Saturday, December 16, 2000
JAMES CHRISTIE
Globe and Mail
Enjoying the tough sledding
Canadian women expect
to win a medal in the bobsleigh event at the next Winter
Games in Salt Lake City
Women's bobsleigh makes its
first appearance as an Olympic medal sport next winter
at Salt Lake City and when it gets under the media microscope,
it promises to rival figure skating as a glamour event
for women.This is not a sport of whirling, skinny pixies
in frills, such as Tara Lipinski. In the days when elite
sport seems to be dominated by teens and multimillionaire
draft picks, bobsleigh stands out as a sport for adults.
The sledders have a visceral appeal. They're aggressive,
not dainty."You hit the sled with all your might
and let the tiger out," says Cherie Whelan, a native
of St. John's. The red-headed former rower has been sledding
for three years. Whelan, who turns 31 on Tuesday, packs
plenty of tiger in a powerful 5-foot-10, 185-pound frame.
She has one of the best push starts on the World Cup circuit.
Because female bobsleigh is
a strength sport, the athletes tend to be mature, confident,
zaftig women. They're articulate thirtysomethings with
a well-developed sense of who they are. They're fast,
strong and daring. They brave the dangers of whipping
down an ice chute at 130 kilometres an hour or more, with
only a micro-thin layer of Spandex separating their skin
from the bite of subzero air and the sharp ice.
Given the serpentine tracks
and the clingy speedsuits, women's bobsleigh is destined
to be hailed by men as the sport of curves. Inevitably,
some marketer will suggest a racy calendar, like those
already produced by several women's sports teams.
But the Canadian women won't
need that to get noticed. In 2002, they expect to stand
out by climbing on a medal podium at Salt Lake City. Women's
two-man bobsleigh -- the sport resists the political correctness
of terms such as two-person or brakeperson -- is a new
event at the Olympics, though men's bobsleigh was one
of the originals, dating back to 1924 at Chamonix, France.
Canada has an amazing record
of winning medals in a sport's debut. Think of the past
few Olympics, and Canadians have won medals in snowboarding,
curling, freestyle skiing, trampoline, synchronized diving,
beach volleyball, mountain biking and rhythmic gymnastics.
Canada is great off the start line, it's maintaining that
edge with supportive programs where Canadians slip back.
"But at this time we have
the training advantage," says Sara Monk, one of Canada's
three sled pilots. "This year, at Canada Olympic
Park, they've built an ice house, an indoor track for
start training in the off-season. We have the best facility
in the world now."
There are currently seven women
sliding in Canada's elite bobsleigh program, coached by
two-time Canadian champion Sigi Feuser, and the three
drivers all rank in the top 11 on the World Cup circuit.
Christina Smith of Calgary won a World Cup bronze two
weeks ago at Igls, Austria, with brakeman Kathleen Salikin
of Kimberley, B.C,. and is ranked fourth. Monk, born in
England and living in Calgary, ranks seventh and Christine
Fraser of Water Valley, Alta., ranks 11th.
If Canada gets one of its sleds
into the top three in the year-end World Cup standing,
the country earns two entries in the field for the 2002
Olympics.
The Canadian team is small,
close-knit and well-matched -- to the extent that during
an interview session with four of the team members in
Toronto this week, the women often finished each other's
thoughts and sentences.
The women's World Cup bobsleigh
circuit is still like that, too, they say, competitive
but never cutthroat. Says Whelan: "We're so new and
excited to be part of the Olympic experience that we're
still friendly."
There were 18 countries at the last world championship,
up from 12 the year before and 35 sleds and crews, up
from 21.
"Teams come up and ask
me how to steer through a certain corner -- and I'll share
the information," Smith says. "We're pioneers,
still, and we want to help the sport grow. We still wish
each other good luck and hug each other. There's camaraderie
that needs to be there to promote the whole sport and
make it viable."
