In his own words
"I think what my Olympic participation shows is that you don't have to be the best in the world to be popular."

Bio
The first man ever to represent Britain in an Olympic jumping event, Edwards shocked officials in 1988 by qualifying for the event simply because no other Brit applied and because he recorded a 77-meter jump--small by Olympic standards--in Australia. With only two seasons of jumping under his belt, the short and stocky 26-year-old had more experience in the construction trades when he showed up in Calgary. "I liked plastering," he says.

He quickly became the darling of the media, but a fraud to Olympic purists. Nicknamed "Mr. Magoo" by many journalists for his thick glasses and round, owlish head, Edwards charmed spectators and the media with his working-class wit and seemingly fearless jumping style. But his popularity and his easy access to Olympic credentials created a backlash. Now, under the new rule known by competitors as the "Eddie the Eagle rule," prospective Olympic athletes must compete in international events and place in the top 30 percent or the top 50 competitors. At Calgary, Edwards finished 55th in a field of 56 jumpers (the 56th jumper was disqualified). That's why, in order to replay his everyman tale in Nagano, the 32-year-old jumper must now train for the expensive World Cup circuit. With a five-year sponsorship from Eagle Airlines, a small British charter company that serves Guernsey Island, Edwards is rededicating himself to the art of human flight on skis.

First impression
He's not Mr. Magoo. He's Elton John, sans piano. His glasses are thick and awkward, his hair is thin and, at 5 feet 8 inches and 180 pounds, he looks more like, well, a construction worker than a ski jumper. (Most jumpers are light and lanky kids; American jumpers, some of the heaviest on the World Cup circuit, barely tip the 160-pound mark.) But when Edwards speaks, it's clear why he's a successful one-man marketing machine. He's irreverent, funny, knowledgeable, and in his own inimitable way, driven. Just ask him about the five-year sponsorship--wages and all expenses--that he waggled from the owner of Eagle Airlines. Whatever his athletic shortcomings, Eddie Edwards is an Olympic-caliber salesman, from the P.T. Barnum school of persuasion.

Do you sometimes resent the fact that you're considered the clown of ski jumping by many international competitors?
I resent the Mr. Magoo image, that's for sure. That hurts sometimes. I don't mind so much being known as a funny guy, but I also want to be known as a good ski jumper. Maybe not the best in the world, but something respectable. With my sponsorship, I can jump every day now. It's up to me to prove to everybody now that I can do it.

Your performance at Calgary thrust ski jumping into the living rooms of Olympic winter sports fans around the world. Still, you've been given a cold shoulder by ski jump officials. Do you feel misunderstood?

I only made such a splash in Calgary because no jumper had an international jumping profile. There are a lot of good jumpers out there, but they're very boring. So that part, getting everyone's attention, that was easy. But the ski officials didn't like all the attention; they said I was making a mockery of the sport. I wasn't. I couldn't be more serious.

How do other ski jumpers react to all the press you've received over the years?
I try not to worry about other jumpers' resentment. If other guys have a problem with who I am or what I am, frankly, that's their problem. During the Calgary Olympics, the Scandinavians were the most upset. They wonder why the media doesn't go to them--they're always miserable. You've got to be good with the media. That goes for any sport. If you're open and friendly and have a sense of humor, it'll be good for you and good for your sport.

What is your strategy for qualifying for the Nagano Winter Olympics?
Train, train, train. I'll be training all summer in Lake Placid, jumping on plastic [the artificial snow surface] from May to October. My goal is to do 1,000 jumps this summer. Then, in November 1996, I'll train in Norway and Finland, and then return to Lake Placid for the Intercontinental Cup in December 1996. The following year will be more of the same, except with the qualifiers for the 1998 Olympics. Nagano is definitely in my sights.

What do you want to do when you're through with ski jumping?
I want to be a stuntman, in movies. Hey, I've got all that experience jumping cars and busses at fairs and the like. I love entertainment.

Jim Gould is a professor of writing and literature in the Environmental Studies Program at Paul Smith's College in the Adirondacks. His work has appeared in The New York Times, The Washington Post, New York Magazine, and other publications. He covered the U.S. Cross-Country Ski Championships in January 1996, for Outside Online.