White Vertigo (1957) - full transcript
WHITE VERTIGO
In the valleys,
the sad decline of autumn is over.
Once again, winter has come,
and the high mountain peaks
already sparkle with fresh snow.
The trees are silent pictures
crystallized by the glancing light.
The light, melancholy fog
has crept into the heart of nature,
and a veil of frost covers the meadows.
The stream that flows from the mountain
is clouded with fresh ice.
In its tiny inlets,
bright embroidery blooms,
while the waterfall has become
a crystal cathedral.
With a shiver,
the light in the sky is extinguished.
The fog descends from
the darkened peaks to the town below.
The men, all bundled up,
go to the woods to look for firewood,
and gather sticks and pine cones,
to make the fires lively and aromatic.
Everything in nature is cold and desolate.
The mountains take on a special sadness,
when winter is not yet white
and the sun seems to have left the world.
Man and beast alike
are aflutter with anticipation,
and while the wood
is prepared and stacked,
a premonition of snow blooms
in the hearts of all men.
As the flakes descend,
dancing lightly, from the sky...
the small town,
barely lit by a few windows,
once again becomes a manger scene.
It is in front of the fire,
while the snow falls outside,
that legends are born at night,
the same ones the world over.
And if poetry were a road...
all the mountain folk from
all over the world would meet there...
as if by some miracle.
A miracle that can occur only up there,
near the Swiss pine,
where the horizon opens up
to the eternal legend of the mountain.
Return, o wonderful legend
of the sacred flame of Olympia,
symbol of peace and beauty
for the people of all the world.
The great celebration of mountain
and snow has arrived with a bang.
The miracle of the eternal
Olympic myth has come again.
Greece, land of Olympia, leads the parade
of 36 participating nations.
Written on the faces of the athletes
as they file by
is the joy and strength
infused in them by their faith in sports.
Italy concludes the parade,
and the ideal circle of civilization.
The same flame that was lit
27 centuries ago in Olympia
burns today in a valley in Italy.
I declare the seventh winter games
of Cortina d'Ampezzo open,
in celebration of the sixteenth Olympiad
of the modern era.
We swear that we will participate
in the Olympic games
with fairness...
respectful of the regulations
and driven to competing with sportsmanship
for the honor of our country
and the glory of sports.
Go! The first races of the seventh
Winter Games have begun.
Already on the slope of the downhill race
is Minuzzo,
who hopes to repeat in Cortina
her Oslo exploits.
The Italian champion skis with confidence,
solid on her legs,
with perfect synchronicity of movement.
Certainly more graceful
than the Swiss bobsled,
which careens from turn to turn
without ever touching the brake,
so as not to lose precious seconds.
Minuzzo flies, but
she will miss the bronze by just a hair.
Now it's the turn of the American, Tyler,
who will come in third,
and the Canadian, Wheeler,
who will achieve the same result.
The Swiss Frieda Danzer,
one of the favorites,
and among the fastest alpine skiers
in the world, will win silver,
as will the Italian bobsleigh team,
led by Eugenio Monti,
which is now hurtling down the icy track.
Finally,
it is the turn of Swiss Madeleine Berthod
and the bobsled of her compatriot, Kapus.
The 25-year-old Berthod,
used to hurtling down the Swiss Alps,
is flying down the slope,
almost as fast as Kapus's bobsled.
Switzerland's team 1
barrels toward the finish line,
where the laurels of victory await.
It is imitated by Madeleine Berthod,
who passes the finish line
with the fastest time of all.
The Swiss flag is hoisted,
honoring two coveted victories.
At the Snow Stadium, the women
of the 3x5km are at the starting line.
The first skiers of the nine
participating nations dash forward.
In order, from the first lane -
Czechoslovakia, Italy, Finland,
Yugoslavia, Soviet Union, Norway,
Sweden, Poland and Germany.
Many nations compete,
but the protagonists are two -
Russia and Finland, eternal rivals.
In fact,
number 5 immediately takes the lead -
the Soviet Kozyreva,
Olympic champion of the 10 km race,
with the others hot on her heels,
filing into the shadowy woods in turn.
Ruthless on the straightaway,
the Soviet's lead widens over number 3,
the Finnish Polkunen.
After the first leg,
Kozyreva tags her teammate,
the powerful Kolchina,
with a clear lead over her adversaries.
The Finnish Hietamis
starts with a 24-second lag time,
while the Norwegian Regland
is tagged after 33 seconds.
Finally, number 7, the Swedish Eriksson
after one minute and 12 seconds.
It is a close duel, therefore,
between the Russian, Kolchina
and the Finnish Hietamis,
who slowly gains ground.
The Russian's lead
is clearly getting smaller.
Hietamis's pace signals
a formidable Finnish rebound.
At the end of the second leg, in fact,
only six seconds
separate the Finn from the Russian.
Further back are Norway and Sweden.
Right after the switch, a dramatic event.
The Swedish Sonja Edstr?m,
while passing the stadium,
in a wonderful elbow-to-elbow move,
overtakes the Norwegian, Wahl.
It's the last leg. The Russian Yeroshina
seems to be marching toward victory.
But the Finnish Siiri Rantanen
is hot on her trail.
Yeroshina hears the rhythmic panting
of the Finn right behind her.
She loses her composure, disastrously,
and falls.
With a superhuman effort, she resumes,
desperate to hold onto her lead,
but her determined rival
is only a few meters behind her.
The two powerful skiers are now
one on top of the other.
The Russian pants, while the Finn
is relaxed as she slides in her wake.
The final climb, the hill of Zuel.
The slender and appealing Siiri
hesitates a moment longer,
then jumps to her rival's side
and, slowly but surely, passes her.
The fans cheer the two athletes on
enthusiastically,
but the game is over.
The Russian Yeroshina is devastated.
The last few meters. They slide rapidly
toward the Snow Stadium.
Rantanen claims a victory
also for her teammates,
who were anxiously awaiting her
at the finish line.
Yeroshina arrives exhausted.
On her face
is written the agony of defeat.
For the Finns,
happy and smiling, it is a triumph.
The d'Ampezzo valley is covered
in a thick layer of cottony gray...
a strange sea that envelopes
man and beast.
The peaks of the Dolomites are sad,
and snowy are their flanks.
Cortina is still sleeping,
but these Alpini have worked all night,
carrying up the Druscie
385 tons of snow
gathered from the gorges below.
On this gray, cold morning,
the fans are happy to climb
up the steep slope of the women's
slalom course just to get warm.
The cameramen prepare
for the long, hard work ahead.
At the summit, there are those
who got a very early start.
The TV technicians uncover cameras
tested at arctic temperatures.
The skiers of the slalom race
study the course from the bottom up.
The American, Lawrence...
the graceful Swiss Colliard.
There's room for everyone in Cortina.
Even for Sophia Loren.
But the fans are not distracted.
They are here to watch the thrilling
Olympic competitions,
and openly admire the athletes,
who are carefully evaluating
the challenges of the course.
Some talk to the trainers,
like the Swiss Colliard, number 1,
and the Austrian Frieda Danzer, number 10.
Others stand alone, and like teenagers,
go over their memorization.
The charming number 2, Josefine Frandl,
practices moving torso and shoulders.
While Sidorova, the only great downhill
Russian, tests her muscles' flexibility.
On the same dull morning in Misurina,
the speed skaters compete
in the 10,000m race.
On the board is the world champion's
speed: 16:32.6.
An average of over 35 km an hour.
For now, the athletes, while fast,
do not reach such heights,
perhaps because of the cold,
the wind gusts or the fog,
which envelops and hides
the mountain peaks.
Here comes Sidorova, daring but sure
on her legs and in her movements.
She will come in third, a huge surprise.
Meanwhile, in Misurina,
the Norwegian Johannesen
and the French Gilloz compete.
A shiver passes through the Italian fans.
Giuliana Minuzzo is on the course.
Descending fast, it's exhilarating.
And many Italian fans dare to hope.
She crosses the finish line.
Fourth by a fraction of a second.
In Misurina, as Johannesen
finishes his race in record time,
the Austrian Sch?pf, a favorite, begins.
Her style is just like her -
soft and graceful.
Meanwhile, on the ice,
we have the Russian Goncharenko
and the Canadian Olin.
Regina Sch?pf crosses the finish line
with an excellent time,
as does Goncharenko,
who leaps into first place
in the halfway results
of the 10,000m race.
