Swan Dive in the Finals

The U.S. men's figure skating diva that I referred to in this post had a rough time of it in the finals. He apparently left his aura in the dorm room (I hate it when that happens):

Johnny Weir was busy as he prepared for the biggest night of his life. Getting ready in the athletes' village, his schedule went something like this:

Make sure swan costume from short program securely put away. Check.

Clean dorm room floor one more time. Check.

Glue missing sequins back on outfit. Check

Catch bus to arena.

Oops.

Weir's worst Olympic moment didn't come on the ice Thursday night, where he blew a chance to win a figure skating medal. It came when he was wandering around in the cold wondering if he would ever get to the arena.

Bus schedules? Those are for the concierge to read.

Besides, as much as Weir was talking all week, he didn't have time to listen.

America's only hope in the men's figure skating arrived late and never recovered, skating a tentative one-bear program and dropping from second place to fifth in his first Olympics.

That's one bear, as in only one fan threw a bear on the ice after he was done. Evgeni Plushenko got dozens, and a gold medal to wrap around them.

It was that bad, and Weir knew it.

"I just couldn't get comfortable in this building tonight," he said. "I need to train better. I need to train for every circumstance."

Such as?

"Being late to the arena."

[...]

It doesn't take much to shake up the average figure skater. Takes even less to rattle a self-described "princessy" one who complained the minute he came to the village that there was no room service, the bed was hard and there was dust on the floor of his room.

He wanted a hotel and limo service. He got a twin bed and a bus schedule.

[...]

By the time his program was over, he knew his medal hopes were, too.

"I was terrified today. I wasn't comfortable and that's why I was so scared," Weir said.

Weir barely waited for his bad numbers to pop up on the overhead scoreboard before storming from the kiss and cry area.

"I didn't feel my aura," he said. "I was black inside."

The AOL story sums it up this way:

Back home, they were paying attention.

It's hard not to, though, to a skater who dresses as a swan, admits to being pretentious and said this week that he doesn't like to be called a jock because it makes him think of spandex-clad football players.

Dick Button he's not. Tonya Harding acted tougher than this guy.

I think I'll stick with NASCAR.