It is I, the Ghost of Karl Emil Julius Ulrich Salchow. You can call me Ulrich. Did I scare you? Boo!
Mwahahahahahaha. Hello, Jews.
Do you remember me? Ten-time world figure skating champion? 1908 Olympic gold medalist? President of the International Skating Union, governing both figure and speed skating? Does my name ring a bell? Or does my sole presence send shivers down your spine? Boo! Boooooooooo!
Enough fright for now. For I am restless, Jews. For sixty years, I've been haunting the little village of St. Moritz. Have you ever tried scaring the Swiss? They're such a stoic bunch.
I finally realized the source of my woes. Now I know why the Swiss Alps have been the place of my restlessness. It's all because of what I did as the head of the Skating Union in the 1928 Olympics. In this same St. Moritz, damn its snowcaps. Damn!
Speed skater Irving Jaffee, one of you, Jews, was leading the 10K metre competition. He even bested the favourite, my fellow Scandinavian Bernt Evansen. But with only two heats left, the ice was deemed not skatable. The International Olympic Committee awarded the gold medal to Jaffee. But I took it away, Jews! I ruled the competition "no contest"! I am sorry, Jews! I am truly, truly sorry! Booooooooooooo!
Forgive me, Jews, could you please forgive me? For Jaffee won two golds — the 5K and the 10K — four years later in Lake Placid. That settles it, doesn't it? Doesn't it?
I'm tired, Jews, I am so very tired! Haven't I paid the price? Haven't I?