LILLEHAMMER: ’94 WINTER OLYMPICS : A Magic Moment, Missed

Every day I wake up thinking Tonya Harding is going to pop out of a hole like a groundhog, which means six more weeks of Winter Olympics.

Tonya, Tonya, Tonya.

I came 8,000 miles and nine time zones to watch the Olympics, and I just can’t write another whole story about this woman today, OK? Maybe tomorrow.

Tonya, Tonya, Tonya.

Readers even wrote letters to my editor, accusing me of having a crush on her.

A crush on her? At times I wish an avalanche would crush her.

Tonya, Tonya, Tonya.

My assignment Friday was her first big photo-op, fire-away, hit-me-with-your-best-shot news conference. You know, here I am, Tonya Harding, love me, hate me, hold me, thrill me, hallelujah, let’s all get happy, we’re gonna chase all the blues away.

I went. I took down every word. I heard Tonya’s voice, but saw her coach’s mouth move. I haven’t seen ventriloquism like this since Edgar Bergen.

It’s a cute act, I’ll give them that.

Tonya sits to Diane Rawlinson’s right. Ten cents says she can’t talk while Rawlinson is sipping a glass of water.

It’s like watching a bad beauty pageant. Tonya is 23, but the questions are just too, too tough for her.

“Tonya, have you been able to focus on your goal?”

“I’ve been able to focus on my goal because . . . “

Oh, Tonya, Tonya, Tonya.

“Tonya, if you could be any tree . . . “

Nah. Never mind.

And then there’s this new bit.

Any time she’s cornered, Tonya now mentions God or country. Which is fine, except since everyone first began following Tonya Harding in figure skating, the number of times she mentioned God or country before this February came to somewhere in the general vicinity of zero.

Now, though, wow. This kid doesn’t miss a trick. She’s here because she wants to win one for the ol’ US of A, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice and it’s a grand old flag, it’s a high-flying flag.

I mean, the woman sat here Friday and said she’s made an arrangement with this litter box of a TV show called “Inside Edition” and you know what she said she would do with some of the money? Institute a “Tonya Harding Trust Fund for Special Olympics in Oregon,” said her incredible self, Tonya Harding, bless her heart.

Any day now, I promise you, this woman is going to adopt a stray Norwegian puppy.

So, enough about her. No more today.

I have some unfinished business.

His name is Dan Jansen and he has had the longest run of bad luck of anybody since David Janssen, the old TV fugitive.

He is the sweetest guy on skates and he has been trying to win one for his country for 10 years. His wife wears a little American flag sticker on her cheek and his baby daughter bounces on her mommy’s knee wearing a bib that reads, “Go, Daddy, Go!”

And he won the 1,000 meters in Olympic speedskating Friday in world-record time.

I went to every race Dan raced in Sarajevo, Yugoslavia. Didn’t win.

I went to every race Dan raced in Calgary, Canada. Didn’t win.

I went to every race Dan raced in Albertville, France. Didn’t win. I went to Dan’s first race in Norway. Didn’t win.

Friday, I missed Dan’s race because I had to go hear what Tonya had to say. Tonya, Tonya, Tonya.

I came 8,000 miles and nine time zones and missed it.

What I’d like to say is that I love the guy.

But someone will accuse me of having a crush on him.