CALGARY -- Eddie the Eagle considers Calgary his nest, the incubator. And Eddie Edwards can't wait to return to the scene of the fame.
"It was where I was born, where the eagle was hatched. It's where it all began for me," said the British ski-jumper who spun failure into enduring triumph as the congenial Mr. Magoo of the 90-metre plunge.
Edwards was arguably more memorable than any of the 1988 medal-winners, even though it could be said his last-place finishes in the 60- and 90-metre events spawned a new sporting species: The flightless underdog.
The image of Edwards plummeting off the Canada Olympic Park ski jump, arms flailing and comical grin broadly flashing, remain one of the Games' trademarks.
So it's no surprise to Edwards that he is attending a 20th-anniversary celebration.
The darling of the '88 Games doesn't really know what he'll be doing at the reunion event. But if someone in Calgary sends him a hint or lends him some skis, he'd be willing to relive the airborne terror that sealed his destiny.
"If the people involved say I should bring my jumping skis, the 120 metres might be a little difficult, but I'd like to do one kind of jump," said Edwards, now 44, from his home near Cheltenham, England.
The full dimension of The Eagle's legend caught Edwards off-guard, although he knew his jerry-rigged Olympic debut would attract notice.
"I thought I'd get a certain amount of attention, even just from the British press," he says. "But I had no idea it would take on a life of its own."
That he was self-funded leading up to the Calgary Games and had trained with a helmet secured by string only endeared him to the masses.
"I was scraping food out of bins, you know, that sort of thing," he said of his training.
He was also significantly overweight for the sport, though he dubbed many of his competitors "anorexic."
And when he attempted to soar, Edwards' optics weren't state-of-the-art. His trademark pop bottle spectacles would fog up, but "the air would flow through and clear my glasses before I took off."
While Edwards, who still works the after-dinner speaker circuit, insists he wasn't any more afraid of heights than the next jumper, he was aware of the gravity to which he'd landed himself.
"There was always a chance that my next jump would be my last -- a big chance," he told the British Guardian.
Edwards' profile in Calgary led to the tightening up of qualifications at the Olympics, the so-called Eddie Rule -- a legacy he admits he doesn't take much pride in.
