Ilia Malinin’s overconfidence on the ice

There’s a particular kind of satisfaction I get from watching people who are far too self-absorbed collapse like a house of cards, and that’s exactly what happened to Ilia Malinin during the 2026 Milano Cortina Winter Olympics. I’m really not a fan of this guy’s attitude, and that’s what I’m here to vent about today.

To start, I will state my issues with the first thing I think Ilia wants to be associated with: his nickname. For years at this point, the figure skating world has been held hostage by this “Quad God” narrative, and it’s grown to a much larger scale thanks to the most recent biennial Winter Olympic games. It’s not like he was given the name by the media because of his talent or whatever: it’s something that his arrogant self and his bootlicking team came up with. It’s repeated in every article, interview and sports broadcast that mentions his name, and it’s clearly so important to him that it’s the first thing he deemed necessary to put his Instagram bio (check for yourself at your own risk; if you couldn’t guess already, his username is “ilia_quadg0d_malinin”). Like, okay dude.

To me, it’s just incredibly embarrassing. It kind of reminds me of the “Nine” alter ego that J.J. McCarthy came up with, aka the flop of a quarterback that the Vikings are stuck with. Sigh. But that’s another article for another day.

Anyway, something else that motivated me to write this article was his attitude. In the aftermath of his eighth-place disaster (manifestation works, folks), a performance in which he had the hubris to skate to the sound of his own voice, Malinin angrily stated, “I told them [U.S. Figure Skating, the national governing body who decides which figure skaters go to the Olympics] they should’ve sent me to Beijing. Then I wouldn’t have skated like that.”

For context, he, 17 years old at the time, was denied a spot on the United States figure skating team for the last Winter Olympics because the team prioritized more experienced skaters. Duh, if I were one of the people who are in charge of deciding that, I would do the same thing. Blaming your failure on the fact that you didn’t get to go to the Olympics four years ago is insane.

Some other things that helped push me to write this article were the responses I kept seeing online about Ilia Malinin. Some people keep regarding him as just being a regular Joe Schmoe from some small town in Virginia and, to be honest, it’s pathetic that that’s really the only thing about this guy that they can come up with without having to portray him as what he really is: a guy who had privilege from the start (his parents were similarly talented figure skaters themselves), who has already won a bazillion medals (one of which was a gold medal he got at this Olympics for the team event), who’s never even suffered from any kind of sympathy-worthy injury. He’s no inspiration story and I’m tired of him being framed like he is one.

Additionally, his fans coddle him like he’s a toddler. I keep seeing these incredibly difficult-to-watch edits of him at the Olympics, and the comments are just ridiculous. To directly quote a few comments from a singular post—a video of alternating clips from Malinin’s first versus last 2026 Olympic performances

(pinned video on the TikTok account @catherine_bc.24): “It’s not even his fault, the ice was to [sic] soft. I feel so bad for Ilia dude [sad face emoji]”

“This is lowkey dehumanizing.”

“the difference.. they failed him. … we deserve a redo.”

First of all, there was nothing wrong with the ice. The three men who actually made it onto the podium even said so later on in a press conference, and I guarantee that there would be some kind of professional complaint against the IOC by now if the ice really was somehow screwing with the skaters’ performances.

Second of all, “dehumanizing” is a very strong word to use to refer to a few clips edited together of this guy being sad. Like, it’s not that deep.

Third of all, who is “they” and what do “they” have to do with Malinin’s performance? And who is “we”? “We” already had to watch him perform four times. He can “redo” his performance in the next Winter Olympics.

News flash: there will always be another figure skating competition that he can get medals in. It’s not the end of the world.

Now, I do understand that Malinin is under a bunch of pressure, which is kind of what my coworkers in the Op-Ed department touched on in last week’s Our View. The press has not been helpful at all in calming his nerves or making him feel confident with his programs. He was spoken about for the entirety of the nearly week-long tenure of the men’s figure skating segment of these Olympic games (I even caught his name during a women’s hockey game, and that lowkey ticked me off, but whatever), which would obviously leave somebody stressed out. The unfortunate issues that athletes often have with their mental and physical health are common occurrences during these games—think of the pressure fellow figure skater Nathan Chen felt during his debut in the 2018 PyeongChang Winter Olympics, and what led gymnast Simone Biles to back out of the 2021 Tokyo Summer Olympics.

But the difference between Chen and Biles compared to Malinin is that the latter set his whole persona up. Again, it wasn’t hailed upon him: he came up with his little “Quad God” schtick himself. He prances around talking about how good he is, and the press just goes along with it. Has it been exemplified to a completely inappropriate level? Obviously. But when he—on his own accord—set the bar so high, he (and his fans) shouldn’t be so shocked that the media is choosing to capitalize off of it. He even had an entire media day planned out that he later “postponed” after his loss, which, if he would’ve actually gotten onto the podium, would’ve directly fed them content to write more articles talking about how “inspiring” he is.

At the end of the day, I don’t think you should be branding yourself as some kind of flawless jumping machine and then start asking for empathy if your gears fail. Like, that’s on you, girl.

Ultimately, Ilia Malinin is an incredible performer and I really do enjoy watching him skate (on mute—that way I don’t need to hear the announcers worshipping him). I’m glad he’s pointed out his overconfidence in some of his post-skate interviews, but let this be a lesson for him not to get too cocky in the future. In a sport where precision and composure mean everything, a little humility can go a long way.