The Cutting Edge Page #2

I can think of another word for it.

-ls that what you told him?

-It's a big secret?

-Who do you think you are?

-I know exactly who I am.

A guy who came

a long way for lunch.

Please don't let me keep you

from the trough.

I'm sorry, buddy. I wouldn't wish this

on a snake. I'm out of here.

Enough.

Introduction is over.

Conversation finished.

Mouths closed.

Ears to be opened.

Pairs means two.

You have no partner.

You're skating nowhere.

And where are you going?

Oh, back to Siberia?

Skating on small pond

is big excitement.

Believe me, Gretzky...

...I am last person

who's coming to look for you.

Good.

We skate.

You are taking her left hand,

and your right hand is at her waist.

Good. The line is beautiful.

Now I am counting a beat.

You push off on four.

Katya will lead.

Hey, hold on.

What's the deal with these...

...claws up front here?

-ls toe pick.

-Toe pick?

Let me guess. It has something

to do with personal hygiene.

-I wouldn't let that get in your way.

-I don't let anything get in my way.

Count it off.

And one and four.

Good. Good. Head up. Yes.

Arms up. Katya, keep in line with him.

Is not race, Katya.

Together. Together.

-What, you shower once a week?

-ls that an invitation?

Douglas, bend knees more.

Good.

Hey. Hey.

Oh, sh*t.

Toe pick.

Katya, lift arms, please.

Go on. Lift arms.

Douglas, please to pick her up.

-Yeah?

-Yes.

Pick up.

Okay. Enough.

-We are finish.

-I told you this was ridiculous.

Would you please put me down?

You-- You cretin.

Guess that move needs some work.

What a waste of good ice.

Ridiculous.

Stare at it long enough, you'll start

to see an Olympic gold medal in there.

Jack Moseley. Sit down.

Sit down, please.

Look, I've spoken with Anton.

First of all, the simple fact

that he brought you out--

You should feel proud.

I mean, we're talking...

...about probably the greatest

judge of skating talent in the world.

Central Soviet Army Sports Club,

Moscow lce Ballet, the works.

I saw you skate in Calgary.

You were a great,

great hockey player.

Don't feel as though this were

a complete waste of time.

I mean, it was worth a shot.

-What, the eye?

-No, the eye's not a problem.

Is it your daughter?

Kate is Kate.

She's an only child,

raised without a mother.

The strain of competition....

Sudden changes tend

to bring out...

...her color.

Is that what that was?

Frankly, the idea's just

a little too bizarre for me.

I believe you're on a 1 0:30 flight,

first class.

-There's a check for your trouble.

-This is called giving me a shot?

I don't have time to screw around.

I can't afford to be wrong about you.

We were 45 seconds away

from the gold medal.

And our boy dropped the ball.

That goddamn glass box

is empty for one reason:

We can't find a go-to guy.

Thirty-five male skaters.

These boys have been doing this

for years and couldn't cut it.

Wagner...

...no stamina.

Myersohn, no rhythm.

Leone, Parnes, Hudler.

Not one single pressure-player

in the bunch.

Lucky shot.

Double or nothing.

You're on.

Katie, there you are.

Hi. I was just coming

to say goodbye.

Hold that thought.

Doug's staying with us for a while.

-Good talking to you, Jack.

-Doug.

Catch your act tomorrow.

It's the end of the line, honey.

If we're working together,

try being polite.

You won't be here long enough

to make it worth the effort.

-Think I can't put up with your sh*t?

-I don't think you can skate.

There's two things I do

really well, sweetheart.

And skating's the other one.

God. You really are a Neanderthal.

I hate to tell you,

but I'm from Minnesota.

That's south of Neanderthal.

What do you do for fun,

polish your knife collection?

I'm sure there's nothing I do

that you'd find exciting.

I don't open beer bottles

with my toes.

I don't sit around and count

what's left of my teeth.

Hey, I don't even enjoy

a good tractor-pull.

Limited existence,

but I've gotten used to it.

Life of the party.

Place must be crawling with guys.

As a matter of fact,

I do have a boyfriend.

A rough gig. You keep him

chained up in the basement?

Hale, at the moment, is working

in my father's London office.

He's an M.B.A.

Harvard. You might've heard of it.

They do have a hockey team.

Must be a very smart guy.

First position.

Bet you look good

from a few thousand miles away.

Okay, Douglas.

Come. Shoulders back.

Good, good. Now, chest out.

Yes. Shoulders back. Head higher.

When we're through, can we teach it

how to breathe with its mouth closed?

Don't quit your day job.

Man and woman

together make flower.

Douglas, you are stem.

Katya, you are petal.

Together, we make flower.

Toe pick.

Toe pick.

Toe pick.

Toe pick.

Whoa. Dorsey back to Gretzky,

over to Esposito.

LaFontaine to Dorsey.

Dorsey to Gretzky.

Gretzky to Dorsey.

Dorsey shoots. He scores.

Yes.

If you're bored, why not read?

-What, you mean a book?

-That's a traditionally accepted format.

Is this the beginning

of a conversation here?

I was just simply asking

if you knew how to read.

Yes. Doug can read.

What was the last book you read?

You were in college.

Last thing I read was a letter

canceling my scholarship...

...when I couldn't play anymore.

-Okay. High school.

-I was a hockey player.

The only thing I had to read

was a scoreboard.

-And they graduated you?

-They revered me. I was a god.

What a tragic commentary

on our times.

State championships,

my last game...

...three hundred people carried me

around their shoulders on the ice.

It took the state police

two hours to break it up.

What were you planning on doing

when your gladiating days were over?

You can bet your tights I never thought

I'd work in a freak show like this.

I'm surprised you don't chuck it all

and start your own think tank.

So where'd you matriculate from?

You were in college?

I had tutors.

Excellent tutors.

Would you please find someplace

else to put your clubs?

Man, would I love

to see you play hockey.

Any day.

You can do better than that.

Come on.

Hey.

Come on.

That's one.

Come on, take it.

Cut it out.

That's two.

Stop it, you--

Three.

Four.

You make me ill.

It's not like his nose was perfect.

He's the one who wanted to play.

He's like those morons

who insist you hit them...

...in the stomach

as hard as you can.

I don't know why

I'm explaining this to you.

All I did was play his stupid game.

Next you'll be telling me

how guilty I sound.

Is not guilt.

Well, at least we agree on that.

Is fear.

You've gotta be kidding me.

What do I have to be afraid of?

Because finally you have

found yourself a partner.

Oh, my God. I thought you said

it was just his nose.

-What? What's wrong?

-He's all yours.

Toe pick.

What's her problem?

I think she is nervous

about rematch.

Kate.

You want my hands where?

You gotta be kidding.

-How am I doing?

-Maybe in about five years...

...you'll get it up to half-speed.

Hey.

Hey, come on.

Douglas? Douglas, come back.

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