facebook-pixel

Nathan Chen didn’t live up to the hype at the Olympics. Or did he?

(Chris Detrick | The Salt Lake Tribune) Salt Lake City's Nathan Chen competes in the Men Single Skating Free Skating at Gangneung Ice Arena during the Pyeongchang 2018 Winter Olympics Saturday, Feb. 17, 2018. Chen landed a record six quadruple jumps, scoring 215.08.

Gangneung, South Korea • A few hours after Nathan Chen again rearranged the history of his sport, he was known as “that American kid” to diners at a table inside a restaurant a block away from the Olympic athlete village in Gangneung.

A group of New Zealand Olympic staffers were enjoying a meal, sheltered inside from the bitter cold, when one asked his friends if they’d heard what transpired.

“That American kid,” he exclaimed. “He landed six quads. Six! First time ever.”

Salt Lake City’s figure skating star was the hot topic at these 2018 Olympic Winter Games, even during late-afternoon lunches. Chen arrived accompanied by a tsunami of hype. He had a minute long commercial on Super Bowl Sunday dedicated to him — the peak of prime time during prime time’s most-watched day.

Failure came in prime time as well. Chen’s stunning series of stumbles and falls in Friday’s short program left him a busted-flat 17th, and as one social media wag noted, “broke Twitter’s heart.”

Then came Saturday, when Chen rallied magnificently with a record-breaking free skate that pulled him up to fifth and tantalizingly close to the podium in his 2018 Olympics finale.

Giving him a boost beforehand: encouraging words from his favorite player on his favorite team.

Before Jazz rookie guard Donovan Mitchell participated in this weekend’s NBA All-Star Game festivities, he took time to tweet Chen, thanking him for representing Team USA and Salt Lake City. “Stay positive,” Mitchell wrote.

From one high flyer to another, Chen responded with a personal-best skate of 215.08, a routine that featured six quad attempts, something never before attempted in international competition.

Still, these Olympics were a reality check for Chen, dropping him lower than ever before, forcing him to swim against a fierce riptide when nothing was working.

Mitchell was far from the only one lending support. It came from all quarters. Dick Button, the 88-year-old two-time Olympic gold medalist, who has been outspoken and critical of the growing dominance of quad jumps in skating, sent Chen a message before he smoked his routine.

“Beyonce fell off the stage at a concert and got right back up,” Button tweeted, “so can you.”

Afterward, Button kept his live-tweeting summary.

“This is who we waited for,” he wrote. “Like Beyonce you’re back on the stage.”

This was a rite of passage for Chen. It proved that nobody, no matter their athletic prowess or groundbreaking ability, can shake free from Winter Games intimidation. The aura of Olympic ice cannot be replicated. Neither can those combined nine minutes where four years of work can blow up in an instant.

“I tried to think of it just as any other competition,” Chen said after fifth place was assured, “but as much as I tried and tell myself and tried and tell you guys that, that’s not really the truth. It’s so much bigger than that.”

Figure skating’s tested veteran core pulled through. Japan’s Yuzuru Hanyu repeated his gold medal from Sochi, asserting himself in the sport’s lore. His countryman Shoma Uno, 20, won silver, while former world champion Javier Fernandez of Spain won bronze. Hanyu was clinical, a pinnacle-blend of what defines today’s figure skater: grace, artistry and, when needs be, the ability to throw down a quad or two.

Will Chen be able to close the gap in the cycle ahead? Four years, he noted himself, is a long time. And truthfully, there will be no greater test until Beijing 2022 when he finds himself back skating on the rings below the ice.

Inside the press tent outside the Gangneung Ice Arena, Chen’s marvelous Saturday effort led reporters from around the globe to wonder aloud if it was good enough to, potentially, win bronze, which would have been a truly stunning development. Chen himself even wondered.

“But as soon as these guys [the last three] skated I said, ‘There’s no way,’” he said, but hastening to add, “This was a great experience overall and I am happy with everything.”

The outcome was not the one cooked up in those NBC storyboard meetings or through endless profiles of America’s skating wonder. Chen was thumped by the Olympics, but got back on his feet and made history less than 24 hours later.

He still relished the experience. He enjoyed the Olympic athlete village, where during some meals, he was peppered with questions by members of the U.S. women’s hockey team, who all voiced their fandom for the skater. Chen enjoyed watching the mix of cultures and countries mesh at the lunch tables, and when he managed to find time off the ice, he spent time with his family or played his guitar in his room to relax.

What happens next? The beginning of the next march toward the Olympics, of course. He says he will compete at this year’s world championships in Milan, Italy, in March. His skating calendar, it appears, will stay full.

You may not hear Chen’s name as much or see as many social media posts or news stories about his jaw-dropping ability as in the past few months, but he’ll be out there, working to get back to the very place he is saying goodbye to this weekend. As he said, four years is a long time.

“I still haven’t been able to stitch up the dream that I have had,” he said. “Although I am here, I want to be on the top of the podium someday.”