So Long, Christin Cooper

The racer turned NBC commentator retires — who will fill her boots?

When the women of the World Cup come to Aspen this Friday, Nov. 27, one particular woman will be notably absent: Christin Cooper, the longtime NBC commentator who turned a storied racing career into telling the stories of other racers.

Recently, the two-time Olympian (1980 and 1984) and eight-year member of the U.S. Ski Team (1977 to 1984) confided in SkiRacing.com that she would be retiring from the booth, and spent time reflecting on her years reporting with Todd Brooker, Steve Porino (Pino) and Tim Ryan. Will NBC hire another woman to do her job? Read on.

Christin Cooper and Todd Brooker broadcast alpine action at the 2013 World Championships.

SR: What does it take to be an expert analyst?

CC: It’s seasonal work, and there’s not a lot of it, but it’s a craft, and requires total immersion to do it well. At the major events, especially, where the audience is huge but for the most part uninformed, I’ve got be the de-coder. I need to slow it down for the viewer and lead their eye, which is a trick at modern speeds. You have to know everything: who’s racing hurt, every equipment and coaching change, what a racer’s history is on a given hill, or snow conditions. I’m pretty meticulous about preparation. Even if I’m only doing a race or two a year, it takes the same knowledge base. It’s exhausting and time consuming, and I do have another life! But that’s my style. I can’t do it any other way.

Todd or Pino will tell you. I’m ridiculous on background. Todd takes a different approach, much more laid back and intuitive, but he knows technique, and he talks to everyone. He knows coaches and he unearths the key stuff. Todd does his homework.

Knowing Todd was calling the women in Aspen this fall, I offered him my notes, and he pretty much recoiled in horror: “Just one thing on each racer, Coop! That’s all I need!” I think he feared getting buried in an avalanche of information. Tim was always telling me two things: One, to rely less on my notes and more on my eye and instincts, and two, to be myself at the mike, or rather, importantly, “a more concise version of myself”. Awesome counsel. Not sure how well I succeeded.

“I’m pretty meticulous about preparation,” says Cooper (here with Dan Hicks). Photo courtesy Christin Cooper

You’ve got to respond to the action on screen, in as few words as possible, but it’s a balance. It’s the stories behind the goggles that bring the skiing to life, in my opinion. It’s why Bode is so captivating, as a racer and as a human being. He has an amazing story, which continues to unfold, and the viewer responds to him as a person, as a fascinating, authentic, complicated character. His authenticity informs his skiing, and his risk-taking and his injuries and his life choices. It’s the source of the crazy genius of his career. But it’s not just Bode; everyone’s personality informs their skiing — that’s what’s so cool about decoding ski racing. Skiing is our personalities, our experience, on display, in real time. I just wish we had more time to discuss it on TV. It’s impossible to paint a picture of our sport in the time we’re given. But that’s the job.

There’s also the need to stay childlike, and in awe of the sport. A great analyst must maintain a personal authentic engagement with the rush that is ski racing in order to convey authentic excitement to the viewer. It’s too easy to focus on the minutae and think your job is only to dissect, critique and find fault — in the process forgetting just how astonishing ski racing is at the highest level, how fraught and dangerous and exhilarating, particularly when a racer is risking enough to be making mistakes. Fifteeth place might be mere tenths of a second off the podium. Even if it’s a full second back, it remains an effort beyond 99.9 percent of the audience’s imaginings.  It is all too easy to call out “poor skiing” with a kind of disdain, in comparison to the “inspired skiing” of the leader. “Poor skiing” is often a far more interesting beast: Was it a racer still overcome by fear after an injury? Was it the wrong equipment or set-up or tune for the conditions? Was it a tactical error, an attempt to cut corners after a mistake? Or excessive caution thanks to a string of DNFs and desperation to just, finally, make the finish line? A good analyst is always fair-minded, when the easy way out is to be dismissive, too much of an insider.

 
Tim Ryan and Cooper examine the course at Wengen. Photo courtesy Christin Cooper

SR: What about your partnership with Tim Ryan?