On the Druscie, as in Misurina,
the battle is still wide open.
Two leaders come to the fore -
the Swiss Renee Colliard, downhill skier,
and the Swedish Sigvard Ericsson,
a skater.
Ericsson's lead is posted on the board.
Very last turns.
Last lap for the Swede.
And here they are at the finish line.
The young Swiss pharmacist,
whom her country wanted to exclude,
wins the slalom.
In Misurina, the winner is Sigvard
Ericsson, whose style is exquisite.
It has not dimmed over the years
and his spectacular career.
He achieves first place for Sweden.
The speakers announce Toni Sailer
for the slalom.
It is not he who rounds the gates.
The gates rush up to meet him,
as if in a waltz, bowing as he passes.
Toni Sailer doesn't ski, he dances.
He flies toward the triumph
of his first gold medal.
The world-famous Italian bobsleds
are born in this small workshop,
where the Cortinan craftsman D'Andrea
designs and assembles them.
The creation of the long metal skates
is extremely important,
and D'Andrea, who lovingly caresses
the edge of his blades,
can foresee the contact with the ice
for which they were shaped.
They will have to fly over the turns,
where the smoothness of the blades
will be a key factor in achieving victory.
This long icy snake hides poetic names
in its fearsome coils.
This white barrier is the Crystal turn.
And here, climbing to the top
before diving down the straightaway,
a bobsled can claim a victory
or careen over the edge,
like the Belgians did during practice.
There is great hope
for the two Italian teams,
led by the Cortinan Monti
and the jet pilot Dalla Costa.
Their bitter rivals are the Swiss Angst,
the Americans, Washbond and Tyler
and the amazing de Portago,
a race car driver new to bobsleigh,
who has turned out to be
an international threat.
After the finishing touches,
up goes the flag.
The bobsled is off!
It's team number 1,
from the United States, Washbond.
Their overall time over four runs
will be 5:30. 14,
a good result, which will be surpassed
by the excellent de Portago,
who will beat the American by 14/100
of a second and win fourth place.
Here is the second American team,
led by the fearless Tyler,
who, having finished the previous run
in excellent time,
is aiming for a top spot
and is willing to risk it all.
He approaches the Crystal turn.
Wonderful climb, but the dive is fatal.
A huge crash on exiting the turn
almost throws his teammate out,
but he miraculously holds on.
A mere glance at his partner
and Tyler races on,
but the mistake was fatal.
He will have to accept sixth place.
Here goes the Swiss Angst,
the most feared rival of the Italians.
His driving is flawless,
as is his trajectory.
Angst flies easily toward the finish.
He is much faster
than the previous competitors.
It's the turn of the Italian Monti.
He's off. He is very fast
on the first part of the course.
He swerves on the Belvedere turn,
but recovers.
Halfway, his time is excellent.
He attacks the straightaway
at over 60 miles an hour.
Crystal turn, he enters at top speed.
Perfect exit.
His dive is irresistible.
About 2 km of course run in 1 minute,
22 seconds and a few hundredths.
It's the best time.
We are waiting for Dalla Costa,
Italy's number 1.
He is getting ready.
And he's off, very fast. In order to beat
Monti, he would have to complete the run
in world-record time,
with perfect style and breathtaking speed.
Verzi turn, Sento straightaway.
Belvedere turn, perfect.
Here is the Antelao turn,
followed by the Crystal turn.
Perfect entrance.
Very precise exit.
His is the flight of an eagle
on a relentless descent
toward the finish line,
where triumph awaits.
Total time after four runs,
5:30. 14, the best of all.
Dalla Costa and Conti
win a gold medal for Italy,
bolstered by the silver medal
of Monti and Alver?.
The two champions shake hands,
while the Italian colors rise up the pole.
Early morning. A dull, almost tired air.
The stage is set for the white marathon.
The Alpini have cleared and leveled
the snow, over long, hard hours,
during a blizzard that swept through
every crevice of the d'Ampezzo valley
all through the night.
But now that the race is about to begin,
all that's left of the night is the cold.
Four below zero Fahrenheit.
Windows are coated with frost.
The technique of waxing the skis,
delicate and secret,
is crucial to all the winter sports.
It is achieved with years of experience,
and even then, mistakes are made.
Fifty kilometers of cross-country skiing.
The race is dramatic, spasmodic,
and each athlete is alone with himself.
The winner is not only the strongest,
but he who can endure suffering
the longest.
The first athlete is off.
At this point, all the work done,
the meticulous, hard preparation of men
and equipment, belongs to the past.
Only the race matters now.
The Soviet Kolchin, number 8.
His compatriot Anatoly Shelyukhin,
number 20.
The Finnish Kolehmainen, number 23.
The Swedish Jernberg, number 38.
Men who will become the face
of a fraught battle of wills.
Here is number 33, Hakulinen,
the great Finnish champion,
winner of the 30 km race.
And Jernberg, cross-country skier
with an implacable pace.
At the first hill, the white phantom
of muscle spasm rears its head.
Eighteenth kilometer,
a third of the course has been run.
The first refreshment stop,
a simple glass of tea.
Hakulinen needs nothing.
He chases his dream of victory.
Also the Soviet Baranov
refuses the refreshing beverage.
Possibly to save time.
The athletic Jernberg, on the contrary,
accepts the tea,
and sips it slowly,
confident in his strength.
At the Snow Stadium,
the fans and timekeeper await impatiently.
Shelyukhin flies by,
and overtakes the Italian Mismetti.
Their time is clocked.
Jernberg is first for now,
with a 35-second lead on Hakulinen,
57 seconds on Shelyukhin,
one minute and 20 seconds on Terentyev,
one minute and 44 seconds
on Kolehmainen.
The Swedes rejoice.
He is a real human locomotive.
But the hardest part of the race
has yet to come.
The 36th kilometer, the nth uphill climb.
He tries to catch up to Terentyev,
plodding on tenaciously.
His teammate Kolchin also persists.
Behind him, under grueling pressure,
is Shelyukhin.
Here is the Finnish Kolehmainen.
Suddenly, Shelyukhin loses his form.
He slows his pace,
while Hakulinen forges ahead,
as does Jernberg,
who has lengthened his lead.
Jernberg, number 38,
Swedish champion, is a speed demon.
His relentless pace is the same
he had at the start, two hours ago.
Their muscles are now empty
and their faces are caked with snow
mixed with frozen sweat,
which forms a crust of ice.
This was the brilliant Terentyev,
dogged Siberian. He has hit a wall.
His eyes stare vaguely ahead,
as his strength fails him.
Even Kolchin, who seems hewn from stone,
is propelled forward by willpower alone.
As is Shelyukhin, passionate and fierce
over two thirds of the race.
His face is a mask of pain.
Hakulinen's style is his saving grace.
Only Sixten Jernberg feels no fatigue.
He never loses his form,
and passes by without altering his pace.
For the others, the uphill is a dungeon.
Vigilio Mich, the best of the Italians,
forces himself up the hill,
riddled with muscle spasms.
The last few hundred meters.
Finally on level ground.
The stadium is near.
Here is Terentyev, a broken man,
having lost all expression.
His reward, the bronze medal.
Hakulinen,
with the unmistakable style of the Finns.
His time is amazing: 2:51:45.
We all anxiously await Jernberg,
who continues to ski
at his relentless pace.
The speakers announce his arrival
at the stadium.
Here he is! He is still fresh as a daisy.
His time is 2:50:27.
He is the winner
of this unforgettable race.
The Swedish flag is raised for him.
END FIRST HALF - WHITE VERTIGO
SECOND HALF - WHITE VERTIGO
Cortina is awakened
by the first morning light,
in the magnificent garb given her
by the five Olympic rings.
Each ring represents a continent,
and from the world over
the representatives of 36 nations
have converged on the d'Ampezzo valley.
Each flag represents a country,
with its traditions and culture.
The Finns have brought with them
all the accoutrements of the sauna.
Even the special rocks from their rivers,
over which water is turned into steam.
This physical reaction is said
to be very invigorating.
But we think that it mostly fosters
a huge appetite.
At least, judging from the breakfast
of these athletes,
which is articulated in six courses
full of sugars and fats.
The Japanese have a more refined palate.
A soup of Pacific seaweed, with fish meal,
and rice topped with a sauce
made with shrimp and sea peppers.
