Hamilton finished with six 5.9s to Orser's 11, but while Orser had won the evening, Hamilton's bank account from the compulsories paid off in gold. The decidedly unthreatening Jozef Sabovtchik of Czechoslovakia won the bronze. Simond, incidentally, ended up in sixth place.
Hamilton made no I-was-sick excuses, preferring to play down the ear infection. "It wasn't my best, but I did it," he said. "That's the way this game is scored. By the way, is that a hockey crowd out there?" From its exuberance it seemed that way, especially when Hamilton grabbed a U.S. flag from a spectator and took a victory lap around the rink with Orser and Sabovtchik.
Then he was off to the drug-control room for his urine test. But he was blocked at the doorway by a Yugoslav security guard. "You got no credential," the guard said, in effect. Stunned, Hamilton pointed to the disc shining below his neck. "But I just won the gold medal," he said. "I promise you I'm a real competitor." The guard remained unmoved, so Hamilton was forced to dash back to the locker room to get his credential.
In the women's free skating program it was world champ Sumners against challenger Witt (pronounced vit), 18 and beautiful, the belle of Karl-Marx-Stadt. Witt had emerged from the preliminaries in the lead, followed by Sumners and the U.S.S.R.'s Kira Ivanova, assuredly no slouch. The gold medal could have gone to any of them.
Well, it could have until Witt up and skated to Embraceable You. She whirled high in three triple jumps and landed effortlessly, and she was both stirring and delightful in her other moves. Witt got 11 5.8s and five 5.9s (with but two modest sevens mixed in)—and the only way Sumners, next up, could have beaten her would have been to roll out everything in her repertoire. No more of that languid, ladylike stuff, right, Roz?
Almost right, at that. Sumners skated terrifically—at times one could see touches of Peggy Fleming in her graceful arabesque, hints of Sonja Henie in her serpentine sequence—and lost by only one-tenth of a point. But as smooth as she was, sadly there was no fire. In her last two jumps she opted for a double toe loop instead of a triple, and she singled out of what was to have been a double Axel. "I'll question myself about that all night," she said later. "I could have won if I had landed those jumps. But right now, I'm going to go home and eat some chocolate."
America's tiny Tiffany Chin glided up from 12th place, after the compulsories, to fourth, behind bronze medalist Ivanova. The redoubtable Elaine Zayak, once the world and U.S. champion, finished a dismal sixth in spite of skating a splendid program—and the judges seemed to be telling her that it's finally ice-show time.
And what of the Valentine's Day snookering? When last we left Blumberg and Seibert, they were on their way to an Olympic medal in Sarajevo—not the gold, for that had been booked by Torvill and Dean long before—but still a medal. Blumberg and Seibert had worked for it ever since finishing seventh in the 1980 Olympics. For the Sarajevo Games they had produced a new routine, satiny and lyrical and dazzling. It was a far cry from their previously bouncy, typically American number and appeared to be closely patterned after that of world champs Torvill and Dean, whose ice dancing is almost a kind of erotic ballet. Based on what happened last week, Blumberg and Seibert's switcheroo may have been a mistake.
Torvill and Dean swept grandly into Sarajevo aboard a sleeper direct from their training center in West Germany and were met at the station at 8:32 a.m. by a loyal band of British journalists. Loyal? The Manchester Guardian refers to T and D as THEIR GREATNESSES.
Meanwhile, Blumberg and Seibert arrived with the rest of the U.S. skaters and milled around town. One of Blumberg's first accomplishments was to set off the security checkpoint alarms at the Olympic Village because her inside parka pockets were stuffed with Mallomars from home. "Must have been the tinfoil wrappers or something," she said.