MILAN — From the very outset, an issue became apparent. There was a hesitancy, an uncertainty to Ilia Malinin’s free skate on Friday, completely uncharacteristic of the individual known as the “Quad God.” This was his chance at a gold medal, and it felt like it was slipping through his grasp.
He successfully executed his initial move, a quad flip, but it had the air of an unexpected stroke of luck, akin to a basketball shot from half-court unexpectedly finding the net, rather than the intended opening of a flawless performance. Following this, he progressed towards his intended quad axel, a maneuver unique to him, one that had the potential to secure his position at the top of the podium.
He hesitated … and his opportunity vanished.
In what is being described as one of the most astonishing downfalls in the history of Olympic figure skating, Malinin plummeted from a near-guaranteed gold medal position to an eighth-place finish. Kazakhstan’s Mikhail Shaidorov secured the gold, while Japan’s Yuma Kagiyama earned the silver, and Japan’s Shun Sato claimed the bronze. Malinin concluded with a total score of 264.49, significantly trailing Shaidorov’s 291.58, Kagiyama’s 280.06, and Sato’s 274.90.
This outcome was unforeseen by everyone—Malinin himself, figure skating enthusiasts, and even the sports betting markets, which had placed Malinin as an overwhelming -10000 favorite to triumph.
As Malinin addressed the press following his routine, screens within the Olympic mixed zone beneath the arena displayed the three medalists ascending the platform. Malinin appeared to avoid looking in their direction, though the playing of Kazakhstan’s national anthem in the arena made him fully aware of the proceedings.
USA’s Ilia Malinin went from gold medal favorite in the men’s individual competition to failing to medal Friday at the Milan Cortina Olympics.
(Qian Jun/MB Media via Getty Images)
Malinin’s free skate performance commences, somewhat ironically, with a recording of his own voice. “True knowledge lies in recognizing one’s ignorance,” his voice reverberates through the quiet venue as he stands centered on the ice, poised to begin.
Ordinarily, these spoken words would resonate as an empowering declaration. On Friday evening, however, they conveyed a sense of dejection, seeming like a desperate plea for self-reassurance before a global audience.
Malinin explained that prior to adopting his starting posture, he was overcome by a surge of past experiences and thoughts, describing it as an overwhelming sensation that he struggled to manage in that specific moment.
The spectators at the Assago Ice Skating Arena witnessed the unraveling of his performance as each planned element faltered. The quad loop, a core component of Malinin’s intended routine, became a double loop. His triple flip never materialized. The quad salchow degenerated into a double salchow, culminating in Malinin falling to the ice. At that point, the outcome was sealed by the unyielding mathematics of the scoring system.
After his performance, Malinin conveyed to NBC his immediate thought: that he had “messed up.” He expressed disbelief that such an event had occurred, having spent the entire season preparing and feeling highly confident in his program. He found himself at a loss for words regarding the unexpected turn of events.
This underscores the severe nature of Olympic competition, particularly in figure skating. Athletes dedicate their entire existence to this demanding and unpredictable discipline, sacrificing typical life experiences like schooling, friendships, and leisure time, all in pursuit of perfection. Yet, in the most ironic twist, the closer one approaches this pinnacle, the more plausible perfection seems, only for these aspirations to evaporate within minutes. The greater the ascent, the more profound the descent.
Malinin, aged 21, appeared both remarkably youthful and profoundly jaded and disheartened in the aftermath of his skate. He confronted numerous media outlets, scores of cameras, microphones, and interviewers, all seeking an explanation for how such a collapse could have happened. How could a skater who had dominated the sport – securing two consecutive world championships, four consecutive national championships, and remaining undefeated globally since November 2023 – crumble so abruptly and completely?
Though the words were available, Malinin seemed uneasy articulating them, much like his performance earlier. He admitted to vulnerability, an unconventional confession for an athlete. However, it appeared to be the appropriate response given the circumstances. What alternative did he have?
Malinin stated that his initial belief was simply to go out and rely on his established process, as he had for every prior competition. He acknowledged, however, that this was distinct from any other event, being the Olympics. He suggested that the true extent of the pressure and nerves is only fully comprehended from an insider’s perspective, describing it as an overwhelming force over which he felt no control.
He briefly alluded to a potential contributing factor, remarking that “perhaps the ice conditions were not ideal for what I would have preferred,” but promptly retracted this implication. After all, every competitor uses the same ice, and merely matching the scores of any of the three skaters immediately preceding him would have secured him a medal.
After Malinin withdrew from public view, and as the spectators exited the arena, a final, poignant irony unfolded. Over the public address system—the very one that had carried Malinin’s own voice just minutes before—a well-meaning DJ, perhaps unwittingly, played Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida,” with its unfortunately relevant lyrics for Malinin’s situation.
I used to rule the world … One minute, I held the key / Next the walls were closed on me …
A considerable period stretches before the 2030 Olympics, scheduled for Chamonix, France. Should Malinin participate then, he will at least have the benefit of prior experience.
