HOW IT FEELS TO BE A WORLD CHAMPION SKIER
By Keith Wegeman as told to Norman B. Rohrer
M y father believed in sports for what they offered life. Almost as soon as I could walk he taught me the funda mentals o f all team and self-testing sports. When I was three, Dad bought me a pair o f tiny skis about a yard long and took me to the slopes behind Denver, my home town. "Y ou ’ve got to learn early,’ ’ he said, and pushed me down the hill. At first I sat on the skis and went down like a sled. I loved the snow and it wasn’t many years before skiing became my whole life. I developed one supreme goal: to participate in the International Olympics. In practice, in competition or in study, I kept that goal before me and re fused to take less. At 14 I moved with my parents, two brothers and sister, to Steamboat Springs, Colo., a skier’s paradise. In the 1946 Nationals held there, I saw Art Devlin jump and was
captivated by his daring style. Later he set the 1950 Ameri can record by jumping 307 feet on that same hill. He was my idol. I wanted to ski with that same daring. As a junior in high school in 1946 I was state champion, winning the slalom, downhill and jumping events at Winter Park, Colo. The next year I won the big Junior American Legion trophy. Four years later I was on the 1950 W orld Championship Team— a six-man squad featuring four jumpers and two alternates. W e jumped that year in Lake Placid, N .Y ., against the best from 10 other nations. In 1951 I graduated from the University o f Denver with a degree in physical education. W ith this behind me I went on training for my goal harder than ever. I used larger skis than the average size. Mine measured about 8' 4". Then came the long hoped for break. I was selected for the team to represent America in the 1952 Olympics.
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