The Russians prefer yogurt and fish
for their morning meal.
Instead of the famous Volga caviar,
the more modest Adriatic sole.
The Russians are the champions
in terms of appetite.
In 15 days, they have consumed
about four tons of food,
which are balanced
by seven gold medals won so far.
The Anglo-Italian cuisine
of the Canadians is equally hearty,
ranging from British hors d'oeuvres
to a Tuscan stew.
Even the socialites of Cortina
have come out to play.
Cortina, teeming with new life
brought to the town by the Olympics,
is now the small beating heart
of the world.
The atmosphere is happy and cordial.
With all variety of attire, familiar
and exotic languages, have merged,
easily and spontaneously,
creating a harmonious whole.
Even the athletes who compete fairly, with
pride and determination for their flags,
when off the field
have come together in understanding,
on the short road
that the young always find,
from heart to heart.
Some lively music,
the enchantment of the d'Ampezzo valley,
and friendship has sprung up
spontaneously in their young hearts.
A short while ago some of them were foes.
Russians and Japanese,
Italians and Austrians,
Germans and Americans, Australians,
Koreans, Poles, French,
all at war with one another.
But this is how they really are.
Here are the barriers that divided them.
In the valley, Olympia's flame burns.
This is sports -
A human activity capable of gathering
all peoples in a spirit of peace
under a single banner.
But not all these people are tourists.
The chairlift carries up to the Tofane
and Mount Faloria also the competitors
in the men's and women's giant slalom.
The timekeepers synchronize
their well-tested instruments.
Regina Sch?pf is off,
while Maria Grazia Marchelli observes
the Canadian Anne Heggtveit
and the Polish Maria Gasienica-Daniel.
There are innumerable tumbles
on the frozen slopes today.
The Tofane appear to be cursed.
It's the turn of the young mother,
Lawrence, twice champion in Oslo,
who would like to bring a medal
home to her three children.
She is one of the favorites.
Her descent is confident, elegant,
but not as fast as it was
in Norway four years ago.
At the finish line, still panting,
she doesn't seem very satisfied.
Others have done better, or are about to.
Starting with number 13,
Dorothea Hochleitner,
a student of Molterer and Sailer's.
She flies down the slope with confidence.
She wins third place,
with a time of 1:58.2.
Here is Josefine Frandl, number 20,
even faster.
She will win the silver medal.
And here is number 8, the Swiss
Madeleine Berthod, a great favorite.
Madeleine is impatient to take off,
like a purebred foal at the starter gate.
In spite of her clear superiority,
she is nervous, excited,
and can barely stand the anticipation.
Finally, she's off!
She hurtles downhill on her powerful legs,
with the perfectly synchronized
movements of her arms,
grazing the gates at breathtaking speed.
She missed a gate.
One second, two, three.
She has to go back up in order
to avoid being disqualified.
Six, seven, eight seconds
irreparably lost.
She resumes with ardor, but without hope.
In spite of everything,
she will lag only 4.8 seconds
behind the German Ossi Reichert,
the winner with an unmistakable style.
She zips over the finish line,
stopping the clock as the winner.
Her time, 1:56.5.
Her mother's kiss seals the only
German victory in Alpine skiing.
The men's giant slalom course
is on the flank of Mount Faloria.
It begins right below the peak
and is 2260 m long,
along which are arranged
69 mandatory gates.
One has but to omit or skip
a single gate to be disqualified.
Here we have number 14, Schuster.
The Austrian, with a time of 3:07.2,
will win third place.
Now comes Molterer, the 25-year-old
from Kitzbuhel with an inimitable style.
With almost 120 medals under his belt,
all in slalom,
his specialty,
or rather, his athletic art form.
He crosses the finish line still fresh.
In Cortina Molterer was hoping to win
at least one medal.
And he would have succeeded,
if not for his compatriot Toni Sailer,
in excellent form.
In the relentless labyrinth
of the giant slalom,
Toni Sailer seems to be flying.
He descends lightly,
as if he were dancing a waltz,
and now glides toward
his second gold medal.
Sailer, a victor.
At the Snow Stadium,
the men's 4x10km race.
Fourteen nations are competing.
The strongest and most advanced
in the cold-weather disciplines.
Excellent start. At the head of the pack,
Terentyev's red jersey,
the blue jacket of the Finnish Kiuru,
Larsson's white one,
and Fattor's bright blue jacket.
At the second kilometer,
the Russian Terentyev has taken the lead,
hounded by the Norwegian Brusveen.
They're followed closely by the Austrian
Schneeberger, the Swedish Larsson,
the Swiss Zwingli, and the Italian Fattor.
From the beginning
of this men's relay race,
it's clear that the Soviets
want to reassert their supremacy.
But here comes the Finn,
who rapidly overtakes number 13.
Terentyev is already tackling
the harsh uphill of the woods.
Close on his heels, the Finnish Kiuru,
now in second place.
The men chase each other
with the relentlessness of bear hunters.
These unbeatable northerners are
the specialists of cross-country skiing.
At the end of the first leg,
we already have a ranking
of the competing nations.
Terentyev, who has distanced himself
from his Scandinavian rivals,
tags his teammate Kolchin,
who takes off at great speed.
The Russian tackling the second leg
has a lead of 1:31
on the Finnish Kortelainen...
of one minute and 48 seconds
on the Norwegian Olsen...
of two minutes and one second
on the Swedish Larsson.
Kolchin, one of the strongest skiers,
in spite of his ungainly style,
maintains his lead
on the Finnish Kortelainen.
They struggle desperately
over the harsh terrain,
which now snakes through the woods
halfway up the mountain,
with occasional stretches of level ground.
Behind the Russian and the Finn,
there has been an important change
in the lineup.
The Italian Compagnoni has overtaken
the Norwegian Olsen
and is now in fourth position.
Almost incredible.
Russia, Finland, Sweden, and Italy
glide rapidly toward the stadium.
Kolchin's arrival
garners amazement and admiration.
He completed his leg
with the fastest time of all,
with a lead on the Finnish Kortelainen
of two minutes and 45 seconds,
and on the Swedish Samuelsson of 3:38.
Compagnoni, fourth, tags Chatrian.
For the duration of the fourth leg,
there is no change in the positions.
Anikin for Russia, Viitanen for Finland...
Larsson for Sweden.
The Italian Chatrian.
Fourth and last leg.
Russia has Kuzin, world champion.
Finland has Hakulinen,
Olympic champion in the 30 km.
Sweden has Jernberg,
Olympic champion in the 50 km.
Italy has De Florian, and Norway,
Brenden, Olympic champion of the 15 km.
On the approach to the stadium,
Italy's dream of fourth place fades.
De Florian is overtaken
by gold medalist Brenden,
who has leapt forward.
On the steep hill leading the athletes
into the shady woods,
the Finnish Hakulinen begins
his spectacular chase,
gaining steadily on Kuzin,
the idol of the Soviets.
For half an hour, the crowd
witnesses the anxiety of the comeback
and the drama of the fall.
The Finnish champion gains
10, 12 seconds per kilometer,
but
he is unable to close the gap completely.
Vladimir Kuzin enters the Snow Stadium
victorious.
Second is Hakulinen, for Finland.
Third, Jernberg, for Sweden.
Fourth, Brenden, for Norway.
A warm applause welcomes
the Italian Federico De Florian,
who was able to keep up
with the powerful northerners.
The Soviets with the much-coveted
gold in the relay race.
In the evening, back at their hotels,
the athletes become mere humans again.
They relax, listening to music
or discussing the latest competition.
The women become women once again.
They knit,
read the latest fashion magazines,
write home to tell their families about
the wonderful adventure of the Olympics.
The Italian Minuzzo,
as well as the American Machado.
They are all the same,
in spite of their cultural differences.
The athletic uniform is a chrysalis,
from which blossoms a woman,
willing to risk breaking a leg
during a race,
but not the perfection
of her evening attire.
And while the hotels prepare
to receive their evening guests,
the Olympic stadium is preparing
for the hockey players,
the last athletes of the day,
to step into the rink.
In an underground boiler room,
the dull clanging of the machinery
that makes the ice for the rink.
The lights of the stadium
shine through the clear night air
and the Olympic flame
flutters in the wind.
Each night, before the games,
there is the official ceremony,
evocative and moving,
to award the medals to the victors.
Tonight, it's the turn of the Norwegians,
who have won three gold medals.
