WHATEVER HAPPENED TO TONYA HARDING?

Jerry Harkins

Just prior to the 1994 Winter Olympics in Lillehammer, I wrote a short technical note commenting on some potential sources of systematic error in the judging of figure skating. In the process, I had occasion to make sympathetic mention of Tonya Harding, the lady who ultimately finished eighth and in tears. Since I have so little time for matters outside moral theology, I naturally assumed that those who supervise such things would take my insights to heart and that reform quickly would ensue. I missed the 1998 edition in Nagano and caught up with the sport during the 2002 games in Salt Lake City. I was, needless to say, disappointed.

While I was otherwise occupied, a fellow named Ottavio Cinquanta had been sent down from Central Casting to be the head Pooh-bah of the International (Ice) Skating Union. Imperial, dictatorial, condescending, arrogant, capricious and, of course, slightly stupid, he turned out to be a perfect choice for a sport that still keeps score with a system invented by the Red Queen. On his watch, we have been beset by one scandal after another, usually involving the judges or the judging. The most recent flap was caused by one Marie-Reine Le Gougne, a French judge who allegedly conspired to trade votes with the Russians. Maybe she also conspired with her French colleagues. Maybe she was merely pressured by the French, the Russians, the Mafia or the Vatican for all I know. No matter, the Canadian pair won pure and simple. That should have been obvious to everyone. Thus, the fact that the two conspirators were joined by three other judges from China, Poland and Ukraine to give the gold to the Russians is as revealing as the cheating itself. Le Gougne says, pressure or no pressure, the Russians were better and, naturally, the Russian judge agreed. So what we had was a majority of the judges reaching an obviously wrong but preordained conclusion. This happens regularly in the Supreme Court but, at least the justices explain their opinions, however wrongheaded, in writing.

Those of you old enough to remember Tonya Maxine Harding will recall that she placed fourth in the 1992 Olympics and was the U.S. National Figure Skating Champion in 1991 and 1994. But in the run-up to the 1994 games in Lillehammer, two of her hangers-on swatted her opponent, Nancy Kerrigan, on the kneecap with what was always referred to as a “black baton.” She was allowed to compete in the Olympics anyway where a hyped-up showdown between the two ladies—class versus trash—was sure to give the TV ratings a much-needed boost. She appeared in a purple polyester costume while Nancy wore white silk. There was never any thought that the judges would let Tonya take home a medal, and they did not disappoint. She finished eighth, skating her last program with a broken shoe lace. Nancy won the silver. Ironically, she, too, was screwed by a panel of judges who, with blithe disregard for reality, awarded the gold to Oksana Baiul of Ukraine.

But the Tonya story did not die after her fifteen minutes of exposure. As I wrote at the time, prosecutors in three jurisdictions could not wait to get their redemptive hands on her, believing she was fully complicit in the assault. Ultimately, Multnomah County, Oregon won the prize but had to settle for getting her to cop a plea to hindering their investigation of the whacking incident. It is not exactly clear why she was prosecuted in Oregon for a crime committed in Detroit, although it may have had something to do with the political ambitions of the Portland DA. She was given three years supervised probation, two fines totaling $150,000, 500 hours of community service, and $10,000 court costs. On top of that, the U.S. Figure Skating Association “stripped” her of her 1994 National Championship and banned her for life. As time went on, she accumulated a further share of life’s bitter pills — a miserable marriage to a beer-swilling, blood-sucking lout, the repossession of her pick-up truck, the need to auction off one of her skating costumes on e-bay and its failure to meet the reserve, an eviction from one apartment, and the depredations of late night comedians who turned her into an icon of white trash. In February 2000, she punched her boyfriend in the face and threw some rocks at his truck. She pleaded guilty to these sins and got two years probation, two 90-day sentences which were suspended except for three days in jail and 10 days on a work crew. Given this went down in Washington State, the work crew was probably not a chain gang. Part of the probation deal was the stipulation that she was not to drive or drink the whole time. Fourteen months later, though, she crashed her pickup truck into a ditch near a town called Battle Ground and failed a breathalyzer test. The Judge in the case, one Darvin Zimmerman, came under considerable local pressure to collect Columbia County’s pound of flesh which, in this case, comes to 167 more days in jail. While all this was transpiring, Tonya may have hit bottom when the Fox Network arranged a boxing match between her and Paula Jones. Paula, you may remember, was one of the blithe spirits of Bill Clinton’s springtime, and was a last minute substitute for Amy Fisher, the Long Island Lolita, whose parole board thought the whole affair an unseemly television spectacle. At least Tonya won—by a TKO in the third round. I did not watch the event but have been assured that the judging was scrupulously fair. A second bout, this time against one Samantha Browning, was fought in February 2003 on the same card as another ex-con, Mike Tyson. She lost a split decision. I take no position on the seemliness of having ex-cons slug it out on national television.

No one ever promised Ms. Harding a rose garden. Still, things might have been different. Tonya’s story might have—and at one time certainly would have—been read as a female Horatio Alger text: poor kid from an abusive background overcomes every obstacle and through grit and hard work emerges, if not triumphant, then well enough. A bit sappy, perhaps, but a lot closer to the mark than the Tonya-as-Tramp scenario. Sadly, the media are in the business of selling advertising space, not truth. And in the process of adding sizzle to the truth, they keep digging and picking and embellishing until the image they create becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. Tonya is no saint but listening to Shawn MacPhearson, the Assistant City Attorney of the great city of Camas, Washington excoriate her or Judge Zimmerman sternly threaten her, one recalls the trial of Joan of Arc and the tender mercies of an Inquisitor named Cauchon which, appropriately, means pig in French. One cannot help but wonder what Mr. McPhearson sees in his mirror each morning. Perhaps a future occupant of the oval office who saved the world from the wicked witch?

Tonya is a metaphor for life’s unfairness in a nation without effective or decent libel laws or without even a basic sense of decency. Like many athletes, she is poorly educated but by no means stupid, a distinction lost on our thought leaders. It goes without saying that she is talented, focused and not averse to hard work. In the face of adversity, she remains plucky and optimistic. It does not hurt that she looks good in a skimpy costume. But, by dint of fate, hers played out as the story of a woman abused by her parents, her husband, her state, the press and the governing body of her sport. We have created a sort of reverse Pygmalion—the other side of Eliza Doolittle—to fill a void in our tribal mythology.

Subsequent Events

Nine years after this was posted and twenty-four years after the notorious knee-capping incident, what passes for American thought leadership has revisited the Tonya Harding story and come to the conclusion that its previous judgement was perhaps too harsh and possibly even unfair.  The change of heart was brought about mainly by a well-received movie, I, Tonya, which has done well in the 2018 award season and confirmed by a lengthy and mostly sympathetic article in the New York Times of January 14, 2018 (Taffy Brodesser-Aknew, “Still Nowhere to Run").  Over the years, there have been other revisionist opinions but the combination of a feature film and the newspaper of record is likely to bring some semblance of justice to the much-maligned and very unlucky Ms. Harding.