Milano Cortina Olympics: men's figure skating (10-02-2026)

 In the afternoon, I visit the Sweden Arena. It's not an exhibition, just a meeting point: there's a group of Swedes wearing the national hockey team jersey, but also a Canadian woman. I stop for a while to watch the women's luge, then head towards the Forum. When I get off the underground, I end up in the middle of a Coca-Cola group (recognisable because the guide has a bright sign) and, following them, I find myself in the queue for accredited visitors (who seem to be much more numerous here than on other occasions): I have to turn back.

From the brand new venue yesterday, I move to one I’ve been visiting for 36 years or so, and which brings back many memories of my youth. The first time I saw it, it gave me almost the same impression as Santa Giulia did yesterday; today, its age shows entirely (although here too there are escalators, which I hadn’t remembered). The refreshment points are old-fashioned, and the quality is definitely lower than yesterday: I’ll eat a calzone, horrible, and a focaccia, not bad.

For the first time in these Olympics, to reach my seat I need to go down rather than up: I hadn’t realised I was so close, even considering how much the ticket cost. I am definitely closer compared to the other two times I’ve watched figure skating: in Vancouver in 2010 and here again in 2018.

The audience is the most international I’ve ever seen: at the initial presentation, Asian flags stand out in particular: Japan (in the end, there will probably be more of them than Italians), China and South Korea, but also American and Ukrainian ones. Even a flag that cannot be brought into venues, that of the main country of “authorised neutral athletes”, will be seen on the cheeks of some spectators, a few rows in front of me. When their skaters take to the ice, you’ll also spot Mexicans, Canadians, Baltics  (next to me are first a couple of Estonians, then a group of Latvians), French peopleand especially Kazakhs. Among the countries of the top athletes, Georgia is the least represented, although a flag was seen in my block.

The first to take to the ice doesn’t impress me much, as I have no terms of comparison, but he’ll stay in the lead for a long time and finish 12th. The second seemed better to me, but he stays behind. Then there’s the Spaniard dressed as a Minion (at first, I thought as a plumber) who dances to Minions music and voices: very entertaining, but he makes many mistakes and stays behind, in the end he’ll be the first excluded from the final. The first group ends with the Mexican who seems to me in a different league compared to the previous ones, but he stays behind too: I hadn’t noticed a fall. He’ll make it to the final anyway. At first, I can’t find the “kiss & cry”, then from the cameras in front I understand it’s right in front of my section, so I can’t see it as it’s too far below my stand.

First break: I’m already hungry, so I decide to get something to eat. I spot a kiosk with no queue, but there’s a trick (which will deceive many): you have to pay somewhere else first, and there’s a queue there. I return anyway with a good margin before the event resumes. After the second group, I start to get up when I discover there’s no break: the warm-up for the third group begins immediately. In the third group, the Korean Cha impresses, taking the lead, to the excitement of his compatriots.

At the end of the third group, there is a break, and I take the opportunity to recharge my phone: there’s a station right in front of my block, where you can leave it, locking it with a code. Until now, I had always arrived at the limit of battery, also because power banks are not allowed. The fourth group starts with the Italian Rizzo, whom the announcer reminds us is from Sesto San Giovanni (where I am now): the excitement fades quickly because he falls at the first jump, but of course the crowd continues to support him and he finishes decently, ending up 16th. Third in the group is the other Italian, Grassl, whom the announcer reminds us achieved 7th place at the last Olympics, the best result by an Italian since 1952. Brilliant performance: I think he’ll be among the leaders, but not quite first—yet he is. Of course, all the best are still to come, but meanwhile, of the three remaining in the group, two make a mess (and one, the Japanese Miura, finishes truly distraught, seeming to be contemplating harakiri) and the third, the Frenchman Aymoz, puts in a good performance, but stays behind.

