Before the sun rises, Katherine Choi Wing-yee is already up and about, the wind in her face as she attempts double axel jumps and other spins – pulling all manner of roller-skating stunts at a rink in Victoria Park.
These moments of graceful solitude signify how Choi, 31, feels as the sole torchbearer of a niche sport in Hong Kong. Since she was 10, she has represented the city as an artistic roller skater. In this sport, athletes perform a series of moves, skating on a smooth surface instead of the ice on which figure ice skaters perform.
After her practice sessions at the park – she is there five days a week – she would normally coach ice skating. But that gig has since dried up as the venue closed amid the pandemic.
Now, Choi sews and sells skating outfits and masks to keep her skating dreams afloat.
She has won 35 local roller-skating competitions in Hong Kong. Despite her awards, Choi has had to self-fund her way through training sessions and overseas competitions because she does not get enough financial backing from the government.
“In other countries, authorities allocate enough resources to talent so they can have more athletes with good results. In Hong Kong, it goes backwards. You don’t get the resources until you win medals,” she said.
1 karate star, 2 bronzes, 3 paddlers: meet Hong Kong’s new medallists
Citing the city’s indoor cycling facility, the Hong Kong Velodrome, as an example, Choi said the government only decided to build it after top cyclist Wong Kam-po clinched gold at the 2006 Asian Games.
The 2019 China in-line figure skating champ sometimes thinks about how much more she could achieve in the sport with proper support.
‘I want a roof at least’
Hong Kong athletes’ victories at the Tokyo Olympics have put the spotlight on their journeys to the top. But lesser known is what many experience to realise their dreams.
Choi’s training ground has been the outdoor skating rink at Victoria Park since the only indoor rink for roller skaters closed in 1996.
“I want a roof at least. I know I can’t ask for a lot of things,” Choi said, adding that she could not train when it rained.
“I’ve seen many potential roller skaters quit. If they had a training venue and a coach, I know they would have wanted to continue.”
Choi is one of the city’s few remaining roller skaters and faces a raft of challenges, including not having a private coach since hers resigned in 2012. Left on her own, Choi has had no choice but to enrol in classes in Taiwan.
Because private lessons cost HK$1,000 per hour, she decided to attend group classes, which were cheaper but gave less guidance.
Prior to the pandemic, she used to travel to Taiwan up to five times a year for the training, paying for everything herself.
How are Hong Kong student athletes coping with the Covid-19 pandemic?
“My mother always accompanied me and would record the sessions,” Choi said.
These video clips are crucial to her weekly two-hour stints with a Brazilian coach she has recently been working with. Their sessions are held via Zoom, and Choi sends him the clips so he can analyse her moves and give feedback.
But these short sessions are no replacement for an in-person full-time private coach.
Limited support for Hong Kong’s elite
Under the government’s current elite sport training system, sports events are categorised into Tier A and Tier B.
Tier A events refer to those that have been included in the Asian Games or the Olympic Games at least three times since 1997. Tier B sports include non-Asian and Olympic Games sports such as roller sports and taekwondo.
Athletes are then graded according to their performance in competitions on a scale of Elite A+ to C. The places they win in competitions determine the funding and resources they receive, such as using the Hong Kong Sports Institute facilities and accessing free physiotherapy sessions.
For those who fail to place in the top three in tournaments, resources and funding are cut upon a two-year review.
Choi managed to reach the Elite C level twice, and received two one-off grants totalling about HK$120,000. It is a direct subsidy under the Individual Athletes Support Scheme, which covers coaching, training and sports equipment for athletes whose sports are not under Tier A.
“The money was only enough to cover my competition expenses and two trips to Taiwan to take classes there,” she said.
Later on, Choi failed to get more funding under the same programme because results in events with fewer than four participating countries or regions are not considered.
An uphill skate
Given the limited resources, Choi said it was hard for less well-off athletes to afford coaching fees and overseas competition expenses.
Not being part of any of the city’s elite funding programmes, the skater faces a constant struggle to make ends meet, especially as her ice-skating job was put on hold due to the coronavirus outbreak.
To earn enough cash to support herself from April to June, she sewed 400 masks and sold them on social media.
Hong Kong cyclist Sarah Lee’s journey to the top
Despite the uphill battle, Choi is not ready to give up and has set her sights on qualifying for the Asian Games next year.
“I am willing to walk this path alone ... it would be a shame to see it go extinct in the city,” the determined athlete said of her sport.
