[2022.12.02] Newsweek Japan column - A writer surprised by "Yuzuru Hanyu's divine response"

[yuzurujenn]

*machine translation, inaccuracies exist*

 

2022.12.02

 

Source: https://www.newsweekjapan.jp/stories/culture/2022/12/post-100226_1.php

Archived: https://web.archive.org/web/20250000000000*/https://www.newsweekjapan.jp/stories/culture/2022/12/post-100226_1.php

 

Even a writer with 30 years of experience as a figure skating fan was surprised by "Yuzuru Hanyu's divine response"

 

“Showing his way of life through performance and giving back to the fans who have given him strength.”
A figure skating fan of over 30 years looks at the bond between Yuzuru Hanyu and his fans, and at ‘Prologue’.

 

By Akari Akane

 

Spoiler

Yuzuru Hanyu’s first solo ice show as a professional athlete, Prologue, successfully brought its Yokohama performances to a close and now has fans eagerly awaiting the upcoming Hachinohe shows (December 2, 3, and 5).

 

On November 5, I went to a movie theater in Yokohama to attend the live viewing of Prologue.

 

I've always attended Hanyu's major performances, including numerous World Championships and his consecutive victories at the Sochi and Pyeongchang Olympics, so I was deeply disappointed that I couldn't get tickets to the Yokohama performance. However, realizing once again just how deeply fans longed to see the first performance of the greatest figure skating star in history as a professional athlete filled me with joy.

 

At the cinema, a pre-show briefing began. It was announced that applause and cheering goods were permitted during the performance. Several blue rings lit up as a signal. Later, I learned they were bracelets that had been handed out at the previous day’s performance.

 

A one-man show, lasting an hour and a half. Even if video footage was included, there are limits to one’s physical endurance. All the more so for Hanyu, who puts his entire soul into every performance to convey his message to his fans.

 

The expectations of fans that “Yuzu will definitely impress us” can at times become pressure. Yet, facing both himself and his fans with sincerity, he undoubtedly shows us the best version of Yuzuru Hanyu.

 

The performance began with an unexpected six-minute practice session set to "Ten to Chi to," the song he used in his final season as an amateur skater. The surrounding audience seemed to synchronize with his movements, applauding every jump and sighing in admiration at his skating.

 

When the first performance, SEIMEI, began, I was reminded of the mystical world of Onmyoji, and the purple walls surrounding the rink at the PyeongChang Olympics. Back then too, every person in the arena was mesmerized by Hanyu, watching him achieve the extraordinary feat of becoming the first man in 66 years to win back-to-back Olympic golds in figure skating.

 

"Why don't more people come to see Yuzu perform?"

 

I’ve been a figure skating fan for over 30 years, especially of men’s singles. It began when I saw a special feature on past NHK Trophy performances, where Fumio Igarashi appeared. I was captivated by the sight of a noble, princely Japanese skater competing at the top level of the world.

 

When I entered the workforce, I began traveling overseas to watch competitions in person. At that time, the only figure skating event broadcast on TV in Japan was the NHK Trophy; even the World Championships weren’t aired. In the early days, there were no video-sharing sites, and no figure skating tour packages. If you wanted to see a performance, you had to go to the venue yourself, planning your own trip and traveling abroad to watch.

 

As I met and talked with other fans at venues in Japan and overseas, I noticed a difference in temperament between Japanese and overseas fans. Overseas fans often have several favorite skaters, or support all the athletes from their country. In contrast, many Japanese fans devote themselves to supporting a single skater until that skater retires. It seems as though they discipline themselves, feeling that if they don't support them wholeheartedly, they would be letting down the skater who is so single-mindedly working hard.

 

It’s not a matter of which is better or worse. But perhaps due to this national trait, up until around the Sochi Olympics, I felt that relatively few Japanese fans traveled abroad to see Hanyu’s performances despite his remarkable ability. Around 2010, when Hanyu made his senior debut, Japanese men’s figure skating was in its golden age, and many dedicated fans already had a favorite skater they were supporting.

 

Even after his “Romeo + Juliet” performance at the 2012 World Championships in Nice became legendary, I was often asked by overseas fans at competitions: “Why don’t more Japanese fans come to see Yuzu skate?”

 

Hanyu, who from early on was exempt from qualifying rounds for the All-Japan Championships, competed overwhelmingly often overseas. It wasn’t until after the Sochi Olympics that travel agencies began offering package tours to Grand Prix and World Championships events, anticipating the participation of Hanyu’s fans. At competition venues, I often felt that foreign fans had become enthusiastic about Hanyu even earlier.

 

In Japan, Hanyu’s popularity began to spread beyond his original core fan base. Whether seen up close or from afar, his beauty and the way he poured his whole life into his performances deeply moved even those who happened to come across his skating on TV or online. The glimpses of sincerity and boyish charm shown in the Kiss & Cry and in post-performance interviews likely strengthened people’s desire to support Yuzuru Hanyu as a person.

 

As for me, I was excited to see a prince-like Japanese athlete competing against the world for the first time in a long time, and I followed his performance with excitement. 

