‘Why Can’t This Poor Guy Win This One Darn Race?’

He’s the Buffalo Bills.

A winner. A champion. A hell of a human being. Everybody who knows him admires him. Adversaries respect him. Year in, year out, he defeats them. He’s as good as anybody out there. He belongs out there on his sport’s biggest day. But does he win? At Winter Olympics XIV--no. Winter Olympics XV--no. Winter Olympics XVI--no. And now, Winter Olympics XVII--no.

People get sentimental about him. Just once, they want him to win. Behind his back, some call him a choker. He’s the best in the business. The U.S. coach calls him the “Carl Lewis of skating.” But he hasn’t won a gold, hasn’t won a silver, hasn’t won a bronze. The track’s either too soft or too hard. He’s either too distracted or too focused. He slips, he falls, he fails. He’s the Gerald Ford of skating.

Man, oh, man. Maybe Dan Jansen is a choker.

“It’s not a choke. It’s not, it’s not,” Pat Kelly is saying.

He is shaking his red-haired head. Pat skates for Canada. His dad was Red Kelly, the hockey great, the former Detroit Red Wing and Toronto Maple Leaf who later served in Parliament. Pat Kelly competed in Monday’s 500-meter men’s speedskating final here. His time was 37.07 seconds. Jansen’s was 36.68. Pretty close, which is crazy, because Pat is in Dan’s race, but he is not in Dan’s league.

Kelly says: “Your nerves just get going. Everybody has problems now and then. Dan Jansen’s the best skater in the world, and we all know it.”

Yeah. If only he could show it.

“Well, yeah,” Kelly says. “But I’m sure Dan isn’t going to kill himself over this.”

Of course not. Dan’s smart. Dan’s stable. As his coach, Peter Mueller, the man who compared him to Carl Lewis, pointed out, Dan Jansen is still the greatest sprinter in skating, still a perfect gentleman. As his best friend, skater Andrew Gabel, pointed out, Dan Jansen is still married to a lovely woman, still father to a lovely daughter.

He just isn’t an Olympic medalist. Again.

Jack Walters, who coaches Kelly and the Canadian team, can’t believe it.

“Dan Jansen has been in, what, 300 races? He’s been the most consistent skater in the world. But he’s stayed a nice guy with the same size head. It’s almost like everyone wants him to win--even the people racing against him.

“Why can’t this poor guy win this one darn race?”

Sean Ireland, the Canadian who skated alongside Jansen this time, couldn’t believe it, either.

“I didn’t see him slip,” he said. “I just saw some chunks flying. I heard some major scratching going on, like ice breaking. It sounded like a major slip to me.

“What happened? Did he say?”

Yes, he said.

Jansen said he wasn’t sure what happened. He said the ice was a little hard. He said he was skating fine. He said he felt great. He said he slipped around Turn 3, which had never given him any trouble before. He said, “That’s why I can’t believe it.” He said, “Without the slip, I win.”

Maybe it just isn’t meant to be, he said. Funny, that’s what the Buffalo Bills said.

Jansen follows pro football. He even wore a Carolina Panthers’ cap--it’s an NFL expansion club--after Monday’s race. And he handled the situation as graciously as the Bills did, handled the disappointment.

Having had so much practice.

“Who I feel sorry for is my family,” Jansen said.

Not for yourself?

“No. Maybe later.”

On Valentine’s Day, his heart was broken. Make that re-broken. The winning time was 36.33 seconds. He doesn’t slip, Dan Jansen beats 36.33, easy. One slip. One teensy slip. Not a stumble. Not a fall. A slip.

Dan Jansen said, “Four Olympics. I don’t get it. What is this?”