If I could have any super hero ability, I’d want the ability of half-assness.
My life would be so much easier. As it currently stands, everything I do is a challenge to achieve at the level of perfection. Grocery list? Written in Japanese. Write one of the characters a little wrong, have to start over. I went through たくさん [many] Post-it notes before I last went Krogering. Folding a fitted sheet? I might as well have been doing brain surgery. I needed a laser. Once it was folded perfectly, I refused to put it back on my bed. It is now displayed under glass (protected by that same laser) in my closet as a testament to my success. My kitchen stays in such pristine condition that my sister once explained, “Don’t you know her kitchen is just an IKEA model? It’s not for use.” And don’t get me started on life in Corporate America. Everyone around me seems perfectly content to phone it in, to ignore the email (for the love, how can you IGNORE an email?) or arrive late and leave early–in other words, half-ass it. Me? I am incapable of half-assing. I can’t even ¾ ass. Everything I do must be at 110% ass. There was a time when I didn’t think anyone else knew how it felt to live this way. Until…
Here we go. Yuzuru Hanyu.
Yuzu is a perfectionist.
And I don’t mean your run-of-the-mill perfectionist who needs his manga lined up by size or his checkbook balanced to the yen. I’m talking about the kind of perfectionist who places anvil-weighted, no mercy, crippling pressure on himself for absolute, flawless success at every single thing he does, regardless of how trivial. Yes, Yuzu always wants to win his competitions. Yes, Yuzu is never (never) satisfied with his performance. 悔しい! [Regrettable, mortifying…It’s quite the range, but in relation to Yuzu, he most certainly always means “mortifying”…] But it doesn’t end with those understandable goals of any two-time Olympian. No, Yuzu takes perfectionism to another level of perfection. Yuzu gets 110% ass. Wow. I just ended my own text thread…there’s facepalm MeMoji.
Yuzu is also (you’ve been waiting for it) particular. And no, being a perfectionist and being particular are not the same thing. Perfection is a goal. Particular is the way you go about reaching it. Let’s look to our good friend YuzTube for some examples:
Yuzu is a spokesperson for Ghana Chocolate in Japan. This is a beautiful thing. Yuzu + Chocolate makes me want two sleeping bags in Mankato. The best aspect of this partnership is the odd scenarios Ghana places Yuzu in to advertise their products. These scenarios are the ideal outlet to feature Yuzu’s ridiculous–yet 100% endearing–particular brand of perfectionism. In one video, a chocolatier (don’t ask me how to say that in Japanese) is teaching Yuzu how to temper chocolate. More specifically, tabliering chocolate which is tempering chocolate on a marble slab with two large, and somewhat deadly looking, metal spatulas. Obviously this is something every global figure skating superstar should know how to do. The moment Yuzu appears on the screen (red Ghana apron and all: Layer 7) it is blatantly clear: Yuzu doesn’t just believe he should learn how to do this. Yuzu believes he should already know how to do this…and better than anyone in the history of chocolate. He’s looking at you Switzerland. He watches the chocolatier demonstrate as if his life depends on it, then comes his turn. What’s the base value for tabliering? Breathe, Yuzu. He pushes up his sleeves (no school in Japan tomorrow, kids!) and temps away. He starts slow, making horrified sounds of dismay any time the slightest bit of chocolate evades him. By the time he reaches the other end of the table, he has to stop for some deep breathing. They cut away and flash some Japanese text on the screen before cutting back to Yuzu who is still going but now at a ridiculously professional (Swissian!) speed. I like to imagine that the text on the screen said, “13 days later…” Once again, Yuzu has succeeded. I bet the gold medal he received for tabliering had chocolate inside.
Then there is what has become known among the Fanyus as the infamous “sleeve choreography.” It happened at the end of one of his self-produced ice shows, Continues with Wings. Might I add, I think the show was named this solely because of how precious Yuzu sounds pronouncing it in English. The only better name would’ve been “The Winnnnnnies in the Fowest Ice Show” which surely is being planned for the future. Right before the finale, Yuzu has a ridiculously fast costume change. One night, he didn’t quite make it. He’s mostly intact (thank God he got his shoulders covered!) except the cuff of one sleeve is unbuttoned. Virtually unnoticeable to those of us watching on TV. Surely unnoticeable to the people watching in the arena. But it isn’t just “noticeable” to Yuzu. It is 悔しい [mortifying]. He spends the remainder of the finale attempting to discreetly get it buttoned. Skating backwards? “Must. Button. Sleeve.” Ina Bauer? “Must. Button. SLEEVE.” Hydroblade? “悔しい SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVE!!!!!!!!” But you can’t blame him. I mean, let’s get real. If he hadn’t gotten that sleeve buttoned, something really dangerous could have happened. If he got to spinning fast enough, it could’ve ridden all the way up to expose part of his shoulder.
This post is featured in Episode 3 of The FanyuFanme Podcast. Click HERE to find it on your favorite podcast platform.
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