, all 24 skaters are expected to land at least one, which would make for a very interesting graph.

 

Women’s singles haven’t progressed much. Only Elizaveta Tuktamysheva (Russia) and Mao Asada are landing triple Axels, and although some Japanese junior skaters have begun attempting them, that’s about it. No one predicted that, at the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, three or four women would be consistently landing triple Axels. In contrast, the level of men’s skating has risen beyond anyone’s expectations. Looking at skating history over the past few decades, it’s clear this is a turbulent era. It’s not just that the number of quadruple jumps has increased, but new types like the Lutz, Flip, and Loop have all been added almost simultaneously too.

 

Women’s singles have not progressed much. Only Elizaveta Tuktamysheva (Russia) and Mao Asada attempt the triple Axel. Japanese juniors have begun attempting it, but that is all. No one predicted that, in the 2018 PyeongChang Olympics, three to four female skaters would be frequently landing triple Axels. In other words, men’s skating has reached a level beyond anyone’s prediction. Even looking at decades of skating history, this is a turbulent era. Not only have the numbers of quadruple jumps increased, but new types—Lutz, Flip, and Loop—have all been added at once.

 

The day we finally see a quadruple Axel (4.5 rotations) may be approaching. It is unclear who will be the first to land it. At present, Yuzuru Hanyu is likely the world’s best at the triple Axel. However, considering the risk of injury and the upcoming Olympic season, attempting it now is not realistic. It will probably take some time before the next generation, skaters like Stephen, can achieve it. In any case, this is an exciting era for quadruple jumps. I don’t think this trend will end with the PyeongChang Olympics, rather, the evolution is likely to continue for several more years.

 

 

 

6.4 Choosing music for the Olympics in South Korea

 

Spoiler

When it comes to the Olympics, I don’t focus on the host country’s culture as much as I do at the World Championships. The Olympics are a global event, after all. Skaters perform within the framework of what I call “Olympic culture” or the “Olympic community,” rather than the culture of the host nation. Spectators, judges, and athletes all experience this unique Olympic atmosphere while in the host city. It is neither Russian culture, nor Canadian culture, nor Korean culture. That has always been the feeling at the Olympics, from my experience as both an athlete and a coach.

 

The host city is completely immersed in the Olympic spirit, transforming into an extraordinary space. Every shop in town runs Olympic campaigns, and Olympic merchandise is everywhere. Turn on the TV, and you’ll find special Olympic programs. The Athletes’ Village, the facilities for officials, and the area around the Olympic Stadium are, naturally, all fully Olympic-themed. The unique culture of the city or country fades into the background. That’s why I don’t think it’s necessary to choose a program that conforms to the host country’s culture. After experiencing the Olympics many times, this is what I believe. South Korea has absorbed a lot of Western culture, so no matter what style of program is performed, the audience will appreciate it. Thanks to Yuna Kim’s success, the public’s understanding of figure skating has deepened even further.

 

The World Championships, by contrast, are different. Competitions take place over just a few days within the everyday life of the host city. Most of the audience is local, going about their daily routines and only coming to the venue for the events. That’s why Javier skated to Frank Sinatra at the 2016 World Championships in Boston. By researching the host country’s culture such as its music, dance, and traditions, athletes can develop a strategic approach.

 

If there were ever a case to consider Korean culture in choosing a program, it would be for Cha Jun-hwan. He moved up to the senior level during the Olympic season and is likely to attract attention in South Korea as one of the few domestic figure skaters. To symbolize the significance of representing the Olympic host country, there is certainly a way to select music that incorporates Korean style and atmosphere.

 

When I choose music, my main focus is always on what kind of performance will make the skater shine the most. Javier and Yuzuru are so exceptional that they have countless options. Some skaters can only perform to a certain type of music, but Javier and Yuzuru can master anything: fast pieces, slow pieces, blues, jazz, classical, and more. Yuzuru scored over 100 points in the short program with both Chopin’s "Ballade No. 1" and a rock piece by Prince. Javier became a world champion in the free skate performing both the opera "The Barber of Seville" and Frank Sinatra.

 

What’s more, because they are leaders in the figure skating world, whatever they feel passionate about becomes the best program for them. It doesn’t matter what other skaters are doing or what’s trendy this year. There’s no need to focus on improving certain strengths or fixing weaknesses. They should simply choose the program that ignites their passion the most. Reaching this point took four to five years, but now they are fully prepared to select their music for the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

 

 

6.5 To perform at their best in the actual competition

 

Spoiler

Both Yuzuru and Javier are progressing exactly as planned. As long as they continue to follow faithfully what they’ve been working on over the past four to five years, they will naturally evolve and improve all the way up to the Olympics.

 

So, what more needs to be done to prepare for the Olympics? My role is to raise their awareness and understanding of mental training. The Olympic season brings a level of disruption that can easily unsettle even the most composed athlete. On the train to the rink, Olympic symbols are everywhere. At a café, the person at the next table is talking about the Games. Even if Javier is relaxing at home playing PlayStation, something might suddenly remind him of the Olympics. And when Yuzuru lies in bed on a sleepless night, he’s likely practicing mental training for the upcoming competition.

 

So they need to find their own way to stay calm during their downtime. Whether it’s breathing exercises, yoga-like routines, or meditation, they need to discover a method that works for them. Ideally, I also need to explain to them a solid, scientific approach to mental control that they can use whenever needed.