CC: That I got to partner with Tim for a couple of decades was my good fortune. The man was a worthy traveling companion, back when budgets allowed us to traipse about Europe doing sit-down interviews with coaches and athletes of every nationality, attending races we weren’t even covering — for research! Imagine! The wine, the food, the debates about the state of the sport, the skiing… Ahhh, the skiing. Tim trustingly followed too many of his analysts — Kidd, myself, Andy Mill, Cindy Nelson, Picabo Street, Todd, Pino — down too many icy courses and fogged-in, powder-packed couloirs for his own good. He trusted our judgment as we trusted his instincts for self-preservation. He knew that what we retired ski racers were going for — what we needed —  was a rush of our own, to be any good in the booth later.

To me that speaks to some interesting changes, both cultural and economic, in TV sports since the ’80s and ’90s. A lifetime ago, I know, but the changes continue today. There is no budget, network or otherwise, for in-depth, on-the-ground, in-the-team-hotel research anymore. And something has been lost there. But it’s more than nonexistent budgets; it is also, honestly, a function of athletes no longer needing journalists to be seen and heard. Racers can and are creating their own stories now, and posting them, painting pictures of themselves exactly how they want to be seen, burnishing their chosen self-images, without time-consuming interviews with journalists for exposure. Some athletes remain more open and willing than others, but access isn’t what it once was, making it harder to separate fact from fiction.

Cooper competes in slalom in 1982, a different era in sports and broadcasting. Photo courtesy Christin Cooper

SR: How do you feel about taped versus live broadcasts?

CC: Honestly, I don’t think live broadcasts serve the sport as well as taped shows. Strike me down for saying so. Don’t get me wrong; I love calling races live. The suspense is fantastic and it builds, and when the race finishes, our job is done. For a taped show, the work is just beginning, and we may go all night putting the show together. But the trade-off of live ski racing, for the uneducated viewer, and for growing the sport, is pretty big. No (or minimal) telestrated super slo-mo replays, split screens, Dartfish racer overlays, sit-down interviews. Core racing fans don’t need all that, of course; they just want more racers covered. But to engage the average viewer, to make the skiing truly come alive, taped shows are king. They’re like mini-movies promoting the coolness and the difficulty of our sport. Olympic coverage still allows for some of that, thankfully. And technology is constantly emerging. GoPro alone will change the landscape hugely.

SR: Tell me about the timing of your retirement.

CC: I’ve honestly been trying to get out of TV for years. To quote Dale McKussik in “Tequila Sunrise,” nobody wants me to quit. I keep getting pulled back in, or encouraged to stay. And it’s a great gig, but it’s been 30 years. It’s time to make space for the next generation — someone who is fully into the thrill of the action and being on TV.

I’m really not cut out for the TV celebrity part. Never have been, which has always baffled NBC, I think. They’re used to athlete-broadcasters looking for stardom, clamoring for air-time. If I could just stay in the booth and do the analysis, I’d be a happy camper, but with the economies of TV these days, we’re all playing multiple roles. It wasn’t that way in the beginning. And the skill sets are totally different. Standing in finish lines for eight hours, hassling athletes for breathless interviews, of which one winner’s sound bite gets used, is not my idea of a good time. Call me crazy.

It’s funny, after “retiring” in 2004, I was certain I was done, that a star would emerge to replace me, but NBC called in the fall of ‘08 wanting to put the old broadcast team together again for Vancouver. The restaurants were humming. I kind of missed the juice, and I definitely missed my guys, and the camaraderie. We had so much fun working together. And Todd, Pino and I still do! We are great lifelong friends. We’ve traveled to far-flung crazy places together, been under the same stress, witnessed so many unforgettable athletic performances, jumped many a fence around the world to get the story, or the perspective — or the fresh pow.

SR: What are your thoughts on your NBC successor?

CC: I’ve long told NBC I’d like to mentor a successor into the role, but the business doesn’t really work that way. And until I get out of the way, there’s no opportunity for someone to learn the craft, and get her reps. That’s a primary reason I’m stepping down now. My successor deserves to be ready for Korea 2018. A few network World Cups, the Worlds in St Moritz and the 2017 World Cup Finals in Aspen are all key stepping stones. It’s the right amount of time. I want the sport to be well-served.