The heralds sound their trumpets,
while fluttering in the wind,
higher than the others,
rise the flags of three nations,
winners of their respective races.
In the locker rooms, the athletes
are busy getting dressed.
They don the armor of modern warriors,
which is indispensable to protect
the legs, shoulders and arms
of the brave champions.
They must above all protect
their knees, chest and feet.
The goalkeepers' uniform
weighs in excess of 33 pounds,
as they are the target
of the most furious attacks.
They wear huge gloves,
in order to catch the heavy puck,
which often travels faster
than 60 miles per hour.
Umpires and timekeepers, take your places.
Tonight's match is between Italy
and the red and white Austrians.
It is up to the Italians to open
the qualifying games,
with an exciting match
that shows, however,
that our team has not yet achieved
true harmony.
Goal! Unfortunately, it will not give us
the victory that we deserve.
With a final score of 2-2,
we will not make it to the finals.
Czechoslovakia-Poland,
the most violent match of the games.
For both players and umpires,
more than a competition, it's a battle.
They break tens of hockey sticks...
and a few ribs.
The result, a resounding 8-3
for Czechoslovakia.
Russia-United States,
a dramatic and polemic match.
The United States, having beat
the great team of Canada,
are praying for the miracle
of finishing in first place.
The Americans play with enthusiasm,
but their rivals are more in sync,
more homogeneous, more streamlined.
The match is rough, with no holds barred.
Winning would mean a clear shot
at the final.
For two periods the United States
successfully oppose the Russians,
but the puck is gliding toward Bobrov,
the offensive player of the Red Army.
A slingshot, and goal. The Americans fold.
The final score will be 4-0.
Finally, the big game, Russia-Canada.
The last hope for the Canadians.
If they win, they will be even
with the Soviets and the United States.
As the Canadian offense descends
and attacks,
the Soviets respond with stylistic
composure and clarity of action.
Slowly, inexorably,
the team with the red jerseys
becomes a steamroller.
Goal! The Russian team scores.
Undaunted, like true fighters,
the Canadians attack desperately,
while their time is running out,
inexorably.
In the third period, it's the end
for the five-time Olympic champions.
Kuzin makes a second Soviet goal,
sealing their undisputed superiority.
Russia is the new Olympic champion
of ice hockey,
ahead of the United States and Canada.
Amid the joyful exultation of the victors,
the hockey tournament ends -
violent, fiercely fought, but always fair.
The sun of the Dolomites, at the height
of its splendor, up in Misurina,
bathes the peaks of this magical land.
The legend of Fanes seems to live again
in the flashes of light and colors.
Here are the arrows of the ice -
the speed skaters of the 500m race,
that two steel blades propel
at a speed of about 30 miles per hour.
Canadians, Scandinavians, Japanese
and Soviets compete for the gold,
but none will match the speed
of Grishin, the Russian demon,
whose skating has electrified
thousands of spectators,
and overwhelmed his adversaries.
The Olympic laurels will be his.
The harmony of the speed skaters
melds with the pliant elegance
of the spinners of invisible lace
hovering over the shiny rectangle
in the Ice Stadium.
A juxtaposition of rhythms,
fused in an ideal musical design.
Hayes Jenkins and Emma Albright win
the two gold medals for America
in figure skating.
The Viennese Elisabeth Schwarz
and Kurt Oppelt win the pairs.
The Austrian flag is raised,
once again, for them.
The challenging course of the Tofane,
starting at 2282 m of altitude,
ends much farther downslope,
about 1000 m,
after a series ofjumps and cliffs
so incredibly difficult
as to intimidate the bravest skiers.
No athlete or spectator will forget
the men's downhill race.
An awesome wind gusts over the course
where the American Miller, number 3,
is waiting to start the race.
He quickly completes the first part
of the course.
He jumps over the cliffs.
He reaches the meadows of Rumerlo.
Too fast. His flight
is thus dramatically interrupted.
It's the turn of Chiharu lgaya,
small in stature, as are all Japanese,
but a born athlete
and great downhill skier.
His masterpiece was the giant slalom,
where he came in second behind Sailer.
He's reached the meadows of Rumerlo.
He loses his balance.
This spot on the course is fatal.
Number 4, the American Werner.
He skis with ease, but it's clear
that the critical juncture
is not the first part of the course,
with the jumps and cliffs,
but the meadows of Rumerlo,
where the athletes arrive tired
and at great speed.
The race seems lost, but the American,
with exceptional sangfroid,
is able to control his skis,
and pull himself up,
going on to the finish line.
After such a feat,
his legs can no longer carry him.
And in fact...
The Alpino Gino Burrini is the second
Italian in the race.
He was already our best skier
in the giant slalom.
And again on the Tofane course,
as he did on Mount Faloria,
he performs like a master.
This boy from Madonna di Campiglio
has legs of steel.
At the meadows of Rumerlo,
he too shakes, like the rest of them,
but crouching over his knees,
he is able to get through.
He will go on to win sixth place.
Andreas Molterer,
the Austrian with great style.
Not a single hesitation, not a tremor.
A perfect rotation of his torso allows
this exceptional skier to control his legs
and drive his descent with his chest.
Skiing at almost 60 miles per hour,
he passes Rumerlo.
At the finish line,
he clocks the best time achieved so far.
Here we have Raymond Fellay.
He was not supposed to be in the race.
Number 25 was reserved
for his compatriot, Roland Blaesi,
and Fellay was given only a few hours'
notice, before ascending the Tofane.
His style is unremarkable.
However, swerving here and there,
he arrives, panting, almost unexpectedly
at the bottom.
At the finish line, a surprise.
His time is exceptional:
2:55.7, the fastest of all.
Meanwhile, the meadows of Rumerlo
continue to eliminate his rivals.
The crowd is silent.
The speaker announces
the two-time champion, Toni Sailer,
the ace of aces,
who with assured technique
descends at more than 60 mph
toward the foot of the mountain.
He dances over the icy terrain, as usual.
But a question lingers in the air,
one that all here ask themselves.
A doubt that certainly grips
Toni's mind as well.
Will he pass Rumerlo?
500 meters to go. Two hundred.
One hundred. Rumerlo.
He swerves. Observe him in slow motion.
With his legs completely splayed,
he manages, by shifting his weight,
to catch his balance
and carry on to the bottom.
The last few hundred meters are
the triumphant march of a peerless skier.
Two minutes, 52 seconds, 2 tenths,
the fastest time of all.
Sailer has just won his third gold medal,
ahead of Fellay, a true revelation,
and his compatriot, Molterer.
Three medals in the same Olympiad.
Toni Sailer will thus attain
the Olympus of legendary men.
For the last day of the games,
the sun is out
and so is the crowd, on its way to Zuel,
a lovely town in the d'Ampezzo valley.
The crowd comes from all over Italy
and also from nearby Austria,
France and Switzerland.
There are also Scandinavians
and tourists from the north.
The huge amphitheater at the base
of the "Trampolino Italia",
the most bold and original structure,
due to its incomparable slenderness,
is filling up.
The ski jumping hill is part
of the structures built by CONI in Cortina
for the winter sports.
A superb complex,
that the entire world envies.
At the top of this dizzying hill
are the athletes of different schools -
the Scandinavian, which includes
Finns, Swedes, and Norwegians.
And the German, which also includes
the Soviet jumpers.
And the jumping begins.
Go!
The ski instructors of Cortina,
enthusiastic honorary snow compactors
for this great competition,
together with the Alpini,
are preparing the snow
before the final round.
Here is the German Max Bolkart.
81.5 meters. Total score, 222.5.
The German Harry Glab,
the best in the first round.
80.5 meters. Total score, 224.5.
The Finnish Aulis Kallakorpi,
former world champion.
A magnificent style. 80.5 meters.
Total score, 225, the best so far.
But there is a man up there,
a simple, coarse woodsman,
the Finnish Antti Hyvarinen.
Clear to go.
What a perfect landing.
He jumped 84 meters.
No one will be able to beat him.
The 24th and final gold medal
of the seventh Winter Olympics
goes to Antti Hyvarinen.
The last awards ceremony is over.
The legend of the Olympiad
is close to ending its cycle.
The flag with the five rings comes down
before the sacred flame of Olympia.
The flags of all the nations are lined up
for one last salute to the flame.
When the flags will reach the center,
the flame will go out.