 

Many athletes who don’t understand mental training tend to convince themselves this way:

 

"The Olympics don’t matter. It’s just like any other season. I don’t have to worry about anything."

 

That’s not the case. We have to accept that the Olympic season is special. No matter how much we try to convince ourselves that it’s business as usual, the Olympics are different. If we spend our time avoiding reality, we may suddenly feel anxious just before the competition or tense once we step onto the ice. Heading into the Olympics, hiding in the shadows is a losing strategy. It’s crucial to face things head-on. I want Yuzuru and Javier to enter the Olympic venues feeling excited, eager to skate well, and fully prepared.

 

One method of mental control in competition is the "routine." This is less about mindset and more a highly strategic approach. A routine is a set pattern of actions that athletes establish to help them perform at their usual level and maintain composure. It’s used in a wide range of sports, and in fact, top athletes going into a competition without a plan are the exception rather than the rule.

 

During my competitive career, I received guidance from a sports psychologist and learned many things. The concept of a routine existed even back then. Even if an athlete peaks perfectly and feels great from the morning of competition day, they won’t perform at their full potential if they become tense just before the event. That’s why, in addition to aiming to peak on the day of the competition, routines are used to ensure that they can perform at their best at the moment of the actual competition.

 

All actions must be carried out just as they would be in a normal practice or competition: "What time did I go to bed last night, and what time did I wake up this morning? What kind of practice did I do this morning? After morning practice, should I rest or take a shower? What will I do just before entering the venue? What time will I arrive? How many hours before the competition should I eat, and what will I eat? If I skate in a certain starting order, what should I do? When and how will I do my off-ice warm-up?"

 

All of these actions are recorded for each competition, along with the results of how they went. From this, I identify the patterns that allow the athlete to perform at their best and decide, for each item, "This will be part of the routine." They wake up at the same time, eat at the same time, follow the same warm-up, and do the same practice. Because the meals provided at each venue can differ, they sometimes prepare their own food.

 

In Yuzuru’s case at the 2016 World Championships, he had a carefully planned routine. However, unexpected events, such as missing the bus or being unable to start warm-up at the scheduled time, disrupted his routine. As a result, he wasn’t able to perform at his full potential in the free skate. Looking ahead to the Olympics, I want to emphasize to Yuzuru even more the importance of maintaining his routine.

 

Furthermore, to establish an even stronger routine, our team conducts full competition simulations before major events like the World Championships or the Olympics. About ten days before the 2016 World Championships, all the athletes participating in the event, except Yuzuru, took part in the simulation. We rented a rink in the suburbs of Toronto, invited local judges, and arranged for a professional announcer, with replays of the performances shown on a large screen. The skaters drew lots to determine their starting order, and we invited 200–300 local children as spectators. It was a simulation almost identical to the real competition. For smaller competitions, we sometimes hold medium-scale simulations at the Cricket Club. Even then, judges and announcers are present, and parents watch from the lounge.

 

After the performance, we get feedback from the judges. They may offer slightly critical comments, such as, "Please redo the step sequence" or "Show me the spin again," which we use to make final adjustments. Even spins that were crafted at Level 4 at the start of the season can, over daily practice, be performed less carefully without realizing it, resulting in insufficient rotations and a Level 3 execution.

 

 

The simulation for the 2016 World Championships took place in a positive atmosphere. Javier delivered a truly outstanding performance, boosting his confidence. Athletes who didn’t perform as well looked for the reasons. For example, "I put my skates on too early and got nervous while waiting," or "The applause for the skater before me broke my concentration." Even they learned something from the experience. They then headed into the competition reassured that the routines they had spent a year or several years perfecting were correct. A similar approach will likely be used before the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

 

 

6.6 Life continues even after retiring from competition

 

Spoiler

Skating fans might think that I only coach top athletes like Yuzuru and Javier. But that’s not the case. In the early morning classes at the Cricket Club, I teach elementary school kids still wearing their helmets, and in the morning sessions, I give lessons to ladies who love skating. At the Cricket Club, people of all ages and backgrounds gather, united by their love of skating, and I coach anyone who wants to learn. As coaches, we want even the best skaters to continue skating while maintaining their joy, competitive spirit, positive attitude, and willingness to support each other.

 

As I’ve said many times before, the ultimate goal of Team Brian is to equip our athletes with tools that will help them in life after they leave here.

 

Just recently, a girl from Russia who had been training with my team for five years asked me to write a letter of recommendation for her university application. I was very happy. I wrote about how hard she had worked, how dedicated she was at the club, and how she possessed the qualities needed to succeed in university. It’s wonderful to see how discovering skating and committing to it can open doors to the next stage of life. Christina Gao (USA) also asked me for a recommendation, and she went on to enroll at Harvard University in the fall of 2012. In June 2015, she retired from skating to focus fully on her studies. I am very proud of her.

 

Life continues for our athletes even after they leave the Cricket Club. My hope is that the experiences they gain here will serve them well throughout their lives. While many athletes retire from competition by their mid-twenties, life beyond that goes on for much longer. No matter what career path they choose or whether they start a family, everything we have taught them here will continue to influence their lives.

