But what does that mean for you? And why? What makes those days so special?
For me, the Glory Days of figure skating were when it was generally acknowledged, and valued, that the sport involved performance, emotion and artistry, as well as incredible athleticism. And the second mark (artistic interpretation) was the tie-breaker, so if you wanted to be the best, you developed artistry. But you had to have the technical, you had to keep up.
The great thing is that that kind of skating still exists. People still believe in it, and many skaters still aspire to it. I would argue that all the micro-adjustments to the COP rules over the years happen because people (ISU) want the judging to reflect it. To reflect what? The It Factor.
The best skating programs, for me, are when skaters demonstrate technical prowess, but the techniques serve the emotion, the musical moods, and the connection with the audience. I'm not arguing whether it's revolutions in the air vs. spins, steps and edges. All the tricks and skills serve the performance. The jumps, spins, and steps are planned to express the music and emotion, not the other way around.
Nina Mozer said fairly recently that many skaters see a program as performing elements, with some skating in between -- when it should be the opposite. I agree. Elena Bechke said last month that a program needs to have wholeness and be an entity. (She made a circle with her hand.) She may have said like a poem, or I might have supplied that word. A poem, a song, a story, a feeling.
Something complete unto itself in which the skaters express that something. It can be anything, as long as the skaters mean what they're expressing and it comes from the inside out. They revel in the jumps and other athletic tricks, but it's all connected by what lies underneath: the unspoken, the emotion, the movement, the heart and soul. The impulse behind the desire to skate.