Alysa Liu stands as the beacon of hope for the U.S. in Olympic figure skating, but her journey is anything but conventional. What if the key to success isn’t just talent, but a mindset that defies pressure? As the 2026 Winter Olympics unfold in Milan, Liu’s story is one of resilience, emotion, and a unique approach to competition that’s turning heads.
The Athletic is providing live coverage of the Games (https://www.nytimes.com/athletic/live-blogs/winter-olympics-2026-milano-cortina-live-updates-day-12-schedule-events-scores-results/Wzsm0qPs1Jdh/), but it’s Liu’s personal narrative that’s capturing hearts. Her short program, set to Laufey’s ‘Promise,’ isn’t just a performance—it’s a deeply personal moment. The song, released in 2023 when Liu was already retired, now serves as a bridge to her siblings, who are witnessing her skate live for the first time. And this is the part most people miss: for Liu, emotion isn’t a weakness; it’s her superpower. It grounds her, reminding her of her purpose in moments where focus is everything.
During her routine, Liu couldn’t resist stealing glances at her family in the crowd—a split-second connection that fueled her performance. Her near-flawless execution earned her a season-best score of 76.59, placing her third, just 2.12 points behind Japan’s surprise leader, Ami Nakai. But here’s where it gets controversial: with the U.S. facing a 20-year Olympic medal drought in women’s figure skating, Liu is now the last hope. Is she the right skater for this pressure-cooker situation? Many would say no, but Liu’s unique mindset—one that rejects pressure altogether—might just be her greatest asset.
The U.S. entered the competition with three top-ranked contenders, yet Liu’s path to the podium is fraught with challenges. Amber Glenn, the highest-ranked American woman, faltered with an invalidated element, leaving her in 13th place. Isabeau Levito sits eighth, but both need near-perfect performances to medal. What if the key to success isn’t perfection, but perspective? Liu’s approach—skating for herself and her audience, not for medals—has set her apart, as noted by NBC broadcaster and 1998 gold medalist Tara Lipinski. ‘She skates in this bubble where she doesn’t feel the pressure, and that’s why she’s winning,’ Lipinski observed.
Liu’s journey is also marked by her brief retirement at 16 and her return on her own terms. She values moments, relationships, and happiness over medals—a philosophy that’s both refreshing and polarizing. Is this the future of sports, or a risky gamble? As she faces off against Japan’s powerhouse skaters, including Kaori Sakamoto and Mone Chiba, Liu remains focused on her story, not the scoreboard. ‘I don’t need a medal,’ she said. ‘I just need to be here and present.’
Her experience at the 2022 Beijing Olympics, overshadowed by the COVID-19 pandemic, gives her a unique perspective on what it means to compete in isolation. Now, with her family and friends in Milan, Liu feels a sense of fullness that was missing before. ‘They’re the only reason I’m here,’ she said. ‘I can’t do it without them.’
As Liu prepares for the free skate, the question lingers: Can her unconventional approach break the U.S. medal drought? What do you think—is Liu’s mindset the future of sports, or a risky strategy? Share your thoughts in the comments below, and let’s spark a conversation about what truly drives success in high-pressure situations.
