With controlled daring, Ilia Malinin rotated as he soared off the ice, eyes fixed and legs tucked. His landing of the quadruple axel, the most difficult jump in figure skating, silenced the Milan audience. The ensuing roar was especially well-earned.
Things like these don’t happen very often. Aspirations have always been tested on Olympic ice, but Malinin’s program seemed remarkably audacious. The backflip, which was originally prohibited but is now carefully allowed, was not only a throwback when he included it. A declaration was made.
His performance was notable not only for its difficulty but also for its assurance. Men’s figure skating has seen a significant increase in technical ceiling in recent years. However, what Malinin accomplished felt remarkably akin to an act of artistic revolt. There was no guarantee of the quad axel. However, it did land, was evaluated, and become ingrained in Olympic memory.
Terry Kubicka’s illegal backflip in 1976 was captured on shaky footage that I recently watched. The taste was like a dare. The Malinin version? Clean, smooth, and incorporated into a routine that already pushed the boundaries of athleticism, it demonstrated a remarkable ability to captivate judges and spectators.
| Category | Detail |
|---|---|
| Event | Men’s Singles Figure Skating |
| Location | Milano Cortina, Italy |
| Dates | February 10 (Short Program), February 13 (Free Skate), 2026 |
| Venue | Forum di Milano, Milan |
| Gold Medal Favorite | Ilia Malinin (USA) |
| Notable Highlight | First-ever legal Olympic backflip since 1976, performed by Malinin |
| Technical Milestone | Malinin attempts quadruple axel – most difficult jump in the sport |
| Previous U.S. Gold | Nathan Chen (2022), Evan Lysacek (2010), Scott Hamilton (1984) |
| Governing Body | International Skating Union (ISU) |
| Source | Olympics.com – Figure Skating 2026 |
Yuma Kagiyama introduced a tone that was entirely different. While avoiding extremes, his program charmed with its graceful accuracy and serene theatricality. He received plaudits before the music ended for his spins, especially the last combination, which were performed with remarkably clear edges.
Adam Siao Him Fa increased the intensity by carefully performing a sequence of quad jumps. Compared to his team skate, his bronze-winning performance was noticeably better, demonstrating how recuperation and reorientation can completely alter an Olympic trajectory.
Maxim Naumov’s skate, however, had an emotional impact that no moment could match. With silent solemnity, he went through the routine, dedicating his program to his late parents. Although he made a triple loop error, he was clearly moved when he exited the ice. Instead of perfection, the audience reacted to something that was truly felt.
Emotion and hardship met in an extraordinarily balanced way throughout these finals. Some skaters lost technical points for having an under-rotated leap or a misaligned quad, but it didn’t detract much from their narrative. That difference was important.
With his technical base value and Grade of Execution bonuses, Malinin’s overall score put him far ahead. In order to streamline operations and create more room for artistic expression, the program composition rewarded his ability to switch between large sections quickly.
Despite the ongoing discussion over whether scoring excessively encourages jumps, this final showed that artistic expression is still relevant. Kagiyama has smooth, incredibly melodic edgework and transitions. The tempo and facial expressions of Siao Him Fa provided narrative context for his jumps. Furthermore, Naumov’s show served as a reminder to audiences that skating is fundamentally a kind of storytelling in motion.
Although Daniel Grassl of Italy did not place on the podium, the local audience cheered him on. The structure of his dance, which was set to a simple piano accompaniment, was especially inventive. He fell on his quad lutz, but his stance was unwavering. In a sport where recuperation is the norm, his fortitude was remarkable.
Kazakhstan’s Mikhail Shaidorov, who played to a science fiction-inspired soundtrack with lighting effects that some admired and others found annoying, was one unexpected change. His immense versatility and eagerness to try new things led to comparisons to avant-garde performances that are rarely seen at this level.
This year, many athletes sought to push limits both technically and thematically by incorporating new choreography styles. There were narrative components in a number of presentations, ranging from tales of loss to futuristic computerized visions. Considering how the clothing design and music choices deviate even more from traditional conventions, that layering felt exceptionally creative.
Since the ISU changed its rules on the backflip, instructors have cautioned against putting show before substance. However, after becoming proficient with the quad axel, Malinin made the bold decision to include it, and it paid off. In a symbolic as well as a technical sense. It demonstrated how safety regulations that were originally feared may be carefully changed over time.
By using strategic preparation, Team USA established Malinin as a new standard as well as a competitor. Alongside Nathan Chen and Evan Lysacek, he is one of the American Olympic champions whose feats changed the course of the sport.
There was a quietness in Malinin’s manner as I heard the anthem reverberating through the Milan arena and watched the flag raise. He didn’t cry or yell. Almost introspective, he stood motionless. That quiet yet impactful moment appeared to convey more than any score or jump could.
