Sporting perfection is a rare thing, even at the Olympic Games.
It is largely reserved for events that involve judging, like gymnast Nadia Comaneci's famous 10s on the uneven bars and vault in Montreal in 1976.
But 42 years ago today, a British pair of figure skaters produced one of the most iconic performances in the sport's history, indeed Olympic history as a whole.
Jayne Torvill and Christopher Dean produced more than four minutes of perfect artistry on the ice, and skaters around the world have been chasing them ever since.
Everyone of a certain age with any interest in Olympic sport knows where they were on Valentine's Day 1984 (or the early hours of February 15 in Australia) when Torvill and Dean blew the judges' minds — and the audience's hearts — with their routine set to Bolero by Maurice Ravel.
The pair, an insurance clerk and a trainee policeman, respectively, were an unlikely duo of Olympic legends. It was thanks to a generous grant from a local council in Nottingham, where they lived, that allowed Torvill and Dean to chase their Olympic dream and eventually quit their jobs to skate full-time.
Ice dance — more art, less acrobatics
There are two types of skating for teams of two — ice dancing and pairs.
Torvill and Dean started out with different partners in pairs before joining together, later switching to ice dance in the mid to late 1970s.
The difference between the two is that pairs skating involves big acrobatic moves like jumps, spins and throws, while ice dance is more about dance patterns, lifts and step sequences like twizzles.
Today, there are just two parts of competition in ice dance — the rhythm (formerly short) dance and the free dance.
Back in 1984, there were three.
There was the compulsory dance, where all duos would do the same moves at the same tempo, covering two circuits of the arena. Marks depended on their level of mastery of fundamental elements.
Then there was the original set pattern dance (later the original dance), where duos did their own two-minute routines, but to a set rhythm and type of music, such as rock or salsa.
The free dance has always been the finale of competition, with the largest proportion of marks riding on it. It is the performance that decides the medals in any competition.
Back in 1984, ice dance was more free form, with fewer set elements in the free dance. The marks were more of a general judging of artistic impression and technical merit than today.
Musicals inspire Torvill and Dean
This allowed partnerships like Torvill and Dean to focus more on the dance and sweeping movements, and using their bodies to support each other as almost one entity.
What grabbed people's attention about the British pair was how close they were, moving across the ice in total synchronicity, regardless of the tempo.
By the time they got to Sarajevo in 1984, they had built a reputation for striking performances that remained in people's memories.
Through various seasons, their routines of the year were a huge hit as they competed around Europe and North America, before peaking at the World Championships.
Musicals proved a perfect inspiration for their brilliant free dances, with Mack and Mabel and Barnum creating a stir in consecutive years.
The actor and performer Michael Crawford, the star of Barnum in the West End, turned up in the so-called "kiss and cry" area — where skaters wait to see their scores — to support them in the 1983 World Championships in Helsinki, Finland.
He had proven and would continue to prove to be a key element in their success heading into the Olympics.
Torvill and Dean's routine, like the musical itself, was a throwback to vaudeville and the spectacle of the Barnum and Bailey circus.
It got the crowd cheering, peaking with a manoeuvre where Dean put his head between Torvill's legs and flipped her over his back to land perfectly in time for the finishing pose.
That move brought the house down, the whole amazing program leading to a deluge of floral bouquets and an extended standing ovation.
The BBC's Alan Weeks was not wrong when he said on commentary:
"They seem to have set a new dimension in ice dancing."
As the artistic marks came up, with a row of perfect 6.0s, an astonished Crawford pumped his fist in celebration, shouting "you did it, you did it", while coach Betty Callaway and Torvill and Dean wore giant smiles as everyone embraced.
This, of course, was the world titles. The challenge was to get a similar result at the Winter Olympics.
Bolero time-critical for Torvill and Dean
Time played a critical part in the proceedings that night in Sarajevo.
The British pair were hot favourites to win, and last to compete in the free dance.
Their main rivals were the Russian couple Nataliya Bestemianova and Andrei Bukin.
Normally, once the previous pair's scores flash up on the scoreboard, and the applause dies down, the next pair skate onto the ice to get ready for their routine.
But Torvill and Dean were left hanging for a while in the Zetra Stadium before going on.
A little girl was on skates near the boards around the rink, trying to pick something off the ice — and finding it a little difficult. She was so small the top of her head was barely seen above the top of the boards.