We reach the final group: I’m not sure whether to hope for a break or not, because on the one hand I’d like a pause, on the other I don’t want to finish so late. There’s no break, but I go out anyway: I find a toilet and kiosk without a queue and make it back in time as the first in the group, the Japanese Sato, is starting. He makes mistakes and finishes behind, while after him the Frenchman Siao Him Fa, with his nude look, delivers a great performance: I thought he’d take the lead, but not by so much—almost 9 points. Those in the final group seem to be superior, although they can always end up behind if they make mistakes: indeed, the Georgian Egadze makes quite a few mistakes and finishes 15th, while the Kazakh Shaidorov doesn’t make big errors, but stays behind Grassl. Then Malinin arrives, and he really is in a different league: he takes the lead by 5 points, I thought even more. The Japanese Kagiyama seems the only one on his level: he falls but manages to finish second. Grassl therefore fourth, beyond any expectation.

On the way out, there’s a bit of a crowd for the metro, but I catch the first one and it’s not even that packed. Tomorrow, an early start for Bormio: the Super G awaits me.

Milano Cortina Olympics: speed skating (08-02-2026)

 Clicca qui per la versione italiana

Compared to yesterday, there are more people. There are queues at both the first security check and the ticket check: nothing dramatic, we're talking about 5 minutes, but yesterday it was instantaneous. We enter: my block would be the second one after the entrance, but I have to detour to go to the toilet. I would also get something to drink, but there is too long a queue. 

I arrive at the stands with about ten minutes to spare and I still see plenty of empty seats, even in my row. People keep coming in, even after the event has started: by the third heat, it’s almost full. As expected (I’d seen it in Turin ), entering the arena feels like crossing a virtual border and stepping into Dutch territory: you see orange everywhere. When the announcer asks people to wave their flags, besides the Dutch and Italian ones, you’ll spot a few Norwegian, one American and one Japanese. Then, when it’s their athletes’ turn, the Czech, French and Canadian flags also appear. For a long time, I thought only the Dutch were in my row, but by the final heat I discovered there was also a Frenchman.

I’m at the start of the second bend: I can see the start clearly. Except for the initial acceleration, it looks as if they’re strolling, not making the slightest effort, but then you realise just how fast they’re going when you try to take a photo. On my side, there’s also the lane change and I wonder how they always remember which side to go to: in the gym, I always lose count of my sets! Of course, this applies both to the skater and to the coach assisting them, and I remember the mistake in the 10,000 metres in Turin.

The first heat is won easily by a German over a Dutchman, the second by a Dutchman, who takes the lead, over a Norwegian, who remains last: the majority of the crowd (I'm tempted tpo say “the home crowd”) begin to get excited. We get to the third heat, with the Italian Lorello, on paper the least favoured, against the Norwegian Kongshaug. The announcer highlights that Lorello is a home athlete, he lives in Rho. After two one-sided heats, this one is fought: neck and neck for the first two kilometres, in the middle section the Norwegian gains a small advantage, but then the Italian catches up and in the last three laps breaks away and wins by 1.72 seconds, applauded not only by the Italians, but also by the Dutch. They’re in the top two spots, but it’s only the third heat, so I don’t think they’ll stay there for long, even though the announcer reminds us Lorello’s time is close to the Olympic record. Meanwhile, the skaters in the fourth and fifth heats are well behind, and in fact, they’ll all finish in the last six places.

We get to the halfway break: I’d like to get a drink, but the queues everywhere are so long that I wouldn’t make it back in time for the restart. I give it a go, but after a while I realise I’m cutting it too fine, and in fact, I come back just as the sixth heat hits the 600-metre mark. There’s a Dutchman and an Austrian competing: both remain behind Lorello, then the Dutchman pulls away and with 3–4 laps to go seems to be catching up with the Italian, but then drops back again and stays third. Then it’s the other Italian, Malfatti, who wins his heat, but stays well behind the leaders.

It’s time for Ghiotto’s heat, but I risk missing the start because of an argument about seats, with my former neighbour calling me as a witness. For once, I wasn’t in the wrong seat (the argument wasn’t about mine, but if my ex-neighbour had been right, it would have meant I was in the wrong too): the issue was that the rows, for some reason, started at number 2, so he thought it was row 3 because it was physically the third, but the steps were marked as row 4. In any case, they start, with Ghiotto ahead of Lorello for a while, but during the time he wasn’t leading, then with two laps to go he’s in front, with one lap to go he’s close and likewise at the finish: he’s second by 0.35 seconds, his opponent, an American, finishes two seconds back and is fifth. There are still four left to go, but at the moment it’s a one-two for Italy.

