22 years.  That's how long it had been before last night since an American man won Olympic figure skating gold by skating flawlessly, against a formidable competitor, and winning by the thinnest of margins.

I was a starry-eyed seven-year-old when Boitano bested Orser in the Battle of the Brians.   I am staring down the barrel of 30, and my first beloved sport has taken several beatings over the intervening years, as I detailed in this rather meandering post, written after Evan Lysacek won the 2009 World Championship.  My high, high praise of Evan at the time was: "Evan Lysacek--Someone fetch the smelling salts.  An American man has won the world title.  And a man actually skated LIKE A MAN.  About. Freaking. Time."

Everything I wrote there was true again last night.  Evan skated like a man, skated with perfect technique, skated a program rather than a string of elements under a system that is not set up to reward that, skated with strength, skated with joy, faced off against the reigning Olympic champ (who had abysmal technique but lots of elements, which the new system often rewards, and who was behaving  and continues to behave like a Stereotypical Snotty European Jerkoff From Central Casting) . . . and won.

It's been a rough few months for me and sports.  The 2009 World Series saw my Phillies lose to The Most Evil Franchise in the History of Sports (TM Bill Simmons), which also happens to be the favorite baseball team of The Bitch I Once Called My Best Friend.  Then the Saints, favorite football team of Said Bitch, won the Super Bowl.

Figure skating, as anyone who's followed the sport for more than five seconds knows, does not have a history of distinguishing itself in the realms of fair, consistent officiating or logical results.   Occasionally, things come out the way both the rules and common sense say they should, but it's definitely not the norm. 

Last night, though, the rules and common sense lined up.  Evan Lysacek--together with his coach Frank Carroll and choreographer Lori Nichol-- found a way to satisfy the insane "let's just count elements" new scoring system and still skate a program.  He gave the best performance--and won.  That was truly, truly special--historic in the sport, even.

And on a personal level, it was needed.  So, so needed.  Between my family situation and the World Series-Super Bowl double whammy, I needed a gift from the sporting gods.  While Evan was skating, my heart sped up on every jump, and I squealed and clapped at the end--haven't done either of those things in years, and definitely not since The Salt Lake Olympics Scandal.

While Plushenko skated, I noted every error and lack.  I knew he shouldn't win, but I knew he very likely might.  When his scores came up, I held my breath.  When Evan's victory was confirmed, I yelled "USA USA USA!"  I would have jumped around the living room, but I hurt my knee in an icy parking lot on Monday.  

When Evan was notified backstage, I grinned like a fool, and the tears pricked my eyes.  Then they cut to Plushenko being villainous, and I giggled.  Then I remembered that The Bitch Mentioned Above prefers Johnny Weir* among American figure skaters, and the tears started to fall.  In my heart, the cuts administered by the Yankees and the Saints got some salve.  And then Evan, beaming with joy and well-earned triumph, mounted the top step of the Olympic podium.  It really hit me then that it had been 22 years since the last time this happened for an American man, and the tears spilled over.  Then "The Star Spangled Banner" played.  

USA USA USA!!!!  Evan Evan EVAN!!!!

To Evan Lysacek for laying down the skate of his life, to Frank Carroll for teaching him, to Lori Nichol for brilliant design and strategy, to the judges for using the rules rather than being used by them, to Evgeny Plushenko for being a great villain, to Brian Boitano for the wonderful old memories that came flooding back . . .

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.  And congratulations.  And thank you.  So very, very much.

*To be fair, the people who are saying, "Weir got shafted" are not being entirely irrational.  Under the old judging system, and even under some early iterations of the current one, he'd have placed higher and maybe even medaled.  Like Evan, he actually skated a program, which most of the men placed in between them did not do, and which the current system doesn't necessarily reward.  This is not the fault of either Weir or the men whom the system rewarded.  It is, again, what makes Lysacek's achievement truly extraordinary.