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The world needed the joy of these Games. So did the Olympic athletes and the fans who turned out in droves to support them.
International Olympic Committee President Kirsty Coventry speaks to the press at the 2026 Milan Cortina Winter Olympics in Milan, Italy, Feb. 20, 2026.Fabrizio Bensch/Reuters
| Milan
It was, arguably, the most difficult moment of these Olympics. Just hours before, a Ukrainian skeleton pilot had been dismissed from the 2026 Winter Olympics for his intention to wear a helmet honoring countrymen killed during Russia’s invasion.
Nobody at the International Olympic Committee wanted this outcome. IOC President Kirsty Coventry, herself a former athlete, was in tears after her meeting with Vladyslav Heraskevych.
But the IOC’s spokesperson, Mark Adams, said the organization, regrettably, had no choice.
“Our job is to bring all the different countries together, even if they are in conflict,” he said that morning. “It may not solve wars, it may not bring peace, but it sends a powerful message and brings people together. And it says, ‘This is how the world could be if we all respect the rules.’”
Whatever one thinks of how the IOC handled the Ukrainian case, the rest of the 2026 Milan Cortina Olympics could hardly have been a more powerful statement of that general sentiment.
This is how the world could be.
The world, increasingly caught in its dehumanizing cycles of political polarization and power, needed this. The Olympic athletes, robbed of human warmth and support by the pandemic in 2022, needed this. The human heart needed this.
Andrew Medichini/APFans of French athletes wait for the start of the men's 15-kilometer mass start biathlon race at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Anterselva, Italy, Feb. 20, 2026.
Every Olympics is an expression of joy unrivalled in the world of sport. But at least in the eight Olympic Games I have covered, it is hard to think of another where the depth of emotion and strength of fellowship has felt more genuinely moving.
Every two years, a seemingly fractured world asks: Can the Games help us heal? And every two years, the Games offer the same answer: Maybe we are not as fractured as we think. Here in Italy, that has come in floods as if directly in answer to the waiting world’s needs. So many athletes have left these Games changed.
Figure skater Ilia Malinin, already a thoughtful young man, grew in grace. Alpine skier Mikaela Shiffrin found glimpses of a peace as pure as her perfect turns down the mountain. Snowboarder Choi Ga-on summoned a strength she didn’t know she had.
As the Games draw to a close, they ask us to take this spirit forward. And in two years, they will be back to remind us again.
This spirit was written all over Li Yu-Hsiang’s face from the moment he stepped onto the ice for men’s figure skating. Figure skaters always smile, of course. It’s Chapter 1 in the unwritten rulebook of the sport, right next to “please wear something sparkly.” But this was not something for the judges, it was for the world, and there was no chance of keeping it in.
Yara Nardi/ReutersLi Yu-Hsiang of Taiwan relaxes on the ice after his performance during the men’s free skate at the Milano Ice Skating Arena, in Milan, Italy, 13, 2026.
With every passing element, completed elegantly, the smile grew, its intensity blazing brighter than the stage lights above. He finished, playfully lying on the ice in exhaustion and exultation. This was his moment. The crowd erupted.
He finished 23rd of 24 skaters that night.
And you realize: The Olympics are this same story on repeat. How can we possibly watch all 2,900 athletes – the countless Mr. Lis who will never be known outside their own country, and maybe not even there.
But they are known. The joy, the pride, the sense of accomplishment that is individual to each athlete. This is the flood that has lifted the world these past two weeks, the foundation for something purer than mere athletic achievement or national glory.
It was Tallulah Proulx, the pride of Iowa’s Sundown Mountain, who became the first woman to represent the Philippines at the Winter Olympics through her father’s side of the family. At the end of every run on the Olympia delle Tofane Alpine course, she was an explosion of kisses and waves and hearts and a radiant Olympic smile.
Abbie Parr/APTallulah Proulx and Francis Ceccarelli walk with the Philippines flag during the 2026 Winter Olympics opening ceremony in Livigno, Italy, Feb. 6, 2026.
Amid everything wonderful, there was scarcely even time to draw breath.
“It’s been such an incredible experience, first of all, being around inspiring athletes that I’ve been looking up to my whole life,” she said. “And then just the energy. Everyone’s so fun, so nice, and I love the culture surrounding the Games, you know? Everyone’s having a blast. I mean we’re in Cortina. Does it get more beautiful than this? And of course, I love skiing so much.”
Multiply Ms. Proulx by about 2,900, and you begin to get some sense of the 2026 Milan Cortina Games.
And it wasn’t all just those happy to be here with no real medal hopes. There was double-gold medalist Federica Brignone, the shining star of the Italian slopes. Bobsledder Elana Meyers Taylor, a woman who has defined poise and grace for five Olympics, finally won her first gold. Or so many American athletes, who when tempted by journalists to wade into politics, leaned on the Olympic ideals – and then went out and lived them.
Through it all, one word kept recurring: grateful. This is hardly a new word in Olympic circles. But it came with a particular intensity this time. The Olympics were an ambition, but also a refuge and a validation. Nice guys finish first, last, and everywhere in between. But here they are seen and celebrated.
Marco Trovati/APSweden's Cornelia Öhlund speeds down the course during the women's slalom race at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Cortina d'Ampezzo, Italy, Feb. 18, 2026.
And, it must be said, Ms. Proulx was on to something. A Winter Olympics in Cortina is something more than ordinary. My colleague Story Hinckley wrote a lovely article about the atmosphere in another Olympic town, Bormio. But in covering five Winter Olympics, I had never really felt the soul of the Games until I stepped into Cortina d’Ampezzo.
This is what the Games once were, an Alpine hamlet set amid the cathedral of the Dolomites, where the Games are not occasional interludes but an expression of the town’s identity. It was the first time in five Winter Olympics I can remember seeing snow fall in person. Lindsey Vonn said she just wanted to watch the sun rise over Cortina one more time, catching the craning towers of stone in their symphonies of brilliant golden light. No one who has seen it would question the sincerity of the desire.
Before the Games began, the opening ceremonies told us these Olympics would be about harmony. It’s hard to remember an Olympics in recent memory that delivered more on that promise.
For Ms. Proulx, that has felt a lot like making her own world bigger – and smaller. “I’ve had so many people on Instagram reach out and say, ‘I want to be you. I want to follow in your footsteps. You’re so inspiring, and thank you for showing the Philippines to the world.’”
There it is again: gratitude.
Now, at the end of two unforgettable weeks, it is perhaps our turn to say thank you.
Page created on 2/22/2026 3:29:23 PM
Last edited 2/22/2026 3:41:27 PM