 

 

I hope that one day, when my students face challenges at work, they’ll remember, “Back then, Brian gave me this advice and helped me solve it that way.” When they struggle with relationships, they might think, “Brian did this, Tracy did that, and the other coaches played these roles. Even though each of them was different, they respected and supported one another.” And when they are raising children, they might recall, “Back then, Tracy was like a mother figure, and Brian was like a father figure.” I hope that at the various milestones in their lives, they will think of us, even just a little.

 

 

I feel that I can maintain a strong, lasting relationship with both Yuzuru and Javier. They have completely different personalities and have followed very different paths. Including the Olympic years, we shared the most intense and memorable six to seven years of our lives together.

 

I’m confident that Javier will become an excellent teacher after retiring following the PyeongChang Olympics. I expect he’ll be busy for a few years afterward, performing in various shows, but he has the personality and passion to become a great coach, so I want to stay in close contact with him. He loves teaching and is passionate about it. Early mornings aren’t his thing, though… he’ll probably end up teaching in the afternoons.

 

Yuzuru may continue his university studies. He has such a wide range of talents that he could succeed in any field. He has mastered languages and could excel in medicine, education, or any other area. This is because Yuzuru knows how to set goals, work hard, and maintain the drive to achieve them. Beyond academics, he could also become a great mentor for Japanese skaters. Rather than simply teaching individual students, he could use his experience and dedication to guide the next generation, helping young Japanese skaters reach the top levels in the world.

 

In any case, what gives me the greatest reassurance is knowing that both of them are likely to lead successful lives as adults, both financially and socially. It’s the same kind of hope a parent has for their child. My role is to help prepare them so that skating equips them to move forward in life.

 

 

 

6.7 We are ahead of our time

 

Spoiler

“Team Brian,” with Yuzuru and Javier, has now rounded the final corner. While it’s tempting to look back on the wonderful days they’ve shared so far, the real action is still ahead. I can hardly wait to see how these two will continue to evolve as they move toward the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

We have made our mark on the history of skating. We established the 300-point milestone. In women’s singles, 200 points had long been the benchmark. Yuna was the first to break that barrier, and after that, it became a wall everyone wanted to surpass, a target for the top skaters. Today, talented young skaters like Evgenia Medvedeva (Russia) routinely exceed 200 points, and it has become a standard indicator for top performance. But until Yuna broke through, it was thought to be an unbreakable barrier. The same holds true for men’s singles. Yuzuru broke the 300-point barrier, followed by Javier Fernández. In the future, there may be others besides Yuzuru and Javier who achieve this. And I'm sure these two will likely surpass 300 points many more times going forward.

 

I, too, once set a milestone with the triple Axel. At the time, it was the most difficult element, but today it has become a jump that all top skaters perform.

 

So, what will be the next milestone? This is currently the hottest topic in the figure skating world. If it occurs within the next few years, it will likely be at the PyeongChang Olympics. It could happen when either Yuzuru or Javier wins. But we no longer need to obsess over milestones like 300 or 330 points, nor do we need to aim for 350. It is enough that each of them has their own milestone in their hearts.

 

After the PyeongChang Olympics, the GOE scale will change to ±5. That means a performance like Yuzuru’s 330+ point program could score around 350 under the new system. This change was largely sparked by Yuzuru and Javier. Yuzuru’s quadruple Salchow at the 2015 Grand Prix Final was already the pinnacle at the time, and Javier’s Salchow at the 2016 World Championships was just as remarkable. Yet under the old system, a “pretty good jump” earned only +2, and a “great jump” earned +3. The new system was designed to properly recognize truly outstanding elements, expanding the GOE range to ±5. In this way, Yuzuru and Javier helped push the sport forward. With the scoring changes after PyeongChang, the meaning of the 300-point mark will likely shift as well.

 

I believe that figure skating is constantly evolving. You can see the same pattern in any sport. Records are set at one Olympics, and by the next, those records are outdated, replaced by new ones. As long as athletes continue to push the limits of human ability, sports will keep evolving. This is true for all sports whether it’s swimming, sprinting, or the high jump.

 

Figure skating is no different. At the PyeongChang Olympics, we can expect to see many quadruple jumps. At the same time, the artistry of the sport will continue to evolve. As the technical bar rises, figure skating as a discipline advances. Artistically, incredible performances will emerge, and the entertainment value of the sport will be pushed even further. Figure skating is being elevated to a whole new level. That’s why Yuzuru and Javier don’t need to focus on numbers like 300 or 330 points.

 

Perhaps the next milestone will be set by the next generation. For example, Stephen Gogolev will be old enough to compete at the 2022 Beijing Olympics, six years after the 300-point milestone was first achieved. What will men’s singles look like by then? He has the ability to perform five different types of quadruple jumps, which could become a new milestone. To prepare him for that, he will need to spend six years developing into a skater with excellent technique, building a strong foundation, and strengthening his body.

 

I am not retiring as a coach alongside Yuzuru and Javier, so I still need to continue evolving as a coach. I certainly haven’t reached this point on my own, and I’ve absorbed everything I could from coaches in other sports and leaders in the business world.

 

There was once an NBA coach named Phil Jackson (now president of the New York Knicks). He is a legendary coach who led his team to 11 national championships. In his book Eleven Rings: The Soul of Success, he shares strategies on coaching, many of which resonated deeply with me and brought me great enjoyment. In addition, I have read numerous books by sports psychologist Peter Jensen and continue to revisit them. Leadership books in business management have also been useful.

