Browning remains the real deal on ice

Copyright 1999 Southam Inc.

Almost by definition, the realm of the elite figure skater is a world of preening, posturing egomania. Of makeup, artificial glitter and baroque eccentricity.

It's where Kurt Browning lives and thrives. A highly-strung, tightly-choreographed world. A closed, me-first world, lit with klieg lights and spangles.

So how do you explain the depth of affection the Caroline Kid drew -- and still draws -- from the Canadian grass roots? From wind-scoured Alberta steppes, to Nova Scotia mussel beds?

Easy, really. Begin with four letters: R-E-A-L. Now add four more: G-U-T-S.

''I took competing for my country very seriously,'' said Browning, whose daydreams often peel away years while his jet, bus, or rental car chews up miles during the Chrysler Stars on Ice tour.

''Not getting an Olympic medal is a burr under my saddle. Yeah, it bugs me,'' said the kid, now 32, and ''showing my age big time.''

Count the years on five fingers. It was Lillehammer, 1994, and the four- time world champ sailed into his third set of Winter Games rehearsed, fit, and ready.

But the kid's well-documented Olympic trials died for keeps on the seat of his pants. An aborted triple flip during technicals sabotaged his chances.

''When it's over, it's over,'' he reminisced on the phone the other day. Like, 'Oh, come on . . . that didn't happen.'

''And it seems so easy when things are going well . . .''

On TV, he apologized to the grasslands and mussel beds. In reply, 4,000 Canadians wrote supportive letters, begging him never to say ''sorry'' again.

Shortly thereafter, before his third professional show in Albany, N.Y., Browning told me how it felt: ''You're out there alone, and you feel so small and ugly. Like a conversation when the other person isn't listening . . . the sport isn't fair. It's like real life.''

But there's not much chance of solitude when Kurt the Kid returns to Calgary with Stars on Ice on April 25, five years and two days after his first pro appearance at the Canadian Airlines Saddledome.

Sitting in the crowd will be an unheralded guest of honour: Kurt's mother, Neva, regaining strength after an illness which sent her to hospital for several weeks during the winter.

She's the one who packed his breakfast in tupperware, for those long, cold 6 a.m. drives to practice in Rocky Mountain House, and Browning's choreographer, Sandra Bezic, has pencilled in a special number -- Glenn Miller's String of Pearls -- for Neva alone.

How R-E-A-L is Kurt Browning?

Real enough to frequently interrupt his schedule -- normally, he'll work 100 shows a year -- for long visits to Neva's bedside.

Because, glitter or no glitter, the one-time Caroline Kid has his priorities clearly aligned.

Though he's the current U.S. pro champion, Browning's been around long enough to see a stage play based on his life. He was welcomed to the Canadian Figure Skating Hall of Fame in January. And the roots-in-the-soil kid who's now a Caroline landowner, who lost his last national championship in '94 to a rising Elvis Stojko, is greying at the temples.

''I still love to skate, but I can feel it,'' he said. ''It really does feel like five years. Travelling can be a grind. The best part of any trip is when it's over.''

His wife, National Ballet dancer Sonia Rodriguez, remains home in Toronto while Browning drives the Tilden rent-a-highway from Buffalo to Rochester, or wherever.

''We're starting to talk about slowing things down. Maybe in a few years, we'll try something different. Yeah, kids,'' he said.

''I wanta get going pretty soon. Most of my friends already have 'em. They're all turning weird on me,'' Browning laughed.

But you sense any break could be temporary. Financial rewards are ample, and Browning's still swamped by up to 8,000 fan letters a year, most from his new constituency.

And when asked about Stojko's temptation to pack in the Olympic grind, to follow Browning to the pro circuit, the kid snorted:

''Retire? You don't have to retire in our sport. Look at Toller Cranston, what is he, 48? I know this: Elvis will make up his own mind.''

So will the Caroline Kid.