The time has come.
THE END
In the valleys,
the sad decline of autumn is over.
Once again, winter has come,
and the high mountain peaks
already sparkle with fresh snow.
The trees are silent pictures
crystallized by the glancing light.
The light, melancholy fog
has crept into the heart of nature,
and a veil of frost covers the meadows.
The stream that flows from the mountain
is clouded with fresh ice.
In its tiny inlets,
bright embroidery blooms,
while the waterfall has become
a crystal cathedral.
With a shiver,
the light in the sky is extinguished.
The fog descends from
the darkened peaks to the town below.
The men, all bundled up,
go to the woods to look for firewood,
and gather sticks and pine cones,
to make the fires lively and aromatic.
Everything in nature is cold and desolate.
The mountains take on a special sadness,
when winter is not yet white
and the sun seems to have left the world.
Man and beast alike
are aflutter with anticipation,
and while the wood
is prepared and stacked,
a premonition of snow blooms
in the hearts of all men.
As the flakes descend,
dancing lightly, from the sky...
the small town,
barely lit by a few windows,
once again becomes a manger scene.
It is in front of the fire,
while the snow falls outside,
that legends are born at night,
the same ones the world over.
And if poetry were a road...
all the mountain folk from
all over the world would meet there...
as if by some miracle.
A miracle that can occur only up there,
near the Swiss pine,
where the horizon opens up
to the eternal legend of the mountain.
Return, o wonderful legend
of the sacred flame of Olympia,
symbol of peace and beauty
for the people of all the world.
The great celebration of mountain
and snow has arrived with a bang.
The miracle of the eternal
Olympic myth has come again.
Greece, land of Olympia, leads the parade
of 36 participating nations.
Written on the faces of the athletes
as they file by
is the joy and strength
infused in them by their faith in sports.
Italy concludes the parade,
and the ideal circle of civilization.
The same flame that was lit
27 centuries ago in Olympia
burns today in a valley in Italy.
I declare the seventh winter games
of Cortina d'Ampezzo open,
in celebration of the sixteenth Olympiad
of the modern era.
We swear that we will participate
in the Olympic games
with fairness...
respectful of the regulations
and driven to competing with sportsmanship
for the honor of our country
and the glory of sports.
Go! The first races of the seventh
Winter Games have begun.
Already on the slope of the downhill race
is Minuzzo,
who hopes to repeat in Cortina
her Oslo exploits.
The Italian champion skis with confidence,
solid on her legs,
with perfect synchronicity of movement.
Certainly more graceful
than the Swiss bobsled,
which careens from turn to turn
without ever touching the brake,
so as not to lose precious seconds.
Minuzzo flies, but
she will miss the bronze by just a hair.
Now it's the turn of the American, Tyler,
who will come in third,
and the Canadian, Wheeler,
who will achieve the same result.
The Swiss Frieda Danzer,
one of the favorites,
and among the fastest alpine skiers
in the world, will win silver,
as will the Italian bobsleigh team,
led by Eugenio Monti,
which is now hurtling down the icy track.
Finally,
it is the turn of Swiss Madeleine Berthod
and the bobsled of her compatriot, Kapus.
The 25-year-old Berthod,
used to hurtling down the Swiss Alps,
is flying down the slope,
almost as fast as Kapus's bobsled.
Switzerland's team 1
barrels toward the finish line,
where the laurels of victory await.
It is imitated by Madeleine Berthod,
who passes the finish line
with the fastest time of all.
The Swiss flag is hoisted,
honoring two coveted victories.
At the Snow Stadium, the women
of the 3x5km are at the starting line.
The first skiers of the nine
participating nations dash forward.
In order, from the first lane -
Czechoslovakia, Italy, Finland,
Yugoslavia, Soviet Union, Norway,
Sweden, Poland and Germany.
Many nations compete,
but the protagonists are two -
Russia and Finland, eternal rivals.
In fact,
number 5 immediately takes the lead -
the Soviet Kozyreva,
Olympic champion of the 10 km race,
with the others hot on her heels,
filing into the shadowy woods in turn.
Ruthless on the straightaway,
the Soviet's lead widens over number 3,
the Finnish Polkunen.
After the first leg,
Kozyreva tags her teammate,
the powerful Kolchina,
with a clear lead over her adversaries.
The Finnish Hietamis
starts with a 24-second lag time,
while the Norwegian Regland
is tagged after 33 seconds.
Finally, number 7, the Swedish Eriksson
after one minute and 12 seconds.
It is a close duel, therefore,
between the Russian, Kolchina
and the Finnish Hietamis,
who slowly gains ground.
The Russian's lead
is clearly getting smaller.
Hietamis's pace signals
a formidable Finnish rebound.
At the end of the second leg, in fact,
only six seconds
separate the Finn from the Russian.
Further back are Norway and Sweden.
Right after the switch, a dramatic event.
The Swedish Sonja Edstr?m,
while passing the stadium,
in a wonderful elbow-to-elbow move,
overtakes the Norwegian, Wahl.
It's the last leg. The Russian Yeroshina
seems to be marching toward victory.
But the Finnish Siiri Rantanen
is hot on her trail.
Yeroshina hears the rhythmic panting
of the Finn right behind her.
She loses her composure, disastrously,
and falls.
With a superhuman effort, she resumes,
desperate to hold onto her lead,
but her determined rival
is only a few meters behind her.
The two powerful skiers are now
one on top of the other.
The Russian pants, while the Finn
is relaxed as she slides in her wake.
The final climb, the hill of Zuel.
The slender and appealing Siiri
hesitates a moment longer,
then jumps to her rival's side
and, slowly but surely, passes her.
The fans cheer the two athletes on
enthusiastically,
but the game is over.
The Russian Yeroshina is devastated.
The last few meters. They slide rapidly
toward the Snow Stadium.
Rantanen claims a victory
also for her teammates,
who were anxiously awaiting her
at the finish line.
Yeroshina arrives exhausted.
On her face
is written the agony of defeat.
For the Finns,
happy and smiling, it is a triumph.
The d'Ampezzo valley is covered
in a thick layer of cottony gray...
a strange sea that envelopes
man and beast.
The peaks of the Dolomites are sad,
and snowy are their flanks.
Cortina is still sleeping,
but these Alpini have worked all night,
carrying up the Druscie
385 tons of snow
gathered from the gorges below.
On this gray, cold morning,
the fans are happy to climb
up the steep slope of the women's
slalom course just to get warm.
The cameramen prepare
for the long, hard work ahead.
At the summit, there are those
who got a very early start.
The TV technicians uncover cameras
tested at arctic temperatures.
The skiers of the slalom race
study the course from the bottom up.
The American, Lawrence...
the graceful Swiss Colliard.
There's room for everyone in Cortina.
Even for Sophia Loren.
But the fans are not distracted.
They are here to watch the thrilling
Olympic competitions,
and openly admire the athletes,
who are carefully evaluating
the challenges of the course.
Some talk to the trainers,
like the Swiss Colliard, number 1,
and the Austrian Frieda Danzer, number 10.
Others stand alone, and like teenagers,
go over their memorization.
The charming number 2, Josefine Frandl,
practices moving torso and shoulders.
While Sidorova, the only great downhill
Russian, tests her muscles' flexibility.
On the same dull morning in Misurina,
the speed skaters compete
in the 10,000m race.
On the board is the world champion's
speed: 16:32.6.
An average of over 35 km an hour.
For now, the athletes, while fast,
do not reach such heights,
perhaps because of the cold,
the wind gusts or the fog,
which envelops and hides
the mountain peaks.
Here comes Sidorova, daring but sure
on her legs and in her movements.
She will come in third, a huge surprise.
Meanwhile, in Misurina,
the Norwegian Johannesen
and the French Gilloz compete.
A shiver passes through the Italian fans.
Giuliana Minuzzo is on the course.
Descending fast, it's exhilarating.
And many Italian fans dare to hope.
She crosses the finish line.
Fourth by a fraction of a second.
In Misurina, as Johannesen
finishes his race in record time,
the Austrian Sch?pf, a favorite, begins.
Her style is just like her -
soft and graceful.
Meanwhile, on the ice,
we have the Russian Goncharenko
and the Canadian Olin.
Regina Sch?pf crosses the finish line
with an excellent time,
as does Goncharenko,
who leaps into first place
in the halfway results
of the 10,000m race.
