Christopher Bowman March 30, 1967-January 10, 2008

Well, The Showman has died at the tender age of 40. He admitted to drug abuse earlier (cocaine being the culprit), and what he could have been. He tried coaching, but didn't have the discipline. What he did have, in huge amounts, was natural talent that could have taken him to incredible heights. But how far can talent get you? There is, in the end, the acceptance of hard work: as a principle, a responsibility, and a path to your true self.

In February 1991, I was sick with chicken pox for the first time in my life. I caught it from my friend Dianne, who was two years older than I. What a better way to convalesce than to sit home and watch Nationals in its entirety? I had been on the fence about returning to skating after an absence on the ice from 1985, the year I graduated grammar school. We had a pond that froze in the winter, so I spent much time there free. I knew the costs of skating at a rink and wondered if I should venture into the paying spectre of skating rather than the pond to which I could not return. I was a sophomore in college, and trying to catch up with my work as my body resembled that of a leper.

The night Tonya Harding landed her triple axel, my temperature soared to 104 degrees. However, that afternoon, I was lucky to see Christopher "The Showman" Bowman perform his short program in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Toller Cranston had taken him on as a student and, as he put it, "dipped" Christopher in black. Black costume, black skates--as is the norm for men--black hair dye. Since Toller is also a famed painter, he tried to emphasize not the importance of color, but its shades. Christopher's well-publicized break with Frank Carroll in 1990 caused Chris to start over and take a completely different approach to the shakiness of his career. Chris was 23 at the time, the absolute prime of a competitive skater's life.

Toller's struggles with Chris as a student is well-documented in his book, Zero Tollerance. He and Ellen Burka, worked tirelessly to discipline Chris into a champion, but it was all for naught. His drug habits (which were well-hidden given USFSA's non-random drug testing) never interfered during competitions. He binged, trained, then went clean again, quite the contradiction. Toller tired of him quickly, and sent him home at the end of 1991 to John Nicks, coach of Tai & Randy and Sasha Cohen.

Chris pulled out a silver medal from the sky in 1991. The choreography, music, editing and look is almost exact to Toller's own style. Had Chris trained a bit more? He would have been on top. Here is Chris's short program, one of the finest ever choreographed by Toller and Ellen Burka, his own coach. Toller knew what hard work and loyalty meant. Sadly, Christopher did not.

This past Thursday, Chris paid the price for his demons with his life at the age of 40. Toxicology tests will take time, but I can tell you that cocaine abuse wears away the lining of the heart. My mother knows this, since she triaged and helped mend many patients that passed through the Lutheran Medical Center emergency room when cocaine OD's were the rage back in the 80's.

A few coaches had privately said to me in the past that Chris would be lucky to make it to 40, since his drug and alcohol habit were quite well-known. You can't really hide anything when you skate all your life. Skaters know other skaters. It's a big sport, but a small world for us.

Anyway, here's a look back at 2 minutes and 30 seconds of liquid purity. It's to Rachmaninoff's Concerto #3, a favorite of mine and a rousing choice for well-linked choreography. Toller is truly a genius. I doubt Christopher believed that of his own talent.

You will be missed, Chris. And I will wonder what could have been. This program was one of the reasons I dragged my skates out of hiding and hit the ice on March 2, 1991. I don't regret my choice. Chris will never know that he had something to do with it.

May god hold him and bless him.