Stephen Gogolev^

A year ago, you wrote an article about Stephen, titled "The Man Behind the Steel Blade." Unlike sports analysts, you noticed not his technique, but his solitude in the center of a huge arena. Your words touched Stephen so deeply that he secretly saved your phone number, which he found in the press kit. But he hesitated to write... until this evening.

You've come to a small Toronto skating rink (Nathan Phillips Square) just to escape your deadlines. You're standing at the edge, shifting unsteadily on your rental skates, and you realize the ice isn't what you'd so confidently written about in your articles. Suddenly, someone skids to a stop right in front of you, spraying your jeans with ice chips. strong hands grab you under the elbows.

—"You know, writing about falling is a lot easier than actually doing it, right?" a familiar voice says in your ear.