Steve Milton had an alternate title for the memoir of Canadian Olympic and World champion ice dance team, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir, but the straightforward Tessa & Scott: Our Journey from Childhood Dream to Gold won out. Perhaps because the book is essentially a platform for the young skating stars to set the record straight. The history of their relationship, starting with their childhood partnering to what they now call a “business partnership,” is complied in their own words and dictated to Milton, who presents their story with the flare of a magazine article.
A figure skating fan practically since birth, Tessa and Scott’s career has been on my radar for five seasons, from their first year on the senior circuit, back when there was no international fan base to speak of and you had to piece their narrative together from random interviews. It’s amazing to see how far they’ve come. My favorite Christmas gift (and that’s up against season one of The Vampire Diaries on DVD), I read through this chronicle in small increments, ensuring it wouldn’t go by too fast.
Even though I was forewarned, the book is bigger than I expected, equivalent in size to that of a coffee table keepsake. There are pages and pages of pictures, some of which fans already have on their flash drives, but glossy and bound, the photographs take on a permanent quality. The Myra Klarman shots are stunning blown up, as is anything from Vancouver. The candids from their childhood, straight out of family photo albums, were obviously never-before-seen and a treat. In this way, it’s heavily geared toward the new-found “legion of fans” enamored with them and their skating.
What comes across throughout the book is the deep respect and affection Tessa and Scott have for each other. You don't always sense that between all ice dance couples. But Tessa and Scott grew up in small towns twenty minutes apart. The Virtue and Moir families are friends; Scott's aunt was their first pro when they were eight and ten years-old, respectively. They were raised together, both the youngest of big families, as much as in rinks across Canada.
The behind-the-scenes scoop was the most valuable aspect of the book to me. As a viewer, you think they did spectacular at 2008 Worlds or the most recent Canadians, for instance, but they’re ultra-competitive, perfection-oriented athletes, so their feelings on the events were very different. I liked Tessa’s analogy of the duck on the pond: serene above the surface, paddling furiously beneath the water. So much effort and time and sacrifice goes into their skating, and all we, the fans, witness is the payoff, the practiced presentation.
That applies most aptly to Tessa’s battle with chronic exertional compartment syndrome, a condition in her shins. Until now, the extent of that injury, and source of unbearable torture for her, was minimized or all-out cloaked from general knowledge. What she was able to accomplish, most notably an Olympic gold medal, while suffering to the point of tears, is nothing short of miraculous. Of course, now she’s had a second surgery, taking them out of competition all fall, but maybe she’ll finally be able to find relief from the pain.
Through everything, patriotic Tessa and Scott are humble and thankful, in essence, very Canadian. They really are the boy and girl next door. They underscore their celebrity and continually emphasize how they are just regular people who were blessed with opportunity (and a whole bunch of talent). But no one, not even the pair themselves, can deny their extraordinary, fourteen-years-and-counting, bond both on and off the ice. That was why Milton wanted “Together” to be the title of their book. They’ve encountered disappointments and relished comebacks; endured a heartbreaking estrangement a few years back that was tougher on them than it appeared to the outside world; and achieved the ultimate athletic pinnacle of success at an home Olympic Games. And they did it all…together.