 

At the 2010 World Junior Championships, when he was 15 years old, I felt that Hanyu's true nature was more clearly expressed in the "aggressive, sharp-eyed prince with a strong will" he displayed in his short program to "Mission: Impossible II" than in the "androgynous, gentle prince" he displayed in his free program to "Rhapsody on a Theme by Paganini," which secured his victory.

 

A Three-Page Letter to a Fan, The Sincere Words That Touch the Heart

 

On the big theater screen, the performance had shifted to “Change.” It’s a piece Hanyu used for exhibition programs during his two seasons as a junior competitor, made famous by the world-renowned Tsugaru shamisen duo, the Yoshida Brothers. In Prologue, however, Hanyu collaborated with the young talent Kōki Nakamura, combining the powerful, rock-infused sound of the Tsugaru shamisen to create a captivating performance.

 

From early on, Hanyu stood out not only for his performances but also for his character. Until then, most Japanese male skaters had been of the quiet type, shy in interviews, often embodying the spirit of “harmony above all.”

 

In contrast, Hanyu answered interviews fluently and without hesitation, expressed openly his desire to win, and made his own decisions about his performances and the path to his success.

 

At an ice show held soon after the Great East Japan Earthquake, he carried an almost overwhelming intensity. With his home rink closed and he himself being a disaster victim, Hanyu practiced and performed as if determined not to waste even a single moment on the ice, landing quadruple jumps again and again during rehearsals and in the finale.

 

After the Sochi Olympics, his position within the Japanese team shifted from the “younger brother” role to that of a leader. Becoming more aware of the “Yuzuru Hanyu” the public expected, he grew even more disciplined and stoic.

 

He is polite and well-liked by the media, gives more than the expected comments in interviews, sometimes shows his vulnerable side, and innocently rejoices when he wins.

 

Some people view Hanyu as an "egotistical type with great self-promotion skills," but I see him as the exact opposite: a "pure, honest, and somewhat clumsy type." His quick mind is obvious, yet his trusting, openhearted way of showing emotions can sometimes be a little unnerving.

 

In the season leading up to the Pyeongchang Olympics, I met a fan at an overseas competition in which Hanyu was not competing. She wasn't what you'd call an "only fan"; she'd come to support another skater, but she told me she was also rooting for Hanyu.

 

Her story began when, years earlier, the junior Hanyu had given her what could only be called a “divine response” (*exceptionally thoughtful/kind act). Since then, she has sent him fan letters and gifts on various occasions.

 

As we chatted, she suddenly said, “I’ll show you something special,” and pulled a foreign envelope sealed in a Ziploc bag from her bag. It was a handwritten letter from Hanyu himself.

 

She told me that she had recently written at the end of a fan letter, “Your popularity has grown so much lately, it feels like you’ve gone far away. It makes me a little sad.” And only a few days later, she received his reply.

 

The letter was handwritten across three sheets of stationery. It carefully explained the current situation and expressed his feelings to his fan, saying things like: “Thank you for supporting me all these years.” “I’m sorry I can’t respond to you the way I used to.” “Right now, I’m working hard in practice.”

 

Reading it, I couldn’t hold back tears. Each word was chosen so sincerely, each character written with such care, I wondered how much time he must have spent on it. I’ve always been the kind of fan who supports many figure skaters, regardless of gender, but at that moment, looking at the letter in front of me, I thought, “I want you to support only Hanyu.”

 

Days of Glory and What Lies Ahead

 

In the live viewing, after the encore performance of “Parisienne Walkways,” a video message appeared. On the screen, Hanyu said, “I'll do my best for all of you.”

 

Even now, I sometimes wonder: What could have been done to keep this rare, exceptional athlete in the amateur world? Should the "perfect 10" barrier in PCS (Program Component Scores) have been removed, like in gymnastics? When the perfect score is fixed, the performance required to achieve 10 points changes every year, and it inevitably ends up being a relative evaluation compared to other skaters.

 

But even after turning professional, Hanyu remained more athletic than ever. In "Prologue," his physique was as developed as that of an athlete competing in a season, and his quadruple jumps and spins were sharp.

 

The steps in his old competitive programs have evolved even further, and he still fits perfectly into costumes from ten years ago, without alteration. I felt embarrassed for ever thinking, “Now that he’s retired from competition, he can finally eat whatever he wants and take it easy.”

 

He builds his shows while listening to his fans’ voices. Through his performances, he shows his way of life and repays the fans who have given him strength. For Hanyu, the glory-filled amateur years may have been a buildup toward Prologue, and now, at last, he might finally be able to start doing what he most wanted to do.

 

By a miracle, I managed to get a ticket for the Hachinohe performance. A month after the Yokohama shows, Yuzuru Hanyu will surely appear even more evolved. I want to firmly imprint his skating in my eyes and take in the message he conveys.

 

 

(Note: Since Yuzuru Hanyu has said that he wants to be called an athlete even after turning professional, therefore, this article refers to him as “Hanyu-senshu” — “Hanyu, the athlete.”)