Katarina Witt took her golden place, but who was that right behind her? Not Debi Thomas, who stumbled and settled for bronze. Instead, local girl made good as Canada's Elizabeth Manley sparkled to the

By Jill Smolowe

As beguiling as she is fickle, Bizet's Gypsy Carmen is a temptress whose passions run the emotional alphabet from A to Z. Even on ice. For Debi Thomas, the accent is on P. Her Carmen is usually powerful, plucky, practical and pretty. Katarina Witt's Carmen is a study in S, at once sensuous, seductive, stylish and shrewd. But last Saturday night, when the long-awaited skate-off between the two Carmens got under way in the Olympic Saddledome, America's sweetheart proved an unexpected B: a bobbly bundle of nerves capable only of bronze.

Thomas had aimed to evoke the fiery spirit of the composer's music right from the start. But as she opened her 4-min. program with a daring combination of back-to-back triple toe loops, she mistakenly touched both feet down on the second jump. That tiny error seemed to sap her usual strength. When, midway through her routine, she faltered and put a hand on the ice, it began to feel as though the Titanic were sinking. Witt, conversely, had held tough, her Carmen enticing and flirting shamelessly. Radiant in a red costume, Witt thrived on audience adulation, tossing provocative smiles. Though she substituted a double jump for one of her five triples, Witt was firmly in command. Her beauty and charisma dominated, even as she lay outstretched on the ice in a pose of death. In the end, Witt's was indisputably the Carmen of choice. By taking the gold, Witt became the second woman ever to secure consecutive Olympic figure-skating titles.

Though Witt won, she was not the judges' favorite Saturday night. That distinction went to perky Elizabeth Manley of Canada. Manley, who has a history of inconsistent performances, was all confidence despite a brush with the flu earlier in the week. Smiling broadly as she landed a triple jump early on, Manley skated an exciting, lively routine that drew her compatriots to their feet. The experts echoed the hometown excitement. Seven of the nine judges ranked Manley first on the free-style program, which counts for 50% of the total score. It was enough to give Manley the silver, leaving Thomas to place a disappointing third.

Still, Thomas deserved credit for maintaining considerable poise in the face of all the preshow hype, as did Witt. Everywhere the rival ice queens went, cameras snapped, reporters prodded, fans pursued. Some excess was inevitable, the inescapable glamour of a competition that features svelte young women in scanty costumes. As Thomas sardonically remarked, "It's definitely a Miss America sport."

At least part of the hyperbolic hoopla, however, was fashioned by the skaters and their determined entourages. In the days leading up to the final competition, controversy erupted over Witt's outfits, notably a blue costume that some thought was sliced provocatively high along the thigh. "We're here to skate in a dress, not a G-string," huffed Manley's coach, Peter Dunfield. Witt met the commotion with calm. "We wear costumes that enhance the music," she said. "Why shouldn't we stress what is attractive?" But the flap seemed to give Witt and her coach second thoughts. In the short program, the costume appeared modified, with a heavier fringe of blue feathers along the hip.

Witt, who aspires to an acting career, thrived on the attention. Thomas, on the other hand, tried to deflect publicity, stating repeatedly -- and as it turned out, correctly -- that it was ridiculous to speak of the competition as if it involved only two skaters. "Every time I open the paper, they're trying to make this thing between me and Katarina," she said. "It bugs me. We're just two people."

Someone should have told Witt. During Thursday night's short program, she placed herself ostentatiously at the rink's edge as Thomas deftly executed the seven required moves. "I was aware of it because she was standing right there," Thomas said. "Katarina watches all the time. Maybe she was trying to psych me out, but it doesn't work. It just makes me fight harder." That night Thomas nailed her performance, hitting every jump perfectly and engaging the audience with her megawatt smile.

Coming into the final program, Thomas held a slim lead over Witt, with Manley a distant third. Relying on the same ritual that had brought her so much luck two nights earlier, Thomas pounded the hands of Coach Alex McGowan with her fists. "This is your moment," he encouraged. "Now do it!" Alas for Debi, she didn't. Maybe it was the pressure. Maybe it was the ice, which she had complained about earlier in the week. Or maybe it was the fact that she skated last and had a hard time staying at her peak as the evening dragged on. Whatever it was, Thomas handled the outcome with grace. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she mouthed to McGowan as she skated off the ice. Minutes later she said, "I'm not going to make any excuses. It wasn't supposed to happen, I guess. But I tried." McGowan was more openly emotional. "I've never seen Debi skate like that before," he said. "It was very sad for me to see that."

The field featured 23 women, but only a handful delivered memorable routines. America's Jill Trenary offered an elegant performance that placed her fourth. (Caryn Kadavy, the most expressive of the U.S. skaters, was forced to withdraw from the competition with a 103 degrees fever.) The charmer was petite Midori Ito of Japan, only 18, who entranced the audience with her powerhouse jumps and girlish enthusiasm. As she concluded her routine with a gravity-defying triple Lutz, Ito shook her fists triumphantly above her head and burst into unabashed tears of delight. Though she finished fifth, Ito received a standing ovation -- something Witt did not earn.

The ice-dancing competition earlier in the week was a more predictable affair. As expected, the Soviets dominated, with three-time World Champions Natalia Bestemianova and Andrei Bukin claiming the gold. "B and B," as they are known, earned three perfect 6.0s for artistic merit from the panel of nine judges, delivering a theatrical long program that depicted the taming of a wild shrew. Heavily rouged and clad in garish black-and-gold costumes, the pair executed moves that were unarguably polished but at times bordered on the vulgar, particularly when Bestemianova repeatedly spread her legs and squatted.

The newest of the Olympic skating events, ice dancing is still struggling to define itself. The exquisite artistry of Britain's Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean, who took the gold in 1984 with their creative Bolero routine, seemed to point the sport in a new direction. But this year's competitors cleaved to more traditional ballroom steps. The silver-winning Soviet pair of Marina Klimova and Sergei Ponomarenko were elegant, and Bronze Medalists Tracy Wilson and Robert McCall of Canada were charming -- but neither couple took the sport anywhere it had not gone before.

That achievement belonged to the pair that finished eighth, Isabelle Duchesnay and her brother Paul. Competing for France, though the two were % raised in Quebec, they skated -- quite literally -- to a different drummer. Shrugging out of classical ballroom-style routines, the Duchesnays performed a savage rite to the primitive rhythms of tribal drums. Like Torvill and Dean, the Duchesnays nudged the rigid rules of ice dancing, maintaining a single mood throughout their routine. (Not surprisingly, Dean was their choreographer.) The audience roared its approval, but the judges were unusually divided, their scores ranging from 5.0 to 5.8. Other skaters rallied to the Duchesnays' defense. "We're a little braver and ready to be innovative now because of the Duchesnays," said American Joseph Druar.

Other changes may be in store for the loveliest of the winter sports. In May the International Skating Union will meet to decide what, if anything, to do about compulsory figures. Some skaters and officials argue that figures are tedious to perform and consume practice time that could be better devoted to freestyle skating. Critics would like to see the figures count for less than 30% of the final mark, or perhaps even dropped. Others counter that trying to skate without mastering figures is like trying to write without learning the alphabet.

Speaking of alphabets, after the world championships next month, Witt and her string of S's will probably head for the silver screen, while Thomas, who suits Carmen to a P, will study to become a physician. "I'm still alive," Thomas said firmly as her disappointing scores flashed. "I can get on in my life, and I'll be fine." Amid all the hype and cheers and tears, those words rang brave and sincere.

With reporting by Ellie McGrath/Calgary