It’s winter, and as usual we were planning to stay home as much as possible. But not this year… And honestly, we’re not complaining. At the beginning of February, we headed to the Olympic Games, arriving before the opening ceremony. As you’ve probably heard or seen, the 2026 Milan–Cortina Games are the most geographically spread out in Olympic history. For reference, traveling between Milan and Cortina takes at least three hours — and that’s if you’re lucky.
This detail mattered to us because it helped us choose our events. Among them, we picked curling — that sport we’ve all watched more than once on Eurosport, with athletes furiously sweeping the ice. Luckily for us, the curling competition was held in Cortina, meaning we were in one of the two main host cities. The magic of the Games meant running into plenty of athletes in the streets of the (rather luxurious) resort, along with officials and a strong police presence. One day before the ceremony, the city still felt like a construction site in preparation for the Games.
Once inside the curling arena, built next to the bobsleigh track, the crowd was already there — and it was impossible to find our seats. The officials invited us to sit wherever we could find space. No big deal, especially considering that back in 2024 we had accidentally taken the wrong seats at a water polo match. The Czech Republic faced Sweden on the ice, and as fate would have it, we ended up sitting next to Swedish fans.
It was a great match overall, and the setup allowed us to watch all the morning games simultaneously — no downtime with that layout. It’s starting to become a habit: the team we support ends up losing…
As mentioned earlier, these Games are spread across northern Italy, and our second event was one hour away in the Trentino region. We hit the road on the day of the opening ceremony — which turned out to be the worst possible decision, since ceremonies were being held in each host city, and in Cortina, given the layout, the event even seemed free to attend.
No matter — our focus was on the women’s skiathlon: 10 km classic plus 10 km freestyle. Yes, when we say it like that, it probably doesn’t make much sense to you either. The skiathlon is an endurance cross-country skiing event divided into two parts. First comes the classic portion — similar to biathlon skiing technique — where athletes move forward with parallel skis, often within predefined tracks. The second half is freestyle, where skiers can move as they wish. The course includes climbs, tight turns, straight sections, and descents.
Since last year, we’ve learned how to be spectators of endurance sports — and how can we put this? It was the best sporting event experience we’ve ever had. Here’s why: the course is designed so that crucial moments are visible to the public from different vantage points — the toughest climbs, the sharpest turns, the fastest downhill stretches — everything can be seen depending on where you choose to stand. The crowd moves along the course following the athletes’ positions, which adds an incredible sense of dynamism to the race.
Of course, we were following the Czech and French skiers, but the crowd favorite during the introductions was Frida Karlsson. And what a performance. As if to build suspense, she stayed with the leading pack during the first 10 km (classic). Then, right at the start of the freestyle section, she broke away, followed by her compatriot Ebba Andersson and Norway’s Heidi Weng. That’s when she shifted gears — accelerating and continuing to increase her pace throughout the 10 km freestyle segment. Even though we all knew she would win before the final 5 kilometers, the crowd kept holding its breath until the last 50 meters. She grabbed the Swedish flag, crossed the finish line, and waited for her teammate, who arrived 50 seconds later (which is HUGE). The moment was simply magical.
No Olympic record was set — in this discipline, which includes freestyle and ever-changing courses, times are not recorded in the official record books. But believe us, it was worthy of Kenenisa Bekele or even Usain Bolt.
As a small anecdote, on the Eurosport and HBO broadcasts, you can spot one member of SBNN — we’ll let you find them; it’s just before the medal ceremony. On the men’s side, France claimed the bronze medal in a frenetic race decided in the final kilometer. An incredible adventure that allowed us to appreciate a sport that doesn’t always get much coverage.
You probably saw one powerful moment from this race: the Haitian representative crossing the finish line at these Winter Games, which this year welcomed many nations we’re not used to seeing. Many athletes from Europe or North America choose the nationality of their parents. They make history as the first to compete for their countries, but beyond that, they help create federations, jobs, and above all, dreams. They expand the realm of possibility for the next generation. Just like Eddie the Eagle or the Jamaican team in Calgary once did, they inspire and lay the foundations for a sporting culture.
Indeed, sporting culture is what makes participation meaningful and results even more beautiful. During our short stay in the Italian mountains, we saw more than twenty football stadiums — but only one cross-country ski track. How is that possible? Why don’t national authorities promote certain sports by organizing training camps or even mandatory winter sports programs?
Some will say it’s about cost — as if building football stands or stadiums with more seats than residents in a town were free. Jamaica has missed only two Winter Olympics in bobsleigh since 1988, and yet, you can be sure they still don’t have mountains. Media coverage of these sports is relatively limited, and yet their sponsors often come from high-end or luxury brands. A paradox. How can sports that are so under-promoted and often very expensive manage to secure partnerships with prestigious brands and host events in costly resorts?
It’s hard for us to unravel the economics of winter sports — but even harder to understand the lack of involvement from sports authorities and governments. Nowadays, only a handful of names — often those who have already won more than two Olympic medals — are widely recognized. Apart from the Nordic countries, which have a deeply rooted culture in these disciplines, winter sports are rarely highlighted, even in Alpine nations that, despite having more than adequate facilities, often lag behind in many events.