It’s a Leap for Kwan to Take

ST. LOUIS —  Despite the occasional appearance of a sequined lad tumbling across the ice as if falling off a bar stool, there are no drunk skaters here.

Advantage, ski team.

Unless gobs of gel count, there are also no competitors here being busted for using anabolic hair replenishment drugs.

Advantage, skeleton team.

The U.S. Figure Skating folks, after years of peddling tickets to soap operas, entered this week’s national championships in the unusual position of being something other than the most undisciplined Olympic discipline.

Then reigning champ Michelle Kwan injured her groin, leading to two questions.

Isn’t that, like, really painful?

And does this mean the best skater in U.S. history will not qualify for the Olympics?

The answer to the second question, to the delight of sponsors and sportswriters, has wrapped this week in a giant scrunchie.

She can’t. She shouldn’t. But she will.

Welcome back, controversy. Hello, headlines.

With her nine U.S. titles, five world championships and two Olympic medals, Kwan could have skated around the Savvis Center rink this week to organ music, clutching the hands of a pimply-faced beau, taking breaks for giant pretzels and still won.

But the problem is, she says she can’t skate. Not like her competitors, anyway. She’s been injured twice in the last four months, hasn’t competed in a real event in nearly a year, and hasn’t skated on the regular circuit in three years.

In her last official competition, last March, she finished fourth in the world championships, failing to win a medal there for the first time in a decade. In her most recent exhibition, in December, she couldn’t even land one triple jump.

So, last week, Kwan withdrew from the one meet that essentially determines the three Olympic spots.

Then, this week, she petitioned to be allowed on the Olympic team anyway.

Talk about a leap. If she had made these kind of jumps during previous Olympics, she wouldn’t have been punked by kiddies Tara Lipinski and Sarah Hughes.

Since the rules technically only guarantee the winner here a nomination to the Olympic team, officials could dump the runner-up or third-place skater and insert Kwan.

It’s a rule that has been used before. Back in 1994, ironically, Kwan was dumped for injured Nancy Kerrigan. But that was the year that Kerrigan showed up for nationals and was kneecapped by Tonya Harding’s gang.

Kwan hasn’t been assaulted by anything other than age.

She’s 25. She’s been skating competitively for 18 years. Although her persona is the portrait of grace, her body is as worn as the ice after a King-Duck game.

Kwan is Brett Favre, begging to be allowed back in the playoffs. Kwan is Willie Mays, running out to center field for the Mets.

She has done so much for skating, she is certainly owed a nice farewell party, but should the Olympics be that place?

In the minds of the sequins-for-brains skating officials, yes.

Instead of practicing that rarely used martial art of Tell Kwan No, the bosses are probably going to add her to the team.

After Saturday’s finals determines the three best skaters in this country, they are going to unceremoniously dump one of them for a woman who hasn’t recently shown their skill or commitment.

They won’t trash Sasha Cohen, who owned the ice during Thursday’s short program and has a big enough lead that even politics can’t dent.

But both runner-up Emily Hughes and third-place Bebe Liang, with their inexperience and lack of commercial appeal, are fair game. So, too, are fourth and fifth place Kimmie Meissner and Alissa Czisny.

“You have to understand, Michelle is a worldwide legend, when she steps on the ice, everyone knows who that is, Michelle Kwan,” said her former coach, Frank Carroll.

To which I say, big whoop.

Four years ago, she was still Michelle Kwan, and she was still beaten in Salt Lake City by an unknown Sarah Hughes, Emily’s big sister.

And, yes, that winter at Staples Center, Sarah Hughes finished third in the trials.

Four years later, does Kwan’s commercial appeal still outweigh the chance that one of the young American stars can wow the world and take skating -- which is wilting this week with small crowds and little buzz -- into a new era?

“I think the young girls would be much more excited to go,” Cohen said. “There’s nothing like your first Olympics. It’s like your first trip to Disneyland. It’s magic. I would like as many girls as possible to have that experience.”

And when one of them can’t go?

“It’s hard for the girls here.... It’s hard for everyone here,” Cohen said. “Whoever doesn’t get to go is going to be devastated.”

But U.S. Figure Skating folks see it differently.

When they see Kwan, they see tradition, they see legacy, they see

Entering these games, because folks only pay attention to this stuff once every four years, Kwan is the most recognizable U.S. athlete, the face of all the commercials, the darling of all the sponsors.

Allowing Kwan to skate might cost them integrity, but to stop her could ultimately cost them millions, so you know what that means.

“She belongs because of what she has proven,” admitted Carroll with a small grin, “but, also, for financial reasons.”

Appallingly, delightfully, only in figure skating.