On the Druscie, as in Misurina,
the battle is still wide open.
Two leaders come to the fore -
the Swiss Renee Colliard, downhill skier,
and the Swedish Sigvard Ericsson,
a skater.
Ericsson's lead is posted on the board.
Very last turns.
Last lap for the Swede.
And here they are at the finish line.
The young Swiss pharmacist,
whom her country wanted to exclude,
wins the slalom.
In Misurina, the winner is Sigvard
Ericsson, whose style is exquisite.
It has not dimmed over the years
and his spectacular career.
He achieves first place for Sweden.
The speakers announce Toni Sailer
for the slalom.
It is not he who rounds the gates.
The gates rush up to meet him,
as if in a waltz, bowing as he passes.
Toni Sailer doesn't ski, he dances.
He flies toward the triumph
of his first gold medal.
The world-famous Italian bobsleds
are born in this small workshop,
where the Cortinan craftsman D'Andrea
designs and assembles them.
The creation of the long metal skates
is extremely important,
and D'Andrea, who lovingly caresses
the edge of his blades,
can foresee the contact with the ice
for which they were shaped.
They will have to fly over the turns,
where the smoothness of the blades
will be a key factor in achieving victory.
This long icy snake hides poetic names
in its fearsome coils.
This white barrier is the Crystal turn.
And here, climbing to the top
before diving down the straightaway,
a bobsled can claim a victory
or careen over the edge,
like the Belgians did during practice.
There is great hope
for the two Italian teams,
led by the Cortinan Monti
and the jet pilot Dalla Costa.
Their bitter rivals are the Swiss Angst,
the Americans, Washbond and Tyler
and the amazing de Portago,
a race car driver new to bobsleigh,
who has turned out to be
an international threat.
After the finishing touches,
up goes the flag.
The bobsled is off!
It's team number 1,
from the United States, Washbond.
Their overall time over four runs
will be 5:30. 14,
a good result, which will be surpassed
by the excellent de Portago,
who will beat the American by 14/100
of a second and win fourth place.
Here is the second American team,
led by the fearless Tyler,
who, having finished the previous run
in excellent time,
is aiming for a top spot
and is willing to risk it all.
He approaches the Crystal turn.
Wonderful climb, but the dive is fatal.
A huge crash on exiting the turn
almost throws his teammate out,
but he miraculously holds on.
A mere glance at his partner
and Tyler races on,
but the mistake was fatal.
He will have to accept sixth place.
Here goes the Swiss Angst,
the most feared rival of the Italians.
His driving is flawless,
as is his trajectory.
Angst flies easily toward the finish.
He is much faster
than the previous competitors.
It's the turn of the Italian Monti.
He's off. He is very fast
on the first part of the course.
He swerves on the Belvedere turn,
but recovers.
Halfway, his time is excellent.
He attacks the straightaway
at over 60 miles an hour.
Crystal turn, he enters at top speed.
Perfect exit.
His dive is irresistible.
About 2 km of course run in 1 minute,
22 seconds and a few hundredths.
It's the best time.
We are waiting for Dalla Costa,
Italy's number 1.
He is getting ready.
And he's off, very fast. In order to beat
Monti, he would have to complete the run
in world-record time,
with perfect style and breathtaking speed.
Verzi turn, Sento straightaway.
Belvedere turn, perfect.
Here is the Antelao turn,
followed by the Crystal turn.
Perfect entrance.
Very precise exit.
His is the flight of an eagle
on a relentless descent
toward the finish line,
where triumph awaits.
Total time after four runs,
5:30. 14, the best of all.
Dalla Costa and Conti
win a gold medal for Italy,
bolstered by the silver medal
of Monti and Alver?.
The two champions shake hands,
while the Italian colors rise up the pole.
Early morning. A dull, almost tired air.
The stage is set for the white marathon.
The Alpini have cleared and leveled
the snow, over long, hard hours,
during a blizzard that swept through
every crevice of the d'Ampezzo valley
all through the night.
But now that the race is about to begin,
all that's left of the night is the cold.
Four below zero Fahrenheit.
Windows are coated with frost.
The technique of waxing the skis,
delicate and secret,
is crucial to all the winter sports.
It is achieved with years of experience,
and even then, mistakes are made.
Fifty kilometers of cross-country skiing.
The race is dramatic, spasmodic,
and each athlete is alone with himself.
The winner is not only the strongest,
but he who can endure suffering
the longest.
The first athlete is off.
At this point, all the work done,
the meticulous, hard preparation of men
and equipment, belongs to the past.
Only the race matters now.
The Soviet Kolchin, number 8.
His compatriot Anatoly Shelyukhin,
number 20.
The Finnish Kolehmainen, number 23.
The Swedish Jernberg, number 38.
Men who will become the face
of a fraught battle of wills.
Here is number 33, Hakulinen,
the great Finnish champion,
winner of the 30 km race.
And Jernberg, cross-country skier
with an implacable pace.
At the first hill, the white phantom
of muscle spasm rears its head.
Eighteenth kilometer,
a third of the course has been run.
The first refreshment stop,
a simple glass of tea.
Hakulinen needs nothing.
He chases his dream of victory.
Also the Soviet Baranov
refuses the refreshing beverage.
Possibly to save time.
The athletic Jernberg, on the contrary,
accepts the tea,
and sips it slowly,
confident in his strength.
At the Snow Stadium,
the fans and timekeeper await impatiently.
Shelyukhin flies by,
and overtakes the Italian Mismetti.
Their time is clocked.
Jernberg is first for now,
with a 35-second lead on Hakulinen,
57 seconds on Shelyukhin,
one minute and 20 seconds on Terentyev,
one minute and 44 seconds
on Kolehmainen.
The Swedes rejoice.
He is a real human locomotive.
But the hardest part of the race
has yet to come.
The 36th kilometer, the nth uphill climb.
He tries to catch up to Terentyev,
plodding on tenaciously.
His teammate Kolchin also persists.
Behind him, under grueling pressure,
is Shelyukhin.
Here is the Finnish Kolehmainen.
Suddenly, Shelyukhin loses his form.
He slows his pace,
while Hakulinen forges ahead,
as does Jernberg,
who has lengthened his lead.
Jernberg, number 38,
Swedish champion, is a speed demon.
His relentless pace is the same
he had at the start, two hours ago.
Their muscles are now empty
and their faces are caked with snow
mixed with frozen sweat,
which forms a crust of ice.
This was the brilliant Terentyev,
dogged Siberian. He has hit a wall.
His eyes stare vaguely ahead,
as his strength fails him.
Even Kolchin, who seems hewn from stone,
is propelled forward by willpower alone.
As is Shelyukhin, passionate and fierce
over two thirds of the race.
His face is a mask of pain.
Hakulinen's style is his saving grace.
Only Sixten Jernberg feels no fatigue.
He never loses his form,
and passes by without altering his pace.
For the others, the uphill is a dungeon.
Vigilio Mich, the best of the Italians,
forces himself up the hill,
riddled with muscle spasms.
The last few hundred meters.
Finally on level ground.
The stadium is near.
Here is Terentyev, a broken man,
having lost all expression.
His reward, the bronze medal.
Hakulinen,
with the unmistakable style of the Finns.
His time is amazing: 2:51:45.
We all anxiously await Jernberg,
who continues to ski
at his relentless pace.
The speakers announce his arrival
at the stadium.
Here he is! He is still fresh as a daisy.
His time is 2:50:27.
He is the winner
of this unforgettable race.
The Swedish flag is raised for him.
END FIRST HALF - WHITE VERTIGO
SECOND HALF - WHITE VERTIGO
Cortina is awakened
by the first morning light,
in the magnificent garb given her
by the five Olympic rings.
Each ring represents a continent,
and from the world over
the representatives of 36 nations
have converged on the d'Ampezzo valley.
Each flag represents a country,
with its traditions and culture.
The Finns have brought with them
all the accoutrements of the sauna.
Even the special rocks from their rivers,
over which water is turned into steam.
This physical reaction is said
to be very invigorating.
But we think that it mostly fosters
a huge appetite.
At least, judging from the breakfast
of these athletes,
which is articulated in six courses
full of sugars and fats.
The Japanese have a more refined palate.
A soup of Pacific seaweed, with fish meal,
and rice topped with a sauce
made with shrimp and sea peppers.
The Russians prefer yogurt and fish
for their morning meal.
