Skimeister
The tension high on a mountain before a downhill ski race is unlike that of any other individual competitive sport. The starter calls out "Five-four-three-two-one - GO!" and the skier lunges forward, keeping, so far as his ability and courage will let him, to the line that a boulder would follow if it shook loose and fell. Because of refinements in downhill technique, ability among the top five or six runners is almost equal in many races. Courage is the unknown and on it rides the race. The racer poised at the top of a mountain has to ask himself, "How straight can I cut it?" Miscalculations occur infrequently but when they do and a man is injured, it always sends a chill through the men gathered around the starter.
A few years ago when Egil Stigum was set to go in a downhill just outside his native Oslo, the starter reached the "four-three-two" and then stopped. He had received word that the trail was blocked and then reported that a preceding racer had fractured his leg on the icy course and that another had fallen and cut his face badly. There was a half-hour delay with the fellows on top trying to keep warm and joke about the course, and then the starter was ready. Egil shoved off to clatter down over the ice, racing all the way against the tick of a clock at the finish line, where a tenth of a second could make all the difference.
Unlike some Norwegian skiers, Egil learned to walk before he learned to ski. At home in Oslo, where his father is curator of the Norwegian Folk Museum, Egil was a member of a ski club and competed only as a jumper. It was only by accident that he tried slalom: an injury in 1947 forced him to put away the jumpers and he purchased his first downhill skis. Since then, he has become a four-event man (downhill, slalom, cross country and jumping) and posted the best allaround score in this year's Carnival to be named Skimeister.
His big break as a slalom skier came by accident also. He was 16 and skiing near Oslo - doing quite well, he thought, for having been on slalom skis for only two years - when a tall, blond skier (Egil has wavy red hair) came over and asked him if he would like to ski with him. They skied together the rest of the afternoon, with the blond head shaking sometimes in criticism of Egil's slalom technique. It was only when the afternoon was over that Egil learned the name of his new friend: Stein Erikson, then Norwegian Slalom Champion and later an Olympic Gold Medal winner. Stein is now Egil's best friend.
Egil almost reached this country first as a Norwegian Air Force cadet when men were being picked for jet training in Arizona. He was in a group of seven chosen from 700 and then, because it had to be narrowed still further, additional tests were given and he lost out in a physical exam. He thinks that his disqualification may have had something to do with using his head in soccer. Apparently he "headed the ball too much and shook something loose."
Egil is a mainstay of the Dartmouth soccer team. As a center-forward "he is big and fast and has a tremendous shot," Coach Tom Dent says. That was needed in the Cornell game this year when he scored the only goal to wrap up an undefeated season.
Using his head as a scholarship-holding Geography major has caused no injury, however, and he thinks that he may keep it up by going on to Tuck School after graduation. At this time he is undecided whether or not he will settle in this country and may make up his mind when he goes back to Norway to try out for the 1956 Olympics.
We tried to pin him down, asking what sport he preferred, skiing or soccer. He thought for a minute and we could see that it was a close but a clear decision. "Skiing," he said. We didn't ask him why, but we suspect that it had something to do with the way you feel high on the mountain when the starter says: "Five, four, three, two, one — GO!"
Egil Stigum '56