 

The important thing is that I learn something every day. The moment I stop learning is the moment I stop being a coach. As a coach and a leader, I have constantly checked that I stay on course while developing new strategies.

 

There is an English expression: “Stay ahead of the curve.” And that is exactly what we do. We are ahead of our time. We do not follow figure skating trends after they appear; we create new trends. The direction we take becomes the direction skating aspires to follow. This is both the greatest joy and the greatest responsibility for those who set milestones.

 

I am truly blessed to be a coach. As an athlete, I experienced both joy and pain, earning two Olympic silver medals. I shared four years with Yuna, growing as a person in pursuit of victory, and had the privilege of witnessing her win gold at the Vancouver Olympics. With Yuzuru and Javier, I have gained a way of life that "stays ahead of the curve." Having spent my life in the world of figure skating, thanks to them I have been able to paint a picture of what figure skating truly is and share it with everyone. I feel liberated. It is not about imitating, competing against, or enduring anything. Through my daily journey alongside them, I have finally acquired the tools for life.

 

Yuzuru and Javier. With heartfelt gratitude toward both of them, we move forward toward the PyeongChang Olympics.

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Final Chapter: Brian Orser & Javier Fernández

A Conversation Between Coach And Student

 

Thanks to the remarkable performances of Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernandez, Team Brian is considered the world's strongest tag team. Coach Orser and back-to-back world champion Fernandez spoke about their journey to surpassing 300 points and the team’s strength just before the start of the 2016 Grand Prix Series.

 

Spoiler

"I knew that if I let him practice according to the plan, he would succeed"

 

— First of all, congratulations to Fernández on surpassing 300 points. Your progress keeps going strong.

 

Javier Fernández: Your progress keeps going strong. But I feel like I just kept practicing alongside Yuzu, and before I knew it, I had evolved.

 

Brian Orser: Four or five years of consistent proper training has finally come to fruition. I'm so proud of Yuzu and Javi.

 

— Let’s start by talking about when Fernández joined the team.

 

Orser: Javi came to my team in the summer of 2011. He was only 20 and still had a bit of a childish side. It was the perfect time for him to transition from boyhood to young man and learn new things in a planned way.

 

Fernández: My first impression was simply that it was a really well-organized team. On the ice and off, everything was carefully planned and prepared.

 

Orser: Actually, my first impression of Javi was that he wasn't very organized and was a bit careless. I had seen him at international competitions before. Conversely, I knew that if I let him practice according to plan, he would succeed. So from the beginning, I had a good impression of him. I could see he had a lot of potential.

 

Fernández: Brian and Tracy Wilson would call me almost every day, asking, “Here’s the schedule. Which competitions will you enter? When will you work on your programs?” That had never happened before I came here.

 

Orser: Right. The first task was to fix Javi’s careless habits. From the day he arrived, I said, “Now we’re going to meet choreographer David to discuss the music and ideas.” And I made him think for himself about what style he wanted to aim for and what programs he wanted to skate. I wanted him to take responsibility for himself. But since he was only 20, handling everything on his own would have been too much, so we took care of things outside of practice. I even drove to pick him up if he overslept.

 

Fernández: Yes… that’s right.

 

Orser: In the early days, he was so careless that I even called the Spanish skating federation. And they’d say, “Ah, it’s Javi. He’s Spanish, you know.” I just laughed. Of course, that was almost six years ago. Javi now is very different.

 

— What was your initial goal when you joined Team Brian?

 

Fernández: When I came to Toronto, I wasn’t even in the top 15 men yet. It was a completely different world from competing at the top. I came here to improve my life as a whole because back then, I was living quite a careless lifestyle.

 

Orser: Javi needed a transformation. So for the first few months, I took a strict approach to his training. Whenever his hidden potential showed, I tried to bring it out. But he didn’t immediately understand the practice methods, so for the first few months we often clashed and yelled at each other.

 

Fernández: My training methods changed completely from before. I remember when I first arrived, Brian and Tracy asked me, “How often do you usually do run-throughs?” They meant how many times a week I skated my programs from start to finish with the music. I answered, “Probably two or three times a year.”

 

Orser: And Javi even asked, “Does that include competitions?” (laughs)

 

Fernández: Then they said, “Well, yes… I guess so.” From then on, I started doing two to three run-throughs of my free program per week. That was a major change.

 

Orser: At first, his run-throughs were terrible. By the end, Javi was completely exhausted, and all the coaches and skaters had to shout encouragement during practice: “Hang in there, Javi! Just a little more!” But completing a full run-through builds confidence and stamina.

 

Fernández: Do you know how I felt during competitions when I hadn't done any run-throughs at all? I was always anxious, wondering if I'd really be able to skate through to the end.

 

Orser: Back in my competitive days, whenever my music started, I would always regret not doing more run-throughs. So if you go through the hard work now, you will thank yourself during the actual competition.

 

Fernández: This was the first time in my life that I truly started practicing properly. If you have people around you to guide you, you gradually improve, and at some point, you realize, “Wow! I’ve progressed as if I were a completely different person.” I learned that here.

 

Plushenko’s words

 

— You won the silver medal at Skate Canada, your first Grand Prix competition of the 2011-2012 season.