Instead of the famous Volga caviar,
the more modest Adriatic sole.
The Russians are the champions
in terms of appetite.
In 15 days, they have consumed
about four tons of food,
which are balanced
by seven gold medals won so far.
The Anglo-Italian cuisine
of the Canadians is equally hearty,
ranging from British hors d'oeuvres
to a Tuscan stew.
Even the socialites of Cortina
have come out to play.
Cortina, teeming with new life
brought to the town by the Olympics,
is now the small beating heart
of the world.
The atmosphere is happy and cordial.
With all variety of attire, familiar
and exotic languages, have merged,
easily and spontaneously,
creating a harmonious whole.
Even the athletes who compete fairly, with
pride and determination for their flags,
when off the field
have come together in understanding,
on the short road
that the young always find,
from heart to heart.
Some lively music,
the enchantment of the d'Ampezzo valley,
and friendship has sprung up
spontaneously in their young hearts.
A short while ago some of them were foes.
Russians and Japanese,
Italians and Austrians,
Germans and Americans, Australians,
Koreans, Poles, French,
all at war with one another.
But this is how they really are.
Here are the barriers that divided them.
In the valley, Olympia's flame burns.
This is sports -
A human activity capable of gathering
all peoples in a spirit of peace
under a single banner.
But not all these people are tourists.
The chairlift carries up to the Tofane
and Mount Faloria also the competitors
in the men's and women's giant slalom.
The timekeepers synchronize
their well-tested instruments.
Regina Sch?pf is off,
while Maria Grazia Marchelli observes
the Canadian Anne Heggtveit
and the Polish Maria Gasienica-Daniel.
There are innumerable tumbles
on the frozen slopes today.
The Tofane appear to be cursed.
It's the turn of the young mother,
Lawrence, twice champion in Oslo,
who would like to bring a medal
home to her three children.
She is one of the favorites.
Her descent is confident, elegant,
but not as fast as it was
in Norway four years ago.
At the finish line, still panting,
she doesn't seem very satisfied.
Others have done better, or are about to.
Starting with number 13,
Dorothea Hochleitner,
a student of Molterer and Sailer's.
She flies down the slope with confidence.
She wins third place,
with a time of 1:58.2.
Here is Josefine Frandl, number 20,
even faster.
She will win the silver medal.
And here is number 8, the Swiss
Madeleine Berthod, a great favorite.
Madeleine is impatient to take off,
like a purebred foal at the starter gate.
In spite of her clear superiority,
she is nervous, excited,
and can barely stand the anticipation.
Finally, she's off!
She hurtles downhill on her powerful legs,
with the perfectly synchronized
movements of her arms,
grazing the gates at breathtaking speed.
She missed a gate.
One second, two, three.
She has to go back up in order
to avoid being disqualified.
Six, seven, eight seconds
irreparably lost.
She resumes with ardor, but without hope.
In spite of everything,
she will lag only 4.8 seconds
behind the German Ossi Reichert,
the winner with an unmistakable style.
She zips over the finish line,
stopping the clock as the winner.
Her time, 1:56.5.
Her mother's kiss seals the only
German victory in Alpine skiing.
The men's giant slalom course
is on the flank of Mount Faloria.
It begins right below the peak
and is 2260 m long,
along which are arranged
69 mandatory gates.
One has but to omit or skip
a single gate to be disqualified.
Here we have number 14, Schuster.
The Austrian, with a time of 3:07.2,
will win third place.
Now comes Molterer, the 25-year-old
from Kitzbuhel with an inimitable style.
With almost 120 medals under his belt,
all in slalom,
his specialty,
or rather, his athletic art form.
He crosses the finish line still fresh.
In Cortina Molterer was hoping to win
at least one medal.
And he would have succeeded,
if not for his compatriot Toni Sailer,
in excellent form.
In the relentless labyrinth
of the giant slalom,
Toni Sailer seems to be flying.
He descends lightly,
as if he were dancing a waltz,
and now glides toward
his second gold medal.
Sailer, a victor.
At the Snow Stadium,
the men's 4x10km race.
Fourteen nations are competing.
The strongest and most advanced
in the cold-weather disciplines.
Excellent start. At the head of the pack,
Terentyev's red jersey,
the blue jacket of the Finnish Kiuru,
Larsson's white one,
and Fattor's bright blue jacket.
At the second kilometer,
the Russian Terentyev has taken the lead,
hounded by the Norwegian Brusveen.
They're followed closely by the Austrian
Schneeberger, the Swedish Larsson,
the Swiss Zwingli, and the Italian Fattor.
From the beginning
of this men's relay race,
it's clear that the Soviets
want to reassert their supremacy.
But here comes the Finn,
who rapidly overtakes number 13.
Terentyev is already tackling
the harsh uphill of the woods.
Close on his heels, the Finnish Kiuru,
now in second place.
The men chase each other
with the relentlessness of bear hunters.
These unbeatable northerners are
the specialists of cross-country skiing.
At the end of the first leg,
we already have a ranking
of the competing nations.
Terentyev, who has distanced himself
from his Scandinavian rivals,
tags his teammate Kolchin,
who takes off at great speed.
The Russian tackling the second leg
has a lead of 1:31
on the Finnish Kortelainen...
of one minute and 48 seconds
on the Norwegian Olsen...
of two minutes and one second
on the Swedish Larsson.
Kolchin, one of the strongest skiers,
in spite of his ungainly style,
maintains his lead
on the Finnish Kortelainen.
They struggle desperately
over the harsh terrain,
which now snakes through the woods
halfway up the mountain,
with occasional stretches of level ground.
Behind the Russian and the Finn,
there has been an important change
in the lineup.
The Italian Compagnoni has overtaken
the Norwegian Olsen
and is now in fourth position.
Almost incredible.
Russia, Finland, Sweden, and Italy
glide rapidly toward the stadium.
Kolchin's arrival
garners amazement and admiration.
He completed his leg
with the fastest time of all,
with a lead on the Finnish Kortelainen
of two minutes and 45 seconds,
and on the Swedish Samuelsson of 3:38.
Compagnoni, fourth, tags Chatrian.
For the duration of the fourth leg,
there is no change in the positions.
Anikin for Russia, Viitanen for Finland...
Larsson for Sweden.
The Italian Chatrian.
Fourth and last leg.
Russia has Kuzin, world champion.
Finland has Hakulinen,
Olympic champion in the 30 km.
Sweden has Jernberg,
Olympic champion in the 50 km.
Italy has De Florian, and Norway,
Brenden, Olympic champion of the 15 km.
On the approach to the stadium,
Italy's dream of fourth place fades.
De Florian is overtaken
by gold medalist Brenden,
who has leapt forward.
On the steep hill leading the athletes
into the shady woods,
the Finnish Hakulinen begins
his spectacular chase,
gaining steadily on Kuzin,
the idol of the Soviets.
For half an hour, the crowd
witnesses the anxiety of the comeback
and the drama of the fall.
The Finnish champion gains
10, 12 seconds per kilometer,
but
he is unable to close the gap completely.
Vladimir Kuzin enters the Snow Stadium
victorious.
Second is Hakulinen, for Finland.
Third, Jernberg, for Sweden.
Fourth, Brenden, for Norway.
A warm applause welcomes
the Italian Federico De Florian,
who was able to keep up
with the powerful northerners.
The Soviets with the much-coveted
gold in the relay race.
In the evening, back at their hotels,
the athletes become mere humans again.
They relax, listening to music
or discussing the latest competition.
The women become women once again.
They knit,
read the latest fashion magazines,
write home to tell their families about
the wonderful adventure of the Olympics.
The Italian Minuzzo,
as well as the American Machado.
They are all the same,
in spite of their cultural differences.
The athletic uniform is a chrysalis,
from which blossoms a woman,
willing to risk breaking a leg
during a race,
but not the perfection
of her evening attire.
And while the hotels prepare
to receive their evening guests,
the Olympic stadium is preparing
for the hockey players,
the last athletes of the day,
to step into the rink.
In an underground boiler room,
the dull clanging of the machinery
that makes the ice for the rink.
The lights of the stadium
shine through the clear night air
and the Olympic flame
flutters in the wind.
Each night, before the games,
there is the official ceremony,
evocative and moving,
to award the medals to the victors.
Tonight, it's the turn of the Norwegians,
who have won three gold medals.
