Springtime for Tonya

By Jill Smolowe

Tonya Harding may have missed a crucial triple Axel in Lillehammer, but she managed to execute a flawless triple entendre in Oregon last week. Standing abjectly before Judge Donald Londer, Harding pleaded guilty to hindering investigators' efforts to unravel the conspiracy behind the Jan. 6 attack on skater Nancy Kerrigan. Then Harding offered the hushed courtroom a single sentence: "I'd just like to say I'm really sorry that I interfered." It was a nice bit of public contrition, but what exactly did it mean? Was Harding * sorry that that her actions had obstructed the investigation? Or was she sorry that on that day in Detroit -- oh, so many medals, tears and lies ago -- she interfered with Kerrigan's skating? Or was she simply sorry that the hearing had inconvenienced the judge, who had rushed back to court from a vacation?

We will probably never know. The event that began with a whack! has ended with a less-than-satisfying whimper. By plea-bargaining her way out of the tangle, Harding has ensured that she will never have to answer the question that dogged her all the way to the Olympics and back: Did she have a hand in planning the assault on Kerrigan? For her part of the bargain, Harding will pay a $100,000 state fine, make a $50,000 donation to the Special Olympics and reimburse the Multnomah County prosecutor's office for $10,000 in court costs. In addition, she must perform 500 hours of community service, undergo a psychiatric evaluation and spend three years under supervised probation, which restricts her movement to the three West Coast states. Finally, Harding was ordered to quit the U.S. Figure Skating Association and immediately pull out of this week's World Championships in Japan.

The plea bargain surprised and upset many players in the 69-day soap opera. The U.S. Figure Skating Association, which had counted on Harding to head its squad in Japan now that Kerrigan seems to be retiring from amateur sport, hastily tapped national bronze medalist Nicole Bobek to fill the empty slot. That leaves two young skaters with little experience in international competition -- Bobek, 16, and Olympic alternate Michelle Kwan, 13 -- to represent the U.S.

William Hybl, chairman of the association's disciplinary board, vowed that the plea bargain would not get in the way of Harding's hearing, scheduled to begin June 27. Though the group can no longer impose its harshest penalty -- Harding has already resigned under duress -- it can still strip Harding of the national title she earned two days after the assault on Kerrigan. It could also demand a refund of the tens of thousands of dollars the association provided for training. The U.S. Olympic Committee might also demand reimbursement for training expenses and strip Harding of the commemorative items given to her in Lillehammer. There's even speculation that the committee may strike Harding's name from the 1994 U.S. Olympic team records -- as if anyone could forget.

While all this might cause Harding further discomfort, a strict cost-benefit % analysis of the deal suggests that the national champ is no chump. True, the Kerrigan attack -- which the four admitted co-conspirators priced at $6,500 -- will cost Harding $160,000. But unlike the men who pulled off the criminal prank, among them ex-husband Jeff Gillooly, Harding faces no prospect of prison time. The travel restrictions still give her access to California, where a production company has promised her an undisclosed sum for the rights to her story. And none of this appears to affect a $300,000 deal she reportedly signed with Inside Edition.

Even so, prosecutor Norman Frink insists that justice was well served. The plea bargain, he notes, will save Multnomah County the cost of a lengthy trial. Perhaps not incidentally, it will also spare Frink the task of mounting a counterattack to Harding's expected battered-wife argument -- a line of defense that finds increasing sympathy among juries.

In the end, the biggest losers may be the millions of Harding fans and detractors who have stayed breathlessly tuned to As Tonya Turns. Now they can only speculate. If the prosecution had proceeded, Frink says, Harding would have been hit with charges of racketeering and conspiracy to commit second- degree assault. As part of the plea agreement, Harding admitted to being actively involved in a cover-up. That was a step beyond her Jan. 18 confession to the FBI, when she maintained that she was guilty of nothing more than failing to notify authorities after learning of the plot. But the pre-attack phone calls from her home to Kerrigan's training rink remain unexplained, as do the notes, recovered from a bag of Harding's trash, that listed Kerrigan's rink and training times.

Sins of omission -- or commission? We may never know.

With reporting by Patrick E. Cole/Los Angeles