Spin Control

Copyright 2001 The Tribune Co. Publishes The Tampa Tribune

It's all about artistry for professional skater Scott Hamilton, who says goodbye Friday night to the Tampa area fans who adore him.

TAMPA - After 33 years of pounding, spinning, aerials and axels, skater Scott Hamilton talks about pain with remarkable nonchalance.

And yet it's enough to make listeners wince.

"Yeah, it's the first season with the new ankle," says Hamilton, who is on his farewell tour with Stars on Ice, the skating extravaganza that stops Friday night at the Ice Palace. He's referring to a recent surgery to restore the injured tissue and immobilized bones that once locked up his left ankle, show after show, day after day.

"That ankle still has its own personality. But the physiotherapist who travels with us is a genius, and he's been working on it for days.

"So what happens? Right before the end of the show last night I hear this loud pop as I hit the ice. I mean, a really loud "POP.' And today my ankle is pain-free again. Guess the bones finally found where they were going."

It seems a strange statement, coming from someone who has always appeared to have near-complete control of his bones, along with the rest of his body - at least when he was on the ice. That's where he earned Olympic gold after world championship after standing ovation as one of the greatest figure skaters who has ever lived.

But in fact, that 5-foot-3 body has been cursed and blessed throughout Hamilton's 42 years. Initially, he approached the frozen rink as a diversion from a childhood digestive disorder that stunted his growth and was briefly misdiagnosed as cystic fibrosis. In May, after 20 years on the amateur and professional circuit, he will leave the tours as a survivor of testicular cancer and an unlikely role model.

AT LEAST, from Hamilton's perspective. The Ohio native gets downright uncomfortable when someone mentions the whole "role model deal." He prefers to talk about trying to be a good citizen, to set a good example and, if people want to jump to their own conclusions, well, OK.

The subject of skating is much closer to Hamilton's heart - and head.

"I hate to be the grumpy old man, and I know that now is not my time, so it's not really fair to judge it. But lately, skating seems not to be about spectacle or artistry ... it's all about the jumps. You count the jumps and the failures. It's about who survives the minefields. A lot of skaters will never really understand the rest of it."

Present company excepted, of course. Hamilton, who won Olympic gold in 1984, is quick to compliment his fellow skaters on this tour. That cast includes Olympic champions Tara Lipinski, Kristi Yamaguchi and Ilia Kulik, as well as four-time world champion Kurt Browning.

It may not have happened overnight, but they all "get it," Hamilton explains. They get the liberation, the individuality, the pride of professional skating. These skaters learned to expand their artistic boundaries beyond a triple axel.

"Sometimes it's hard to let go of the feeling amateur skaters have that it's all about the jumps," he says. "Yet as a professional skater, the seconds you spend in the air doing a jump are really like the whipped cream and cherries on a sundae. The whole gooey sundae is what audiences really want."

Indeed, Hamilton says they've been eating it up for years, the entertainment that ice shows bring.

And yet Hamilton is the one so many remember from stage productions and Emmy Award-winning specials. There are the Charlie Chaplin bit, the hapless golfer, the mesmerizing routines to music from "Hair" and "The Wizard of Oz." Hamilton's favorites include a character he calls Wayne Fontaine - "a lounge lizard type" - and the spoofs of opera and ballet stars.

So what if he had to wear the powder-blue tights to pull it off? "I'm not so proud that I can't make fun of myself," he says, laughing.

He's also not so egocentric as to think the show won't go on without him. The marquee of major talent is bigger than ever, and Hamilton believes that no one skater could fill a house these days.

ALSO AWARE that male skaters are treated significantly better than when he started his career.

"Oh, yes, the sport has always been dominated by females, and I never wanted to be America's sweetheart," he says, laughing loudly. "I really had a massive chip on my shoulder ... and when people used to talk about sex discrimination in the workplace, I'd say, "Cry me a river, buddy.'

"But slowly those things have eroded. Male skaters are more established. I tried to develop a rapport with people."

Hamilton's rapport may have been solidified by suffering. Diagnosed with testicular cancer in 1997, he admits that he - like many men - was lackadaisical about his health, even ignoring the initial symptoms.

Routine checkups are now part of his health regimen, and they are central to any medical advice he reluctantly gives: "Just go in, get regular checkups," he says. "And if you catch cancer early, so much of it can be almost nothing."

Hamilton's achievements incorporate more than 60 titles, awards and honors. In 1990, he was inducted into the U.S. Olympic Hall of Fame and in 1997, he was the first figure skater inducted into the Madison Square Garden Walk of Fame. That accolade is awarded to luminaries who have appeared at the New York City venue more than 50 times - a rare nod he shares with Muhammad Ali, Michael Jordan, the Rolling Stones and Frank Sinatra.

And though he may be retiring from the professional tour, Hamilton will certainly not disappear from the public eye. He is lined up to work the 2002 Olympics as a commentator, and there is talk of a Broadway ice show, even an acting gig.

There is also his ongoing philanthropic work with organizations such as St. Jude Children's Research Hospital in Memphis, Tenn., and the Scott Hamilton C.A.R.E.S. Initiative.

"Skating is all about communicating a mood or a theme to take people to another place ... without taking myself too seriously, that is. I never do. Never will."