A clean sheet of ice

Little kids like to watch the Zamboni.

I suppose it's the novelty of a large vehicle driving around indoors, or the funny shape, with the driver perched on the back like a hood ornament with agoraphobia.

I like what the Zamboni leaves behind.

A fresh, clean, untouched sheet of ice is a magical place. Midday, the rinks are empty, and the sheet stays clear. If you're the first one there, or the only one, your movement is imprinted. You see how you unconsciously match stroke for stroke. You start to consciously trace it, counting laps.

Once around, twice, three, four times around and the strokes line up without your really trying. On a clean sheet of ice you can feel the glide and hear the push and empty your mind, so that your mind is a clean sheet as well, with nothing but the rumble of the blade to hear and the print of the blade to see.

***

I like to trace the first 5 figures-- outside circle 8s, insides, threes to the center, serpentine left and right. Lay a figure, trace it twice, step over a blade length. Lay the figure, trace it twice, step over a blade length. And again, again, again.

When you're done, on that clean sheet of ice, you've laid a skaters' spirograph of traveling circles, clear and obvious on the shiny, untouched surface. Skill and error clear and obvious.

***
Standing on the fresh surface of an empty ice rink is the closest thing to infinity this side of orbit. The walls are far away, the ceiling immaterial, the white shiny surface blending into the boards and the glass barrier. You'll never have this much interior space to yourself anywhere else. Three quarters the size of a football field, and yet you can race all the way around in a few seconds. You'll feel the wind in your hair and on your face, but there is no wind that you don't bring yourself. Stop and the wind stops.

Except that when you stop, you don't stop. You keep gliding forward, leaving behind, just a trace.

A word about my home rink

Over the course of my career, I have taught at five different rinks, skated at another 3 or 4, and have worked with coaches from another 10.

This blog is a reflection of my experiences at all of those rinks. While my home rink necessarily has a strong influence on this blog, unless I specifically say that "this is my home rink" (for instance the Nutcracker posts), no single post is EVER about my rink only, and sometimes it's not about my rink at all.

I believe that there are problems and issues at my home rink, but having managed other recreational programs (not skating) I try not to speculate, especially in such a public forum, the reasons behind specific rink problems that I do not see being addressed. I try not to criticize my colleagues, who represent an amazing well of skating knowledge, although I know that sometimes my frustration will shine through. Sometimes I bring up problems from my rink where I am perfectly well aware of why that cannot be addressed in that context. However, as the blog is meant to have universal appeal, I figure you don't want to hear about our little issues, you want to hear about big issues.

More often, I bring up more universal problems that don't exist, or aren't critical, at my rink, but that I have observed elsewhere, or that a parent or skater has emailed me requesting that I address it.

The especially snarky posts are almost always meant to be humorous, although sometimes I strike a nerve. You can tell, because they will be tagged "humor."

I've worked at my home rink for more than 10 years. If it was all that bad, I'd have left.

UPDATE: It got bad. I left.

The cost of coaching

We talk a lot about the high cost of learning to skate. But what about the cost of being a skating coach? Here's the low down.

PSA membership: $120
PSA continuing ed (ratings requirement) $40 to $300 (depending on if there are events in your area, otherwise you have to pay for travel)
Liability insurance: $85
USFS membership: $65
USFS background check $43
USFS coaching certification (tests through PSA) $75
ISI membership $65
ISI background check (same info, different company) $40
Red Cross First Aid certification: $40 (actually $120, but you only have to do it every 3 years)

That's $610 to $870, equivalent of up to 2 months of class take-home pay (assuming 14 hours of classes at $12 to $20/hour, which is what a lot of rinks pay, even for nationally rated coaches). Rinks do not cover this expense. One rink I worked for allowed one $50 credit per year for an educational event.

Coaches pay all these fees out of pocket, plus their own health care, retirement, and equipment. There is no positive benefit to covering these expenses like an effort to help coaches form unions so that they get guaranteed income, pension and health benefits, and job protection.

Coaches are all subject to forced lay offs several times a year when the rink shuts down, which can also impact your private lesson income, and if your regular classes happen to fall on a holiday, tough luck. You can get credentialed out the wazoo and never get a raise.

There is a punitive aspect-- if you don't get credentialed you cannot take students through testing or competition, and there is a movement afoot to make even baby coaches jump through these hoops.

Coaches complain about this system a lot, and rightly so. USFS, PSA and ISI need to add positive benefits to the high cost of being ethical in this business by pressuring rinks and clubs to treat coaches like the highly qualified professionals that they are.