 

Fernández: I couldn’t believe it at the time. I was skating in the same competition as Patrick Chan, and I was first after the short program. Patrick was invincible at the time, and it was thought that no one could beat him. Maybe that day wasn’t even his best performance ever. I remember thinking, “Wow, I actually beat Patrick in the short program! Really?” And when I won a medal overall, I felt like I had become a world champion. I had never even imagined standing on a Grand Prix podium. I was just skating and practicing. And the moment I stood on the podium and looked around, I thought, “Oh my God, what an amazing sight.” It left a strong, lasting impression.

 

Orser: It was the first time a Spanish skater had won a medal at an ISU event. The Spanish skating federation and the judges were in tears of joy. It was an emotional moment, and a major turning point. But I remember when Kim Yuna brought South Korea's first Olympic gold medal. Being from Spain didn’t make me think Javi couldn’t win. It's great to be a pioneer. I think Javi learned from that Skate Canada silver that “winning a medal isn’t impossible.” Smart, focused training brings results. That year, he went on to place third at the Grand Prix Final. He realized, “Ah, it’s not that difficult after all.”

 

— It was a year of rapid growth. What allowed you to push so hard?

 

Fernández: I just felt comfortable here. I was blessed with a great coach, and I improved quickly. I loved the team and the environment. And Canadians are so open and welcoming. Even though I'm from another country, they treated me like one of their own.

 

Orser: Javi came here all alone, from faraway Spain, speaking a different language and away from his family. But Team Brian and the Cricket Club have a real sense of community. Coaches, parents, staff, casual skaters, and competitive skaters all train and live together in this community. That’s the strength of my team.

 

— Yuzuru Hanyu joined the team in 2012. How did you feel about having a rival in the same team?

 

Fernández: At the time, I already knew Yuzu from competitions, and when Brian told me about it, I said, "That's amazing."

 

Orser: I first checked with Javi. I wanted to make sure he was OK with Yuzu coming. Javi and I had already trained together for a year, and we had built a trust where we could say anything to each other.

 

Fernández: Even after Yuzu joined, I was happy with my own training methods, so I didn’t change the way I skated. Of course, watching Yuzu do tough training and land difficult jumps was motivating, and I could learn a lot just by observing him.

 

Orser: Yuzu’s arrival was positive for both of their motivation. Because of each other, they became even better skaters. It’s the same with me and Brian Boitano in my competitive days. His presence pushed me to grow.

 

— You and Boitano competed at the top level too. But Yuzu and Javi are also teammates. Is there a difference?

 

Fernández: Last year (2015), Evgeni Plushenko told me, “By competing against each other, you two are advancing figure skating. Because of you, other skaters have to push themselves even further.” It was a huge honor. In the past, teams like Tessa & Scott (Canada) and Meryl & Charlie (USA) advanced ice dance through intense rivalries. It’s rivalries like these that gradually push the sport forward.

 

Orser: It probably works well because Javi and Yuzu are completely different types of skaters. There’s nothing for either of them to copy, so there are no secrets between them. That’s likely why they can train together for so long. It would be different with someone like Kim Yuna and Mao Asada. They’re very similar skaters, so constantly seeing each other could be mentally challenging. But Yuna and Carolina Kostner (Italy) might have worked well together because their skating styles and habits are so different. That’s the idea.

 

How to turn the cheers of the crowd into energy

 

—What were your goals leading up to the Sochi Olympics?

 

Fernandez: My main goal was to reach the podium, but at that time I wasn’t a world champion. I had only placed third at the World Championships before, so my feeling was more like, “I’d like to get on the podium at the Olympics if possible.”

 

Orser: He had placed third at the World Championships the year before Sochi, so realistically, winning a medal was possible. However, he made some unfortunate mistakes at the Olympics. Even though his performance was good enough for a bronze medal, he ended up in fourth place.

 

Fernandez: What changed most for me after Sochi was my personal mindset. Of course, I didn’t achieve my big goal in Sochi, but I became convinced that this experience will help me grow even more. So, right after Sochi, I wanted to return to training for the World Championships, even though I was still tired from the Olympics. I wanted to practice with Brian and Yuzu. That was something I had never felt before.

 

Orser: At the 2014 World Championships, Yuzu was first, Tatsuki Machida was second, and Javi was third, but the scores were very close. I think that’s when Javi realized once again he was one of the top three skaters in the world. Even so, I was worried during the off-season, wondering if he might lose all his confidence. But he came back to Toronto at the end of summer, still determined. I was very happy. I think if there was ever a turning point for Javi, it was then.

 

Fernandez: I learned a lot from the Olympics. My performance wasn’t perfect, and I made some silly mistakes. But it wasn’t a negative experience. Because I didn’t achieve my dream of the podium, I was able to push through tough training afterward and grow further as a skater.

 

—The following season, the 2014 Grand Prix Final was held in your home country, Spain.

 

Fernandez: I was really nervous at the time. Most skaters perform in front of their home crowd every year, but I wasn’t used to that. On top of that, the rink was small, so the audience felt very close, and their cheers were overwhelming. I didn’t know how to channel all that energy and ended up overdoing it. Using that energy effectively is different for every competition, which makes it tricky.

 

Orser: I know exactly what it feels like to compete at home. That’s why I told Javi before the Grand Prix Final, “The crowd will be cheering and calling your name, almost like you’re in first place. You need to find a way to turn that energy into your own strength.” After that, his knees were shaking a little.

