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Fast rise in sport didn't change skater's Midwest values

In February 2006, Evan Lysacek was preparing to leave for the Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy. A disastrous short program would doom his medal chances, but a spectacular free skate would lift him to fourth place.

No longer a relative unknown, things had changed dramatically for the Naperville skater since his early days in Naperville. Excerpts from our account:

Evan Lysacek is in demand.

E! Entertainment Television wants to speak with him. News programs want to do features on him.

There are constant interview requests from the print media. A new newspaper, it seems, almost every day.

For a Midwestern kid on the brink of the most important competition of his 20-year-old life, it can be a bit taxing.

"I'm exhausted," Lysacek said two days before leaving for the Turin Olympics. "All this is going on and I still have to train, which is the most important thing."

He ends his complaint there. He knows there are countless people who would love his place on the U.S. Figure Skating team in Turin.

Lysacek may have moved to Southern California three years ago to train, but the Naperville native stresses he has not gone Hollywood. He remembers everything - and everyone - that helped him get to this point in his career.

"A lot of doors have been opened," the 2005 world bronze medalist says. "It's kind of cool, but I can't take all the credit. I'm really grateful for everything I have. And more important, I know I have to be grateful."

Lysacek's fame and good fortune have come after a decade of hard work, most of it done in cold DuPage County ice rinks. He began skating at age 8 after his grandmother - who always wanted to be in the Ice Capades - gave him skates for Christmas.

In less than two years, he won the national crown in the juvenile division. By 14, he had captured both the novice and junior titles as well.

He did it all, as well as winning two of his three junior world championship medals, while taking an unorthodox path by figure skating standards. He stayed at home with his parents, went to school every day and had a life outside the rink.

His parents, Don and Tanya, proved it was possible to raise an Olympian without having to sacrifice his childhood. They're as proud of the fact that their middle child ate dinner with his family every night as they are of his medals.

"He had a very well-rounded upbringing," Tanya Lysacek said. "And he's still well-rounded. Even though he's in L.A., he still has those Midwestern values he grew up with and that's important to us." -

While his junior-level peers trained at elite facilities with big-name coaches, Lysacek maintained a no-frills training regimen at rinks in Aurora, Woodridge and Addison.

"The daily grind wasn't the hardest part," Tanya Lysacek said last week. "The hardest part was making some of the tough family decisions."

After graduating from high school, Lysacek moved west to train with Frank Carroll, the legendary skating coach who helped make Michelle Kwan an icon. Under Carroll's tutelage, he began a meteoric rise that resulted in a bronze medal at the 2005 World Championships.

The podium finish trumpeted Lysacek's arrival on the international scene and made him a legitimate contender for an Olympic medal. It also brought a plethora of opportunities.

Lysacek began to receive invitations to movie premieres and other red-carpet events. He rubbed elbows with celebrities like Matthew Perry, Jessica Alba and Brooke Burke.

The medal also gave him a financial stability he hadn't known in his career. After covering his expenses, he bought himself a white Range Rover.

He gave his parents a Mercedes 500 SL for their 24th wedding anniversary.

"It was the absolute least I could do for them after all they have done for me," Lysacek said.

Lysacek finds it difficult to talk about his newfound celebrity. He denies he's famous, even though he now gets recognized at Starbucks and the bank.

NBC, which is broadcasting the Olympics, created a Tigerbeat-esque Web site for him, complete with tidbits on his favorite foods and what kind of water he drinks. The site also mentions that Lysacek's Illinois cell phone number ends in 2-0-0-6.

He received the number by chance in middle school and refused to change it for superstitious reasons after moving to California. Once that information hit the Internet, a few resourceful - if overly zealous - fans figured out his number and gave him a call.

"There have been quite a few," he says laughing. "I'm waiting two more weeks (until after the Olympics) and then I'm going to change it." -

At the recent U.S. Figure Skating Championships last month, however, the fan adulation did overwhelm Lysacek, who was trying to focus on winning an Olympic berth. He spent most of the week holed up in his hotel room because he was mobbed every time he stepped into the lobby.

When in public during the competition, though, he made it a point to interact with fans. He also stayed on the ice for nearly an hour after the medal ceremony to sign programs and pose for pictures.

All the while, preteen girls screamed, "Evan! Evan! We love you, Evan!"

Security guards eventually turned off the arena lights, but Lysacek continued to sign in the dark until the final autograph was signed and the last giddy girl acknowledged. -

He still keeps in touch with childhood pals and people who knew him before the international acclaim.

He performs in the same charity shows he skated in as a high school student. And he continues to represent the DuPage Figure Skating Club, even though he could align himself with more prestigious clubs in California.

"It's important to me that I don't lose my old ties," he said. "It keeps me sane." -

Lysacek can remain humble, in part, because he remembers how hard he worked to get to this point. It's one thing to dream of being an Olympian, it's another to put in all the work and sacrifice.

The successes came, but not easily. For each four-minute routine, there were hours and hours of practice.

There were injuries like a fractured hip and tendinitis. There was relentless physical growth that required the now 6-foot-tall Lysacek to relearn his jumps with each spurt.

And there were a few disappointments, including a disheartening 12th place finish at nationals in 2003.

"If you look back," Lysacek says, "it's amazing where I actually was a few years ago." -

"I feel like every little step in my career has been like climbing a ladder," Lysacek says. "With each step I took, the rung below me fell off. I've just kept moving forward."

Moving forward, however, doesn't mean forgetting his roots. Even though he doesn't get home often and Southern Californians now claim him as their own, he still thinks of himself as a boy from the Chicago suburbs.

"That hasn't changed," he said. "I tell everyone that I'll always be a Napervillian at heart."

-- Stacy St. Clair