In a sport where technical brilliance can seem almost inhuman, Ilia Malinin had come to embody the impossible. The prodigy known as the “Quad God”—the first skater to land a quadruple Axel in competition—arrived at the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics as the unquestioned favorite for men’s singles gold.
At just 21 years old, Malinin had redefined the limits of his sport. He hadn’t lost a major competition in more than two years. He led after the short program with a commanding 108.16. All that stood between him and Olympic glory was a clean—or even merely solid—free skate.
Then came February 13, 2026.
Under the blinding lights of the Milano Ice Skating Arena, the myth cracked.
Skating to his free program “A Voice,” a deeply personal piece reflecting his 14-year journey in the sport, Malinin opened confidently with a clean quad flip. But almost immediately, the performance began to unravel. His signature quad Axel was popped into a single. Planned quad combinations dissolved. He fell twice, including on a quad lutz. Other jumps were downgraded—what should have been a quad loop became a double. The precision and swagger that had defined his reign were gone, replaced by visible tension and disbelief.
When the scores came in, the shock was complete. Malinin’s free skate earned just 156.33 points—stunningly low by his standards—for a total of 264.49. The once-dominant favorite finished eighth overall.
“I blew it,” Malinin admitted afterward in an NBC interview, his voice flat with disappointment. “That was the first thing that came to my mind. I have no words.”
The podium told a story few had predicted. Kazakhstan’s Mikhail Shaidorov captured a historic gold with 291.58. Japan’s Yuma Kagiyama claimed silver (280.06), while Shun Sato earned bronze (274.90). Malinin, who had planned seven quadruple jumps and pushed the sport’s technical ceiling into uncharted territory, landed only a fraction of what he intended.
For fans and analysts alike, the moment felt surreal. This wasn’t just an upset—it was a reminder of how unforgiving the Olympic stage can be. The pressure, the expectations, the weight of inevitability all seemed to converge at once. The skater who had made quads look routine suddenly looked human.
And maybe that’s the lasting image of the night.
As Malinin left the ice, fighting back tears, the “Quad God” label felt less like a crown and more like a burden. Yet in that vulnerability was something quietly powerful. This was his first loss since 2023, and it came on the biggest stage imaginable. But it doesn’t erase what he’s done—or what he’s capable of doing next.
The Olympics have a way of stripping athletes down to their core. On this night, Ilia Malinin lost his aura of invincibility—but gained something else: perspective. He is still the skater who changed what men’s figure skating can be. He just learned, painfully, that even revolutionaries can falter when the spotlight burns brightest.
Redemption stories write themselves in sports, and fans are already imagining what Malinin’s might look like. One thing is certain: this was not the end of his story—just the chapter where the legend learned he was human.
What did you think of this stunning Olympic upset?