The heralds sound their trumpets,
while fluttering in the wind,
higher than the others,
rise the flags of three nations,
winners of their respective races.
In the locker rooms, the athletes
are busy getting dressed.
They don the armor of modern warriors,
which is indispensable to protect
the legs, shoulders and arms
of the brave champions.
They must above all protect
their knees, chest and feet.
The goalkeepers' uniform
weighs in excess of 33 pounds,
as they are the target
of the most furious attacks.
They wear huge gloves,
in order to catch the heavy puck,
which often travels faster
than 60 miles per hour.
Umpires and timekeepers, take your places.
Tonight's match is between Italy
and the red and white Austrians.
It is up to the Italians to open
the qualifying games,
with an exciting match
that shows, however,
that our team has not yet achieved
true harmony.
Goal! Unfortunately, it will not give us
the victory that we deserve.
With a final score of 2-2,
we will not make it to the finals.
Czechoslovakia-Poland,
the most violent match of the games.
For both players and umpires,
more than a competition, it's a battle.
They break tens of hockey sticks...
and a few ribs.
The result, a resounding 8-3
for Czechoslovakia.
Russia-United States,
a dramatic and polemic match.
The United States, having beat
the great team of Canada,
are praying for the miracle
of finishing in first place.
The Americans play with enthusiasm,
but their rivals are more in sync,
more homogeneous, more streamlined.
The match is rough, with no holds barred.
Winning would mean a clear shot
at the final.
For two periods the United States
successfully oppose the Russians,
but the puck is gliding toward Bobrov,
the offensive player of the Red Army.
A slingshot, and goal. The Americans fold.
The final score will be 4-0.
Finally, the big game, Russia-Canada.
The last hope for the Canadians.
If they win, they will be even
with the Soviets and the United States.
As the Canadian offense descends
and attacks,
the Soviets respond with stylistic
composure and clarity of action.
Slowly, inexorably,
the team with the red jerseys
becomes a steamroller.
Goal! The Russian team scores.
Undaunted, like true fighters,
the Canadians attack desperately,
while their time is running out,
inexorably.
In the third period, it's the end
for the five-time Olympic champions.
Kuzin makes a second Soviet goal,
sealing their undisputed superiority.
Russia is the new Olympic champion
of ice hockey,
ahead of the United States and Canada.
Amid the joyful exultation of the victors,
the hockey tournament ends -
violent, fiercely fought, but always fair.
The sun of the Dolomites, at the height
of its splendor, up in Misurina,
bathes the peaks of this magical land.
The legend of Fanes seems to live again
in the flashes of light and colors.
Here are the arrows of the ice -
the speed skaters of the 500m race,
that two steel blades propel
at a speed of about 30 miles per hour.
Canadians, Scandinavians, Japanese
and Soviets compete for the gold,
but none will match the speed
of Grishin, the Russian demon,
whose skating has electrified
thousands of spectators,
and overwhelmed his adversaries.
The Olympic laurels will be his.
The harmony of the speed skaters
melds with the pliant elegance
of the spinners of invisible lace
hovering over the shiny rectangle
in the Ice Stadium.
A juxtaposition of rhythms,
fused in an ideal musical design.
Hayes Jenkins and Emma Albright win
the two gold medals for America
in figure skating.
The Viennese Elisabeth Schwarz
and Kurt Oppelt win the pairs.
The Austrian flag is raised,
once again, for them.
The challenging course of the Tofane,
starting at 2282 m of altitude,
ends much farther downslope,
about 1000 m,
after a series ofjumps and cliffs
so incredibly difficult
as to intimidate the bravest skiers.
No athlete or spectator will forget
the men's downhill race.
An awesome wind gusts over the course
where the American Miller, number 3,
is waiting to start the race.
He quickly completes the first part
of the course.
He jumps over the cliffs.
He reaches the meadows of Rumerlo.
Too fast. His flight
is thus dramatically interrupted.
It's the turn of Chiharu lgaya,
small in stature, as are all Japanese,
but a born athlete
and great downhill skier.
His masterpiece was the giant slalom,
where he came in second behind Sailer.
He's reached the meadows of Rumerlo.
He loses his balance.
This spot on the course is fatal.
Number 4, the American Werner.
He skis with ease, but it's clear
that the critical juncture
is not the first part of the course,
with the jumps and cliffs,
but the meadows of Rumerlo,
where the athletes arrive tired
and at great speed.
The race seems lost, but the American,
with exceptional sangfroid,
is able to control his skis,
and pull himself up,
going on to the finish line.
After such a feat,
his legs can no longer carry him.
And in fact...
The Alpino Gino Burrini is the second
Italian in the race.
He was already our best skier
in the giant slalom.
And again on the Tofane course,
as he did on Mount Faloria,
he performs like a master.
This boy from Madonna di Campiglio
has legs of steel.
At the meadows of Rumerlo,
he too shakes, like the rest of them,
but crouching over his knees,
he is able to get through.
He will go on to win sixth place.
Andreas Molterer,
the Austrian with great style.
Not a single hesitation, not a tremor.
A perfect rotation of his torso allows
this exceptional skier to control his legs
and drive his descent with his chest.
Skiing at almost 60 miles per hour,
he passes Rumerlo.
At the finish line,
he clocks the best time achieved so far.
Here we have Raymond Fellay.
He was not supposed to be in the race.
Number 25 was reserved
for his compatriot, Roland Blaesi,
and Fellay was given only a few hours'
notice, before ascending the Tofane.
His style is unremarkable.
However, swerving here and there,
he arrives, panting, almost unexpectedly
at the bottom.
At the finish line, a surprise.
His time is exceptional:
2:55.7, the fastest of all.
Meanwhile, the meadows of Rumerlo
continue to eliminate his rivals.
The crowd is silent.
The speaker announces
the two-time champion, Toni Sailer,
the ace of aces,
who with assured technique
descends at more than 60 mph
toward the foot of the mountain.
He dances over the icy terrain, as usual.
But a question lingers in the air,
one that all here ask themselves.
A doubt that certainly grips
Toni's mind as well.
Will he pass Rumerlo?
500 meters to go. Two hundred.
One hundred. Rumerlo.
He swerves. Observe him in slow motion.
With his legs completely splayed,
he manages, by shifting his weight,
to catch his balance
and carry on to the bottom.
The last few hundred meters are
the triumphant march of a peerless skier.
Two minutes, 52 seconds, 2 tenths,
the fastest time of all.
Sailer has just won his third gold medal,
ahead of Fellay, a true revelation,
and his compatriot, Molterer.
Three medals in the same Olympiad.
Toni Sailer will thus attain
the Olympus of legendary men.
For the last day of the games,
the sun is out
and so is the crowd, on its way to Zuel,
a lovely town in the d'Ampezzo valley.
The crowd comes from all over Italy
and also from nearby Austria,
France and Switzerland.
There are also Scandinavians
and tourists from the north.
The huge amphitheater at the base
of the "Trampolino Italia",
the most bold and original structure,
due to its incomparable slenderness,
is filling up.
The ski jumping hill is part
of the structures built by CONI in Cortina
for the winter sports.
A superb complex,
that the entire world envies.
At the top of this dizzying hill
are the athletes of different schools -
the Scandinavian, which includes
Finns, Swedes, and Norwegians.
And the German, which also includes
the Soviet jumpers.
And the jumping begins.
Go!
The ski instructors of Cortina,
enthusiastic honorary snow compactors
for this great competition,
together with the Alpini,
are preparing the snow
before the final round.
Here is the German Max Bolkart.
81.5 meters. Total score, 222.5.
The German Harry Glab,
the best in the first round.
80.5 meters. Total score, 224.5.
The Finnish Aulis Kallakorpi,
former world champion.
A magnificent style. 80.5 meters.
Total score, 225, the best so far.
But there is a man up there,
a simple, coarse woodsman,
the Finnish Antti Hyvarinen.
Clear to go.
What a perfect landing.
He jumped 84 meters.
No one will be able to beat him.
The 24th and final gold medal
of the seventh Winter Olympics
goes to Antti Hyvarinen.
The last awards ceremony is over.
The legend of the Olympiad
is close to ending its cycle.
The flag with the five rings comes down
before the sacred flame of Olympia.
The flags of all the nations are lined up
for one last salute to the flame.
When the flags will reach the center,
the flame will go out.
The time has come.
THE END