Ninth heat between the Norwegian Eitrem and the Czech Jilek. After just a kilometre, the former is well ahead of both his opponent and Lorello. After a while, it’s clear both will finish ahead of the Italian: Eitrem by more than five seconds, Jilek by nearly three. Huge enthusiasm from the Norwegians, especially one dressed in a collage of flags, but the Czechs make themselves heard too. The Italian is third, and at this point I fear the medal has slipped away, but it seems unlikely that both in the last heat will stay behind. Yet, as the laps go by, both the Frenchman Lobineaud and the Canadian Bloemen stay behind: with 3–4 laps to go, the Canadian is out of contention, the Frenchman could still catch up if he keeps up with Lorello’s times. With two laps to go, I reckon he could still catch up with an exceptional time, but by the last lap I realise it’s impossible, and at the end of the final bend, I know it’s done.

Lorello gets a medal: I’ve just witnessed the first of the five Italian medals I might hope to see, even if not with the athlete I expected. Only the fact that no one’s leaving reminds me there’s a medal ceremony: after the era of the medal plaza, I’m not used to it anymore. In reality, not everyone waits for it, especially among the Dutch. When it starts, it takes me a while to realise that the podium is not near the flags, for once physical ones.

We leave by a different door than we entered and for a while stay on the lower floor compared to the walkway at the entrance: you see some historic photos of the Milan Fair. You also start to see the Finns heading to the women’s ice hockey match that evening (against the Czech Republic). Tomorrow, more hockey, but this time in Santa Giulia.

Figure Skating World Championships in Milan (21-03-2018)

Clicca qui per la versione italiana

Rome-Milan and back in one day to see Kostner once, before she retires. Departure from Termini at 7.10, arrival at Central  Station at 10.15, around 11.20 I am at the Forum. At least inside, the Forum has not changed much since I was there for the first time in 1990, unlike San Siro, where  not much is left of what I saw the first time.

I discover I have missed only 3 skaters, I thought more. My side is almost full, the others are not even half filled, even if not many tickets were left. A British enters the track: once her race is over, the recovery team gets into the field, even if nobody throws anything. The racers who will remain empty-handed will not be many. The recovery staff are usually made of 4, but will be doubled for the most important skaters and tripled for Kostner. Inside the building they also sell objects to throw, from roses to soft toys. Some get close to the ice to throw them, others do from their places, even far away. I would be very afraid of missing the ice, and actually there are some who miss it: in these cases, the track-side stewards remediate.

Italian Leccardi's turn comes, and I realize I have forgotten my flag. The performance seems good, but she is 3rd out of 5: to qualify for the long program she must leave 13 behind, so, since the level should be increasing, she does not seem to have many chancess. As the performances go on, I realize I'm not able to recognize the results: a Finn takes the lead, with 9 points over the Italian, but I had not noticed all this difference. I also notice that the figures, especially the spins, have a very different effect depending on the physique of the skater (tall or short, robust or slender). Physiques are very different, more than in other "artistic" sports such as gymnastics or diving.

After two blocks of 5 skaters, at the first ice makeover, I try to take something to eat, but the queue is too long. I pospone it to the break after the third block, shorter, missing the first skater of the fourth one. After three blocks, Leccardi is still 4th: she must leave behind two more to qualify, but the level goes up. In the fourth block with an American, which makes 68 points against the 60 of the previous leader, we see that they begin to get serious. Before the last skater of the fifth block, Leccardi still has to pass one to qualify. Toth of Hungary makes a very uncertain performance and remains behind the Italian by half a point. The attendance protests (clearly the non-Italian one), for the only time in the day: for the rest it has always applauded everyone. The Hungarian will also be saved, thanks to a Slovak who falls down twice.

We arrive at the last block, with a Canadian leading (she, after Kostner, will remain the one I liked most). The stands have been filled, even if not entirely, especially of Japanese: the first rows are full of rising sun flags. Kostner arrives: perfect race, from jumps to spins, 80 points, a great emotion. Then it is Zagitova's turn, who gives far fewer emotions: one asks "is that all?", But it is only one point from Kostner. The others remain behind.

It ends around 16.45. We get out quite quickly: I get on the first underground and arrive at Central Stationwith a good margin, I could have taken the train before.