Jean-Claude Killy: France's king of the ski slopes

Contemporary Review, March, 2005 by Barnett Singer

The Last French Monument (General de Gaulle) opened the games, and the first big event, downhill, appropriately became a duel of two Frenchmen. Ironically, Killy had scraped off Arpin's magnificent wax job just before the race, yet managed to beat Guy Perillat's prior time by .08 of a second--an almost Einsteinian time designation! It was close, but it was gold.

Then came the giant slalom, and Val d'Isere saluted both this alumnus, as he copped a more smashing victory in major event number two, and Marielle Goitschel, his childhood tomboy friend, who also won gold here. To win the third leg in slalom, and a Grand Slam, was now within the realm of possibility.

But Killy knew how demanding the event would be with its many gates, weather alternating from foggy to clear to foggy, and with two runs combined into a total. He decided to ski rather conservatively, and was bested in time by a Norwegian, who, however, had missed a couple of gates, it turned out, and was disqualified.

But Killy did not have his slam in the bag. An arch-rival, Austria's Karl Schranz, who had also missed gates in the fog, was permitted a supplementary run, supposedly (as he pleaded) due to a police official obstructing him on the slopes. With his re-run Schranz bested Killy by .34 of a second; however, a jury then voted by three to one (with one abstention) that Schranz had exaggerated his case, and that Killy's victory ought to stand.

With this slight taint, the feat was complete, and Jean-Claude stood on the summit of the ski world. He knew there was nowhere to go but down, and was already looking for something solid in the business realm, particularly with Avery Brundage becoming rigorous about so-called amateur status in the sport.

Never one to chase sponsors before, Killy now decided to sign with an American sports agent, Mark McCormack, who had worked with golf's Arnold Palmer, among others. The Killy name soon helped flog Chevrolets, Eagle shirts, United Airlines, and Evian water, as well as items in his own field (among which, Lange boots and Head skis).

Jean-Claude's love of America was not merely due to its openhearted response to his Gallic verve; nor was it just the ready gush of dollars emananating from its corporate offices. Another reason was perhaps that despite his success he was still at bottom a marginal at home, but less so in that mixed societal salad that was America. Having kept much inside over the years, he would feel at home in a psychologically limber atmosphere veering into the 'Me Decade'.

A buried yen to ski competitively came back in the early seventies, when the idea of a professional racing circuit in the States took hold. Some of the proposed venues, like Vermont's Mount Snow, were derisory, compared to skiing in the shadow of the Jungfrau or above Grenoble; but Killy took it seriously, supported now by the kind of wife he perhaps was destined to marry.

For instead of one of many ski bunny groupies he could have walked down the aisle, this man, seared by his mother's abandonment, chose a mature actress, Danielle Gaubert, as his wife, already possessing two children from her previous marriage to Trujillo's son. They became a fine match, and he even learned aspects of her trade and made a movie with her.