Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, February 14, 1994 TAG: 9402140084
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: GEORGE DIAZ ORLANDO SENTINEL
DATELINE: KVITFJELL, NORWAY LENGTH: Medium
\ The jubilant cheers of the hometown crowd had not subsided when Tommy Moe began his run down the Kvitfjell, not particularly confident of striking the gold that awaited him at the finish.
Blink and you would miss the difference between Moe and Norway's Kjetil Andre Aamodt - four-hundredths of a second - a scant margin of victory, but enough to silence the 30,000 spectators hoping to celebrate a local victory in the men's Olympic downhill Sunday morning.
Most importantly, Moe's historic run buried years of personal disappointment, silencing critics who assumed that the United States' Alpine team would fail again in the Winter Games.
Moe's victory gave the U.S. team its first downhill gold medal since 1984, when Bill Johnson won at Sarajevo.
"The biggest surprise was when I came down and I was in first," Moe, 23, said. "I was pretty excited. I took my skis off and I thought, `Hey, I might be there for a medal today.' That was my main concern, getting any color medal."
Moe finished at 1 minute, 45.75 seconds, edging Aamodt (1:45.79) and Canada's Ed Podivinsky (1:45.87).
Aamodt had just finished his run, temporarily jumping into first place before Moe, skiing eighth, began his descent of the $20 million course that runs next to the icy Glomma River.
"That's a great feeling to be in the lead, but it only lasted two minutes," Aamodt said. "Then Tommy came. I really enjoyed my race today . . . I thought maybe it would hold up, but the answer came pretty quickly."
Victory secured, Moe grabbed a U.S. flag and another from his home state of Alaska while accepting congratulations from first lady Hillary Rodham Clinton. The most poignant embrace came later, when Moe and his father shared a moment of personal satisfaction thousands of miles away from home.
They had been together before, two years ago on the slopes of Val d'Isere in France, where Moe finished a disappointing 20th in the downhill. Frustrated at his son's performance, Tom Moe lashed back at his son. Tears in his eyes, Tommy Moe skied away. "I was so hard on him," Tom Moe said.
Their relationship had been punctuated with turmoil before, when Tommy Moe turned to drugs and alcohol as a teen-ager. At 16, when Tommy Moe was kicked off the U.S. Alpine team, Tom Moe brought his son to Dutch Harbor, off the Aleutian Islands in Alaska.
"Right next to hell," Tom Moe said.
It seemed that way. Tommy Moe worked construction 12 hours a day under the guidance of a father determined to set his son straight.
"I hammered him," Tom Moe said. "Anything I could do to burn him to the ground. I wanted him to hate it. And I made him hate it. He made the right choice. I didn't have to make it for him."
Lessons learned, Moe emerged as one of America's best prospects on the slopes - although that potential rarely surfaced on the World Cup circuit. Two bronze medals - one at Val d'Isere in the Super G and a downhill bronze in Bormio in late-December fueled medal chances for a U.S. team maligned in a recent Sports Illustrated profile. Detailing a fractious relationship among administration, coaches and skiers, the article described Moe as part of the "lead-footed snow plow brigade."
"I think my result today kind of really puts it in place," Moe said. "American skiers work really hard. We don't deserve to be ridiculed . . .
"I read it and it kind of stoked my fire a little bit. There was a picture of me and the caption said, `Tommy Moe is no flying success story.' I guess I'm not. I hadn't won any big races prior to this one. Maybe he should write another one next week."
Dispatches this week will document Moe's unlikely gold rush, a proud father and stepmother sharing the moment with him after a frantic rush past the crowds to arrive at the course by the 11 a.m. start time.
Tommy Moe acknowledges his father's presence, here and now.
"I learned my lessons the hard way, I guess," Moe said. "I wouldn't have this [medal] if not for his guidance and support. I made him tear his hair off."
Tom Moe pulled his cap off, providing a bare body of evidence. A few lost hairs. One gold medal gained.
It seems a fair compromise.
by CNB