 

Fernandez: I fell on my first jump, and I was fifth after the short program.

 

Orser: He couldn’t control himself well at first. The truth is, the only way to learn how to handle a home-country competition is to actually experience it. He didn’t manage the short program perfectly, but after a day off, he was ready for the free skate.

 

Fernandez: For the free skate, I just wanted to give the Spanish audience a great performance. Spanish spectators aren’t very used to watching figure skating, so I wanted to show them that it’s a beautiful sport, very competitive, and exciting to watch. Yuzu also delighted the audience with a top-notch performance, and I thought it was amazing.

 

Orser: It turned out to be a wonderful competition for the Spanish audience. It was also the first international competition in Spain, so organizing it was a big task for the Spanish Skating Federation. But the venue, hotels, event management, and ice conditions were all excellent. It was a great success for Spain as a country.

 

Fernandez: It’s something I’m proud of. Spain is a really wonderful country, with many regions, each with its own character. Barcelona is a big city, with beaches, amazing architecture, and great art. Madrid has its own architecture, delicious food, and fun people. Seville has a completely different kind of beautiful scenery.

 

Orser: I agree. It's a country with wonderful people, a long history, and where you can enjoy good food and wine. I'd like to go again.

 

The meaning of surpassing 300 points

 

―In the 2015 World Championships, you became a world champion for the first time.

 

Fernández: Yes, there’s no doubt it was a huge step forward. That year, I said, “I want to stand on the World Championship podium again.” I’m not the type to set very high goals. But then I ended up winning the gold medal at the 2015 World Championships. It was a surprise. I was just practicing pretty much the same as usual, with the intention of standing on the podium, but somehow I had evolved without realizing it.

 

Orser: My job is to train the skaters. I plan their practices, develop them, and help them perform their best in competitions. We do our best to provide the best program, practice, costumes, and music possible.

 

Fernández: Honestly, I never thought, “I want to be a world champion.” There had never been a figure skating world champion from Spain before. I knew I had some talent and that I could improve, but… to be honest, I didn’t like thinking, “I’m going to be the next world champion!” In fact, I thought the opposite: "I'll never become world champion."

 

Orser: That’s true. When Javier first won the World Championships, he wasn’t thinking, “I absolutely must win this championship.” He simply practiced according to a plan, and as a result, he became world champion. But it wasn’t luck; it was a title he earned through his own effort.

 

―You entered the 2015–2016 season as the reigning world champion. Did you notice any differences compared to before?

 

Orser: Javi wore his title of world champion like a well-tailored suit. He had become someone worthy of wearing it. He trained and performed with the mindset of a world champion, achieving good results in both the Grand Prix series and the European Championships. Javier didn’t aim to win every competition; instead, he aimed to approach everything with wisdom.

 

Fernández: That’s right. Usually, I think like this and feel the pressure: “Everyone is supporting me, so I have to defend my title.” But once the competition starts, I can just think, “I just want to perform well.”

 

Orser: Coaches are the same. During a performance, I don’t focus on winning. Once the program begins, everything is in the skater’s hands, and the judges decide the scores. It depends on the athlete, but some skaters perform better when they think, “I'm definitely going to win,” while others, like Javi, achieve their goals when they think, "I want to perform well." It really varies by skater. Yuzu is probably the type who is motivated by winning.

 

Fernández: In that sense, Yuzu’s performance at the Grand Prix Final was truly amazing. Scoring 330 points was incredible, and of course, he deserved to win. But when I skated at the World Championships, I competed under tremendous expectations from everyone. That was a different, more difficult experience than in 2015. I experienced for the first time what it’s like to be chased rather than chasing. Yuzu has consistently overcome that position, and I realized once again that there’s a lot to learn from him mentally.

 

―How did you feel about scoring over 300 points at the World Championships?

 

Fernández: A score is just a score. That said, there’s no doubt that Yuzu set a new standard by aiming for “100 points in the short program and 200 in the free skate.” So for me, exceeding 300 points was exciting because it meant I had evolved, and the judges recognized that. But even if no one else surpasses 300 points at the next World Championships, or even if several people do, I wouldn't be concerned about the scores.

 

Orser: Exactly, a score is just a number. But I’m proud that Yuzuru has set a standard for what a truly great performance looks like. Waiting for the scores after both of their performances, with that standard in mind, is really exciting. It’s an honor, because Yuzu and Javi are the only two people in the world who are held to that standard. But we must not forget in practice that scores are just numbers; what truly matters is the performance itself.

 

The Value of an Olympic medal

 

—What are your plans looking ahead to the 2016–2017 pre-Olympic season?

 

Fernández: Even if I don’t manage to win a third consecutive title at the next World Championships, it shouldn’t affect the Olympic season. Of course, I’m aiming for a third consecutive title and I’ll work hard toward it, but I’ve already won back-to-back championships, so the number of titles isn’t what matters. I want to go in with a “nothing to lose” attitude, take a chance and give it everything I’ve got.

 

—The PyeongChang Olympic season will be when you are 26–27 years old. What kind of strategy are you considering?

 

Fernández: I think the most important thing is to keep myself in good condition and stick to my usual routine. Of course, at 26 my body isn’t the same as it was four years ago, so I’ll make sure to manage my body well and do proper mental training. My skills are much better than they were four years ago.

