VANCOUVER — On a day that was supposed to be about the triumph of the Olympic spirit, tragedy all but snuffed the flame.
Nodar Kumaritashvili, a 21-year-old luger from the former Soviet republic of Georgia, was killed Friday in a stomach-turning high-speed crash on a rocket-fast track that critics had already warned was pushing athletes to the limit.
The Georgian was coming around the final 270-degree turn, where speeds approach 140 km/h, when he flipped off his sled and hurtled into one of the unpadded pillars that support the canopy above the finish area.
Hours after the accident, the suddenly sombre mood of a nation that had been poised for a 17-day party was captured perfectly in a brief public appearance by Jacques Rogge, the president of the International Olympic Committee.
“It’s been difficult to stay composed,” a visibly emotional Rogge told a packed news conference.
“This has been a very sad day.”
It wasn’t supposed to be.
It was to be about the final leg of the Olympic torch relay, which continued its slow march to the opening ceremonies along the picturesque waterfront of English Bay, brushing along the way with both superstardom and Vancouver’s entrenched protest culture.
It was also to be about the top-secret opening-ceremony spectacle set to transpire later Friday at downtown’s billowy B.C. Place.
California Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger was part of the star power on hand, carrying the flame briefly Friday in what had been billed as a demonstration of international unity between Canada and the United States.
Long after the man locals dubbed “the Torchinator” had passed along his precious cargo, however, the relay was delayed by anti-Olympic activists who blocked the downtown route, forcing the flame to make a minor detour.
A few dozen protesters, many carrying signs decrying the Games for one reason or another, were waiting for the relay at Victory Square, a small park in the city’s Downtown Eastside.
The park is also home to the city’s cenotaph, where veterans in full uniform awaited the flame, with one set of bagpipes at times drowning out chants of “No Olympics on stolen native land.”
A group of protesters sat in the middle of the road, standing down more than half a dozen police officers on horseback and several others on motorcycle and bicycle for about 10 minutes.
Eventually, the relay turned and diverted its route by a block.
“I think that the torch needs to be run right off the road,” said one of the protesters, Lauren Gill, after the torch disappeared around a corner.
“We’re basically standing up and saying, ’No, we’re not going to accept this, we’re not going to accept that torch coming through here and the Games being held in our city.”
At one point, the father of legendary hockey player Wayne Gretzky carried the torch along a downtown street, with hundreds of his son’s fans in tow in what felt like a sort of pilgrimage to the Great One.
Gretzky Sr. waited for the flame to arrive while posing for dozens of photos with a steady stream of people who wanted a picture with a member of what many consider Canada’s first hockey family.
“I just can’t find words to describe it,” Gretzky, dressed in the trademark white torchbearer uniform and red Olympic mittens, said after his run.
“I’m 71 years of age, and to look around and see all you wonderful people, it’s incredible, I just about started to cry.”
By midday, the mood had changed.
John Furlong, president of the Olympic organizing committee known as VANOC, was no less shaken than Rogge, describing Kumaritashvili as a spirited young man whose “magnificent occasion” at the Olympics had been snatched cruelly away.
“We are heartbroken beyond words,” Furlong said. “It’s not something I am prepared for, or anything I ever thought I would need to prepare for.”
The slider, a blur in his black-and-blue racing suit and white helmet, went high in the corner, banking left. His sled swooped out from under him, hit the inside wall and Kumaritashvili flew through the air, turning backwards as he struck the square support stanchion lining the outside of the track.
There was a collective gasp on the finish dock from officials and athletes as the crash was beamed on the large-screen TVs.
The screens were immediately turned off as crews raced down the track to the stricken racer.
The track is considered the fastest in the world. For some athletes, it’s too fast.
“This is a terrible accident,” said Josef Fendt, president of the International Luge Federation. “This is the very gravest thing that can happen in sport, and our thoughts and those of the ‘luge family’, are naturally with those touched by this event.”
Medics were seen performing mouth to mouth on Kumaritashvili, his helmet still on, face up on the cement beside the track and the ambulance.
Medics administered CPR to Kumaritashvili before he was lifted into an ambulance. An air-rescue helicopter arrived some eight minutes after the crash. The slider was taken to a medical facility at the athletes village south of Whistler.
Training was suspended indefinitely. Members of the International Luge Federation were called for a briefing and team captains from each nation were asked to attend a meeting. VANOC officials issued a release saying an investigation was taking place to “ensure a safe field of play.”