The crowd loved it, and Torvill and Dean were seen smiling on camera, although they probably were keyed up as anything waiting for their chance.
The importance of getting the timing right was not just due to the delay. For the most consequential skate of their lives, Torvill and Dean were pushing the rules right to the edge.
Any piece of music used for free dance routines has a time limit. At that stage, the limit was four minutes, plus or minus 10 seconds.
Unfortunately for them, the arranger of the music for the Bolero routine had told them that he couldn't get the piece to come in under four minutes and 28 seconds.
What could they do?
The letter of the law was that the timing of the routine didn't start until a pair's blades hit the ice. So Torvill and Dean began the routine kneeling on the ice — with only the toe pick of the skate touching, not the blade itself.
They faced each other and swayed in place as the opening 18 seconds played, led by the distinctive sound of the snare-drum that acted like the heartbeat of the piece.
Dean lifted Torvill horizontally in the air, before setting her down on her skates — only then could the British duo begin moving around the rink, but even by that point the crowd was already mesmerised with their graceful, sinuous manoeuvres and the beautiful music.
Tragic love story brings the house down
Dean was the main choreographer who helped dream up their incredible routines, drawing up stunning artistic exploitations of the laws of physics.
The pair never lost touch with each other for the entire performance, twisting and turning, and producing an ice-bound version of the original musical story, which was written by Ravel as a ballet piece for the Russian dancer Ida Rubinstein.
Torvill and Dean played the parts of a pair of tragic lovers, destined for death in a fiery volcano.
Their complete trust in each other was evident in every step, spin, lift and move on the ice. It was almost as if they breathed as one, so closely in sync were they.
Everything was perfect, and as the piece built to a climax, the music flared in intensity, matched by Dean using his strength to twist Torvill around in sudden yet graceful moves.
When she landed again from the final savage twirl, and both skaters were together, the organ melody rose to a dramatic conclusion, then dropped at the end as the two fell to the ice.
The crowd erupted.
The pair had got used to receiving a mix of 5.9s and 6.0s for technical merit, and so it proved. When the scores went up, there were six 5.9s and three perfect 6.0s.
It was perfectly clear who had won the gold medal, it was simply time to crown them.
The anticipation was everything in the Zetra Stadium — and in millions of homes worldwide gathered around their TV sets, including a staggering 24 million people in Britain alone.
Torvill and Dean were still skating around the rink, getting hugs from people and carrying vast bouquets of flowers.
Then the artistic impression scores appeared, and the roar from the crowd told everything.
The British pair looked up and it was a moment of joy.
No arguments from any of the nine judges, it was an Olympic first — a perfect row of 6.0s.
"Tonight, we reached the pinnacle. I don't remember the performance at all. It just happened," Dean said later.
Crawford was there again to witness their triumph. He had taught Torvill and Dean the acting skills to hone their performances and display their emotions for the crowd and the judges.
In the crowd to watch the finale were a range of supporters, including royalty, in the shape of Britain's Princess Anne.
Amateur 'retirement' sparks 40 more years of creativity
Torvill and Dean made one final appearance at the World Championships the following month in Canada, winning one more crown with Bolero.
They had achieved all they wanted in amateur sport, and so they turned professional to make a living from their creative brilliance. Numerous tours and TV appearances followed before they returned to the Winter Olympics in Lillehammer in 1994.
Then 34 and 35 respectively, they competed for Great Britain once again and won a bronze medal.
Fittingly, their performance in the Games-ending gala event was none other than Bolero.
In 2024, Torvill and Dean returned to Sarajevo to mark the 40-year anniversary of their Olympic triumph.
They used the opportunity to announce their retirement at the end of the following year, after a final tour.
Torvill and Dean wrapped up 2025 with their final performance — naturally, including Bolero — back in their hometown of Nottingham, where it had all begun, half a century before.
And then the British New Year's Honours list came out, and there they were with the final step in the chain — after an MBE in 1981 and an OBE in 2000, it was time to welcome Dame Jayne Torvill and Sir Christopher Dean.
As everyone once again recognised their greatness, the truth remained crystal clear.
As spectacular as their earlier performances were, the reason that Torvill and Dean are still the byword of ice dance is down to those four minutes and 28 seconds on the Olympic ice in Sarajevo, 42 years ago, and the brilliance of their Bolero that captured people's hearts around the world.
