Cold reality: Ohno slips and is ousted in semifinal

TURIN, Italy — Certain things at the Olympics, you can just count on.

Ice dancers will appear in costumes that would give Liberace pause. A local government will get stuck with a big, fat expense tab. And the 1,500-meter short-track speedskating race will turn into a demolition derby, with Apolo Ohno right in the middle of the dust cloud.

Ohno entered Sunday's race as the defending Olympic champion, but got tangled up with a Chinese competitor and was the last to cross the finish line in the semifinal. He left the Palavela as a third-place finisher in the B final as Korea's Hyun-Soo Anh and Ho-Suk Lee walked away with gold and silver.

For the uninitiated, the B final is a consolation round. And any doubt that Ohno is unaccustomed to skating it was removed when, as his fellow second-stringers approached the start line, Ohno was still sitting in the locker room, mulling his semifinal flameout.

"I didn't even know I was racing," he said. "I was just sitting around in these clothes, and they were like, 'You have a B final, and they're on the ice.' So I just threw my stuff on and ran out there."

Out the tunnel he bolted, past a couple startled security cops, and up to the gate in the thick foam padding around the race track. The poor bloke manning that gate, seeing a crazed guy wearing a bodysuit and a soul patch running at him with knife blades on his feet, did what any of us would do: called for backup.

The Keystone Kops routine that ensued will go down in the short-track annals, which are getting thicker all the time. Two guys tried to restrain the defending gold medalist. Another called for more help. Yet another stood there and pointed frantically, not knowing what to do.

Ohno, with little time for such happy discourse, made his best passing move of the night. Scampering past them all, much to the delight of 5,477 fans in the Palavela, he leaped over the barrier and scampered to the finish line just in time for the start.

The crowd ate it up, a testament to the star power of the guy from Seattle. They had already watched Ohno go down in the semifinal debacle: Skating second behind China's Li Ye, he had put his hand down to touch the ice on a turn, appearing to touch Li's skate. Recoiling to avoid contact, he lost his balance and skidded out of the turn, nearly falling.

No redemption came in the B final, either.

Afterward, the vanquished Ohno was as calm and gracious as he was four years ago, when he emerged the least-crumpled crash dummy and walked away with the gold medal in the same race.

"That race wasn't too far out of the norm," he said of Sunday's semifinal. "Nothing really crazy happened. I was in good qualifying position and just got bumped."

Following Ohno through a race is a lot like playing one of those high-speed scoreboard shell games. Which is both fun and heartbreaking, considering the stakes.

Four years of hard work, a half second of contact, and a litany of questions.

Why would Ohno attempt to pass from second to first in a semifinal when he only needed a second place to advance?

"It's hard to tell what's going on behind me," he said. "I wasn't sure how close the guys were."

What exactly happened when Ohno and Li locked body parts in that corner?

"We had a little bit of contact, causing me to get a little bit too far forward on my skates. I lost a lot of speed, almost went down, and just swung way too wide and let other guys go by."

What exactly was going on in that confrontation with security before the B final?

"I just think the volunteers just weren't sure. They see, like, some crazed skater come on the ice. They're like, 'Who's this guy?' I could've been a fan or something."

And, most important, how, after all that, on a day the United States generally got beat up on in Turin, how do you pick up the pieces and get it all back together again for your next race, three days down the road?

"It's hard," Ohno said, looking downward. "It's really hard. I'm a human being. It hurts. I put a lot of dedication and time into this sport. To not even make that final and to even be able to challenge those top skaters, it hurts. But at the same time, there's a lot of racing left. I'm not going to drag my head."

His girlfriend and teammate, Allison Baver, had the unenviable task of watching Ohno skate while preparing herself for a team relay heat — a race in which she and her teammates also failed to advance.

"It really breaks my heart," she said softly. "I know he is the best skater in the world and he didn't really have a chance to show that tonight. But the Olympics really aren't over yet."

In fact, they've barely begun. The 1,000 meters is likely Ohno's strongest race. And the 500 is one he wants badly, having botched it in Salt Lake City.

Translation: Store this one in memory, and hold on for what comes next.

"It sucks, not making the final," Ohno said. "In my heart I felt like I could've been there. I've brought everything to the table for these Games. I've prepared myself mentally, physically the best I can. But today just wasn't my day. It wasn't supposed to happen."

He forced a little smile.

"Maybe I'm a little bit of an underdog now. Who knows?"

Ron Judd: 206-464-8280 or rjudd@seattletimes.com.

There's still time
Although Apolo Ohno missed the gold Sunday, he remains a heavy favorite to medal in his other events:
Day	Event
Wednesday	1,000-meter preliminary, 5,000 relay preliminary
Saturday	1,000-meter final
Wed., Feb. 22	500-meter preliminary
Sat., Feb. 25	500-meter final, 5,000-meter relay final