 

Orser: Actually, Javi is the same age I was when I competed in the Olympics. The first time, at 22, I won a silver medal. The second time, at 26, I won silver again, but I felt stronger the second time. At 26, it’s all about mindset. You’re not too old at all.

 

Fernández: I think it’s just the right time for me.

 

Orser: Orser: Yes. In fact, Javi has become better at training as he gets older, and at 26, I think the benefits of his experience outweigh any physical decline. In track sprinting, Usain Bolt was 29 when he competed at the Rio de Janeiro Olympics. What we need to do is maintain Javi’s physical condition through training and treatment. In that respect, compared with the period before Sochi, we’re taking a much more planned approach to conditioning and off-ice training.

 

—Coach Orser, you won two Olympic medals yourself. How do you view the value of an Olympic medal?

 

Orser: Athletes always want to win a medal, no matter what. Even multiple-time world champions will say, “I’d be happy with an Olympic medal of any color.” Both Javi and Yuzu are top contenders, so of course we’re preparing them with medals in mind. But the Olympics are also an exciting festival, and I want it to be a cool, thrilling, and wonderful experience for them. That’s important too. The PyeongChang Olympics will be different from past Games. It will be Javi’s third Olympics and Yuzu’s second. Both will compete as gold medal contenders, so the pressure will be completely different. However, they’ve already experienced the Olympics, so they understand the unique atmosphere and the media frenzy. They should also be able to prepare for how to handle and control that.

 

Fernández: I might need even more preparation.

 

Orser: In Javi’s case, it’s all about keeping his daily life at the club as normal as possible. Tracy and I are here, so we can address any mental concerns or technical questions as much as needed. What’s important is avoiding a situation where, in everyday life, all you can think about is the Olympics. It's extremely stressful.

 

During the 1988 Calgary Olympics season, no matter whether I turned on the TV or was driving in the car, I was constantly confronted with Olympic campaigns, and I started thinking, “I’ve had enough of the Olympics.” I felt like I had no way to escape. Even when shopping, cashiers would say things like, “Good luck winning the gold medal!”

 

But Javi won’t be going back to Spain, so he’ll be able to maintain a private environment. Yuzu would also be better off staying here to train instead of returning to Japan. The Cricket Club provides a protected space, so no matter how noisy the outside world gets, they can keep their normal training routine. And that’s a big advantage heading into the Olympics. Even I feel enormous pressure wondering whether I can bring out the best in Yuzu and Javi.

 

Fernández: This will be my third Olympics, and honestly, I feel like I have nothing to lose. Just because I have more experience and more medals than before doesn’t change the fact that the Olympics are unpredictable. So if I can stand on the podium, I’ll be lucky, but even if I don’t, I’ll be satisfied. I’ve reached a level I never imagined for myself, and I’m heading into the Olympics with so much support from fans. Just being able to do that makes me happy.

 

A rink where an Olympic champion encourages other skaters

 

Orser: So, Javi, if you retire after the Olympics, where do you see yourself in 10 years? Have you thought about your future?

 

Fernández: Ten years from now, I’ll be around 36. I don’t really know the specifics yet. After retiring, I’d like to perform in shows for a while, and then I want to teach skating. I’d like to become a coach like Brian. I’m not sure yet whether I’ll teach at this Cricket Club or somewhere else.

 

Orser: You’d be more than welcome here.

 

Fernández: I think skating will become more popular in Spain in the future, but I don’t know if there will be a demand for training athletes or if only the shows will be popular. So I’d like to coach somewhere in the world, not just in Spain. But before going on my own, I want to learn from Brian and Tracy, so I might coach in Toronto for a while.

 

— Is Coach Orser the strict type, or more of a lenient type?

 

Fernández: He adapts his approach depending on the skater. With me, he gets strict when I need to push myself more. But in everyday situations, he’s very calm and approachable.

 

Orser: When a skater isn’t practicing properly right before a competition, I’ll yell at them, saying, "Get your act together!" Javi takes it seriously, and afterward we talk things through and meet each other halfway. That’s how it should be. With Yuzu, though, he gets really down when scolded and tends to worry deeply, so I usually start with a discussion instead of getting angry. Also, Tracy has a different style than I do, and the fact that skaters trust her personally really helps strengthen the skater-coach relationship. 

 

Fernández: I really think this Cricket Club provides an environment where each skater can train in a way that suits them. The coaches cooperate closely, and sometimes one coach will ask another, "My skater is competing in a national tournament, so can you go with them instead?" You wouldn’t see that anywhere else. Usually, it’s more like, "This skater is mine. If they succeed, it’s my credit." The skaters also support each other. No matter their level, everyone understands that we all have good days and bad days, so they encourage one another. For example, an Olympic champion might encourage a skater struggling with a double axel by saying, "Keep going, you’ll get it tomorrow."

 

Orser: It’s precisely because it’s a small, close-knit community that everyone can care for one another. When I was a kid, after a competition, I’d return to my hometown and the townspeople would plan a little parade for me on a fire truck ladder. It only lasted about a minute, but it was a reward. I’ve continued coaching with the hope that a warm, supportive community like that could grow here at the Cricket Club as well.

 

Fernández: But that’s something special even in the skating world. The staff at this rink are also amazing. One day, before I knew it, there was a Spanish flag hanging in the rink, and flyers with supportive messages were posted up. I’ve never experienced that at any other club. They really take good care of you.