I’m counting on NBC to do the right thing, by the way, and hire a woman for the job. I’m super stoked that Todd will call Aspen, that they’re not rushing the appointment, and he’s earned it, but in the end, it needs to be a woman representing her sport to the world.

SR: How did you get into the restaurant business and manage to make it a success?

CC: Restaurants weren’t part of any grand scheme. We just wanted to see if what we’d learned at the highest level of sports had any practical application in the real world. Mark and I had learned the importance of systems, team building, time management and setting high goals and standards. These days we are constantly assessing the state of the business, seeking ways to improve, just like we were constantly critiquing and assessing our performance as ski racers. It was challenging to bring that ethic to something new.

We chose Bozeman because we knew we were rank beginners and we wouldn’t likely survive the learning curve in a ski town. Also, we loved the place, and we wanted a college town of at least 30,000 people. We needed reasonable rents and a more forgiving customer than the often-demanding, high-maintenance ski-resort client. We made lots of mistakes in the beginning, to be charitable, at MacKenzie River. It was a bit of a s&%t show. But we were so into it, so passionate, and our customers forgave us and kept coming back. The place had soul, it had character, and Bozemanites were patient with us, allowing us to improve and refine.

Ale Works is a work in progress. We’re always striving to stay ahead of the curve. It’s an ethic we got from skiing. And we listen to people who know more than us, which is pretty much everyone we surround ourselves with.

SR: You mentioned in a note to us that you haven’t stopped caring about the sport — you imagine you always will; can you elaborate?

CC: I’ll always be fascinated by the sport because of how it mirrors life. It’s about equilibrium — maintaining balance — and it requires all these cool attributes: smarts, passion, courage, adaptability, strength, composure, focus. And for all that, it still tends to be a series of linked recoveries. Making it through the course, life, in the style that you do, is the art of it. The joy, the heartbreak, and the reward.

I’m not leaving the sport. I’m just shifting my weight.

Christin Cooper
Birthdate: October 8, 1959
Born: Los Angeles, CA
Raised: Ketchum/Sun Valley ID (from age 9)
Junior Program: Sun Valley Ski Team
Current residence: Aspen, Colo., and Bozeman, Mont.
Married: In 1987 to Mark Taché (U.S. Ski Team 1978-’85, U.S. Pro Tour 1986-’92, Junior: Aspen Ski Club); in 1993, the couple founded the Mackenzie River Pizza Company, to be followed by Pizza Solo in San Luis Obispo, Calif.; and Montana Ale Works.

Cooper and Debbie Armstrong celebrate in 1984. Photo courtesy Christin Cooper

Career Highlights

• Eight-year member U.S. Ski Team: 1977-1984
• Two-time Olympian: 1980, 1984
• Two-time World Championship Team member: 1978, 1982
• Triple Medalist, FIS World Championships, Schladming Austria: 1982
• Silver: Slalom ; Silver: Giant Slalom ; Bronze, Combined
• First American to win three medals in a single World Championships
• Only American female triple World Championship medalist
• Olympic Silver Medalist – Giant Slalom – Sarajevo, Yugoslavia: 1984
• 3^rd – World Cup Overall standings: 1982
• 3^rd – World Cup Slalom standings: 1982
• 3^rd – World Cup Giant Slalom standings: 1984
• Six-time U.S. National Champion:
• 2 X Slalom (1977, 1980) ; 2 X Giant Slalom (1980, 1984) ; 2 X Combined (1977, 1980)
• Five career World Cup wins: 2 Slalom (Berchtesgaden, GER & Montgenevre FRA 1982), 1 Giant Slalom (Lake Placid NY 1984), 2 Combined (Chamonix, FRA 1981, Piancavallo, ITA 1982)
• Inducted into U.S. Ski Hall of Fame: 1984
• Inducted into the World Sports Humanitarian Hall of Fame: October 1995

 
Photo courtesy Christin Cooper