Bitterly disappointed, members of the Kerrigan camp were subdued at the party at the Victoria afterward. They truly believed she had won, that the technical marks for Baiul had been too high. Nancy hadn't come so far, worked so hard, put up with so much, to win silver. The inner peace of knowing she had been great when the stakes had been highest, well, that wasn't quite enough for this night. "Did you watch the whole thing?" Brenda Kerrigan asked an acquaintance. "What did you think?"
"Her performance was golden," he said.
"I need to hear it," Brenda said. "I need to hear everyone say it."
Twenty-four hours later, on Saturday night, hours before the Kerrigan entourage would catch a flight home to the U.S., Brenda had already adopted a new perspective. "It's not right, what the judges did, but they did us a favor," she said. "Two people have told me this today. The first time it went in one ear and out the other. The second time, I started to think about it. It makes sense. The silver medal will give Nancy back her normal life quicker. They did us a favor. Nancy, you know, never liked being special."
No, but like silver, it becomes her.