Women's bobsleigh in Canada
is in its infancy, only coming into existence after the
creation of the Calgary Olympic bob run. The Canadians
still aren't full-time athletes. Most have real jobs:
Whelan is a claims auditor with the Workers Compensation
Board in Alberta; Smith is taking time off from her career
as an equine therapist in Europe; Monk is in financial
risk management; brakeman Teresa Schlachter, 36, has the
most on her plate as an athlete, a mother of three and
manager of recreation and culture for the town of Canmore,
Alta.
"I get a lot of support
from my family to carry on the sledding career and amazing
support from community and friends," Schlachter says.
"It's tough being away, but still achievable. It
means you do a lot of balancing of the things in your
life."
Smith, the World Cup medalist, knows her sledding job
description well: "You need delicate hands and you
need to use all your senses . . . you need the hands of
a surgeon and the eyes of a hawk.
"Basically, my job is to control something that's
out of control. Once you start, there's no stopping."
Being a veteran of many runs doesn't erase fear.
"I get a look of terror
in my eyes," Monk says. When she leaps to the controls
of the rocketing sled, she wears a helmet with wording
that applies to to both her financial profession and her
sport. It says: "Risk Advisory."
"My first time down, I was terrified, honestly,"
Monk says. "But once I got over the line it was a
joyful: 'Hey, I did that!' "
Smith feels the nerves, too. "Before we go down,
I breathe heavy," she says, but adds if she were
to lose that sense of anxiousness or fear, she'd lose
her edge.
"You can be fearful, but not chicken. There's a difference,"
Whelan says.
Smith says she doesn't think
of driving as tough, "but you're never guaranteed
a flawless ride down the track. A smooth ride usually
means it's been a slow ride."
Monk, in her third year as
a driver, figures she is the smallest woman on the World
Cup circuit at 5 foot 4, 134 pounds. She was discovered
playing soccer and invited out because she had running
ability and power in her legs.
"But I have to work harder
at the weights to make sure I keep my strength up with
the other girls." Monk says Whelan, her brakeman,
"must outweigh me by 20 kilograms."
"She needs a big horse like me behind her,"
Whelan continues the thought. "I don't have the luxury
of seeing where I'm going. You can tell a good run from
a bad one from the pressure you feel going down the track
-- and from the bruises the next day."
Monk, despite her size, controls
a sled well. "We're easier to train than men and
we have a softer touch as far as driving is concerned,"
she says. "Think of it: When you're driving on the
road, it doesn't take much of a motion on the wheel to
change lanes at 120 kilometres an hour."
Finding the best line though a curve takes a combination
of feel and experience. Monk and Schlachter tipped over
and crashed at Winterberg, Germany, in her first year,
ominously in corner No. 13. They skidded the rest of the
way upside down.
"When that happens you
pull yourself in as hard as you can. I'm small enough
that I can disappear almost all the way under the cowling
of the sled. Biceps strength is good to have then,"
Monk says. "But the brakeman has to squeeze in and
try to keep her shoulders off the ice, even if it means
dragging her helmet."
The crew is off until the world
championships at Calgary, Feb. 5 to 9, where they will
have home-ice advantage. That should give them confidence
going into the last two World Cup races of the season
at the 2002 Olympic track in Park City, Utah, Feb. 13
to 16.
Monk likes Park City, and has
hit speeds of 132 kilometres an hour there. "The
track drops quickly and the speed is there in corner one.
You pull as much as 4.5 G-force in the corners."
Smith has also gone fast at Park City -- 135 kilometres
an hour -- but her favourite track is the hand-crafted
natural-ice chute at St. Moritz, Switzerland. There, special
ice crews come in each winter to construct, turn by turn,
the ice run that links two towns. Each turn has its own
eismeister, or ice master. It would be like a golf course
having a specialist to groom each green.
Smith once walked the St. Moritz
course as the men were grooming the corners. In one, the
master was repairing a chip left by a woman's sled. He
scowled. He wasn't used to women in the world of bobsleigh.
"You'd think I painted
a mustache on his Mona Lisa," she says