 

Orser: I feel really fortunate to have the Cricket Club community, and the skaters and coaches of Team Brian. It’s wonderful that this environment helps motivate the athletes. Every day, I feel reassured that the direction I’ve worked toward over the past ten years as a coach has been the right one.

 

 

(October 14, 2016, at the Cricket Club)

 

[yuzurujenn]

*Machine translation, inaccuracies exist. Please do not reply in this thread.*

 

 

Afterword

 

Spoiler

Nestled among maple trees in an upscale residential neighborhood north of Toronto, the Cricket Club has a history spanning more than 50 years. Every skater who trains here inevitably falls in love. They ask themselves: where else can so many people who love skating come together, where else can one find a place so full of warmth and care? At the heart of this paradise is the author, Brian Orser.

 

Brian is undeniably a Canadian superstar. Even on the way to the Sochi Olympics, it was Brian, not Yuzuru Hanyu, who was admired by airport staff and asked for autographs. Yet Brian never shows an ounce of arrogance. At a press conference following the 2015 World Championships, Hanyu commented:

 

"We’ve been training in a happy environment. Brian not only pushes us forward as a coach but also cares for all of us in the Cricket family, watching over our growth, and sometimes he even becomes like a mother to us."

 

These words are exactly true. Not only does he guide practice, but he also surrounds his athletes with unconditional love, cares about their health and future, and watches over them. This is something that couldn’t be done if it were purely a business. There are many coaches who gather top athletes around them, mold them in their own style, and earn a reputation as masterful mentors, but Brian is different.

 

The factors behind Team Brian’s success can be attributed to the athletes’ talent, meticulous strategies, excellent coaching staff, and favorable training environment. But the reason all these elements have come together and continued to overcome obstacles is precisely because of the kind of motherly love Brian provides.

 

Following his previous work, in this book "Team Brian: The 300-Point Legend," Brian shares the two-and-a-half-year journey during which he, together with his two beloved students, rewrote skating history. In addition, Mr. Yutaka Higuchi, a coach whom Brian trusts, provided valuable advice on the book’s structure. If readers can experience even a small part of Team Brian’s wonderful community, there could be no greater happiness for Brian and Mr. Higuchi.

 

Yoshie Noguchi

 

 

 

A Message from Brian Orser to the Team

 

Spoiler

A team is… a group of people with different skills and roles who work together, support each other, and unite around a common project or goal.

 

With this definition in mind, I have carefully chosen the best team for each individual athlete. For this reason, team members vary depending on personalities and compatibility.

 

Yuzuru Hanyu’s Team:

Brian Orser – Team Leader

Tracy Wilson – Co-Leader

Shae-Lynn Bourne – Free Program Choreographer

Jeffrey Buttle – Short Program Choreographer

Paige Aistrop – Spin Specialist Coach

 

Javier Fernández’s Team:

Brian Orser – Team Leader

Tracy Wilson – Co-Leader

David Wilson – Choreographer

Paige Aistrop – Spin Specialist Coach

Jason Vescovi – Conditioning Coach

Hugo Chouinard – Music Technician

Josiane Lamond – Short Program Costume Designer

Denis Pizzacalla – Free Program Costume Designer

David Baden (IMG) – Manager

 

 

I am deeply grateful for the passion and dedication of the team members who support Yuzu and Javier. Each member is an expert in their field, and I have great respect for their skills and the excellence they bring. Our relationship is built on trust and communication. I feel very fortunate to be able to share this journey with each of you.

— Brian Orser

 

 

 

About the Author: Brian Orser
Figure skating coach, born in Canada in 1961. A superstar, he won silver medals at both the 1984 Sarajevo and 1988 Calgary Olympics. After retiring, he gained popularity as a professional skater and became a full-time coach in 2006, beginning with guiding Kim Yuna. He currently coaches men’s singles skaters Yuzuru Hanyu and Javier Fernández. Under his guidance, Kim Yuna won gold at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, and Yuzuru Hanyu won gold at the 2014 Sochi Olympics. In the 2015–2016 season, Hanyu and Fernández both surpassed 300 points, a first in figure skating history.

 

Supervised by: Yutaka Higuchi
Figure skating coach, choreographer, and commentator, born in Tokyo in 1949. As a men’s singles skater, he represented Japan at the 1968 Grenoble and 1972 Sapporo Olympics. He won three consecutive All-Japan Championships from 1969 to 1971. From 1968 to 1971, he was a member of the Toronto Cricket Skating & Curling Club. He retired from competitive skating after the 1972 World Championships. Currently, he is Head Coach at Meiji Jingu Gaien Ice Skating Rink and contributes to the popularity of figure skating in Japan through his highly regarded TV commentary.

 

Compiled and Translated by: Yoshie Noguchi
Sports journalist and former Mainichi Shimbun reporter. Drawing on her own experience in figure skating and judging credentials, she writes precise articles on rules and techniques, earning the trust of domestic and international athletes and coaches. She is also a summer member of the Toronto Cricket Skating & Curling Club. Her books include "Gift: What Figure Skaters Have Taught Me," "Midori Ito: Beyond the Triple Axel," and "Yuzuru Hanyu: The Champion’s Method 2008–2016." She has also contributed to "Number," "AERA," "World Figure Skating," and "Canon World Figure Skating Web."