ST. PAUL - They'd spent so much time over so many winters lacing up backstage together, warming up together, traveling on Uncle Sam's teams together, that it made perfect sense that they'd go into the United States Figure Skating Hall of Fame together.
Todd Eldredge and Paul Wylie belonged to the last Golden Era of American men's figure skating, which encompassed the '80s (starting with Scott Hamilton) and most of the '90s. It was an era that began with school figures and ended with quadruple jumps, an era of invention and flair and daring and charisma. An era when the Yanks, the Russians, and the Canadians had titanic battles at Olympus. An era that, sadly, is long gone.
"It was a remarkable time," Wylie said before last night's induction. "Between Brian [Boitano] and Chris [Bowman] and Todd, there were a lot of wonderful skaters."
Every year, a star had to be left home from the world championships. The 1988 nationals, which produced the Olympic team for Calgary (Boitano, Bowman, Wylie), were the best and deepest in history. The contenders, among them, won 15 Olympic and world medals and 13 national titles.
Eldredge was The Kid that year, just up from juniors, but he went on to set a standard for longevity and excellence, making three Olympic teams and winning six US crowns (one shy of the record) and as many world medals. "Everyone [else] got in and got out," he joked.
Year after year, Eldredge was there, with his soaring yet silky triple axels and his golfer's gift for course management. Nobody was better at avoiding the sport's traps and hazards and posting winning scores.
His crowning moment came at the 2002 nationals, a year after he'd emerged from a two-season sabbatical, when he dethroned skywalker Tim Goebel and became the oldest man (at 30) to win the title in 68 years. What Eldredge wanted was another shot at the only prize that had eluded him - an Olympic medal. "Getting what I didn't get," he said.
Eldredge didn't get it at Salt Lake, but he was satisfied, then and now. "I'm glad I stayed in," he said. "I'm glad I went. I have no regrets."
The Games are about two nights every four years, which Wylie discovered to his surprise and delight at Albertville, France, in 1992. He was 27 that year with a Harvard diploma on the wall and he'd never finished better than ninth at a global event. "Why are you here?" a
Wylie had been labeled a career underachiever who melted when the heat was turned up. But when he got to Olympus, he was transformed. Suddenly, he was hitting his jumps. "You're very dangerous," Russian coach Alexei Mishin told Wylie after watching him practice.
All he wanted was to finish in the top five. "Paul, you could win," coach Evy Scotvold told him. "I can't imagine that," Wylie replied. Yet after the short program, he was sitting in medal position and it spooked him. With Eldredge and Bowman out of contention, Wylie was America's only hope.
"So I went to a sports psychologist and I said, 'I don't want to choke,' " Wylie recalled. "He said, 'Go sit on your bed for half an hour and think about how your life will change if you win an Olympic medal.' So I thought, 'I'm just going to go for it and see what will happen.' "
Wylie went out and had the skate of his life, so ethereal and effortless that he sensed a divine hand. It should have been good enough for gold, but Ukraine's Viktor Petrenko had a better résumé and more political pull on the judging panel. Wylie, though, wasn't quibbling. How much of a Cinderella story, he asked his interviewers, do you guys want?
"Silver was so far beyond my wildest dreams," Wylie said. It was, indeed, a life-changing medal. "It was a tremendous personal victory for me. It was such a breakthrough. After that, I just saw myself differently."
Wylie turned pro, won the world title, and became a popular show skater. Eldredge still is performing with "Stars On Ice." "I'd like to do a few more years," he said. "As long as I can, and as long as people want to see me out there."
Last night, for both of them, was a touch of immortality. Boitano already is in the Hall of Fame and Bowman, had he been able to subdue his demons, almost certainly would have joined them. "Chris could go out and do anything," said Eldredge. "He could make it happen out of nothing."
There are no Bowmans in American skating now (although Johnny Weir comes close), no Boitanos, no Wylies, no Eldredges. The Golden Era has passed and the sport's structure and culture won't allow for another. But you can find it on YouTube.
John Powers can be reached at jpowers@globe.com.
