Mikhail Shaidorov Breaks Silence on Ilia Malinin’s Olympic Heartbreak: “People See Rivals… But I See The Guy Who Trains Until He Can’t Stand”

Milano Cortina, February 2026 – When Mikhail Shaidorov stepped onto the top podium spot at the 2026 Winter Olympics men’s singles figure skating event, the world celebrated a new champion. The 22-year-old from Kazakhstan had delivered two nearly flawless programs, landing six clean quads in the free skate and finishing with a total score of 298.45 – enough to edge out Japan’s Yuma Kagiyama (silver) and Shun Sato (bronze). But the moment the medal was placed around his neck, the conversation immediately shifted to the skater who finished eighth: Ilia Malinin.

Malinin, the American prodigy who had entered the Games as the overwhelming favorite, suffered a shocking collapse in the free skate. After leading following the short program, he fell twice, popped several planned quads, and missed his signature quad axel, finishing 15th in the long program and dropping to eighth overall. The result stunned fans, analysts, and the entire skating community. What followed was an online firestorm: some mocked his falls, others questioned his mental toughness, and a small but vicious minority went further, ridiculing his tears in post-competition interviews.

Malinin’s mother, Tatiana Malininina, had already given an emotional interview on NBC, speaking of the childhood her son sacrificed, the nights he came home crying from pressure, and the fear he carried of letting America down. Her words began to shift public sentiment toward empathy, but the criticism continued.

Then Mikhail Shaidorov spoke.

In a quiet, exclusive interview with Eurosport conducted just two days after the medal ceremony, the new Olympic champion finally addressed the elephant in the room. Sitting in a small room at the Olympic Village, wearing the same hoodie he trained in every day, Shaidorov looked directly into the camera and said something no one expected:

“People see rivals… but I see the guy who trains until he can’t stand.”

The sentence hung in the air for several seconds. The interviewer paused, visibly surprised. Shaidorov continued, voice calm but firm:

“I trained with Ilia for years at the same facility in Colorado Springs. We shared ice time, coaches, even the same physio. I saw him come in at 4:30 a.m. every single day. I saw him stay until the Zamboni guy had to kick him off the ice at 11 p.m. I saw him fall on the same jump 200 times in one session and get up every time.

I saw him cry in the locker room after a bad practice – not because he lost, but because he thought he wasn’t good enough for the people who believed in him.”

He paused again, eyes steady.

“He never complained. He never made excuses. He never blamed the ice, the judges, the coaches, or anyone else. He just kept going. That’s not a rival. That’s a brother in this sport. And when he fell in the free skate… I didn’t feel relief. I felt pain. Because I know how much he gave. I know how much he still has left to give. The rankings don’t show that. The medals don’t show that. But I saw it every day for years.”

Then came the single sentence that left the room in shock – and changed how many critics viewed the American star:

“Ilia deserved far more on skating’s biggest night than the final rankings ever showed.”

The line was simple. Honest. Devastating in its quiet truth.

The interviewer sat back. The crew exchanged glances. Shaidorov didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Those 12 words said everything: the sport’s newest champion believed the eighth-place finisher had been robbed—not by judges, not by falls, but by a narrative that reduced his entire journey to one bad night.

The interview aired that evening. Within minutes, the clip of Shaidorov’s confession went viral. #ShaidorovTruth and #IliaDeservedMore trended worldwide. Fans reposted the segment relentlessly. Former skaters, coaches, and athletes weighed in:

– Nathan Chen (2022 Olympic champion): “Mikhail just spoke for all of us who know what Ilia has sacrificed. Respect.”- Yuma Kagiyama (silver medalist): “I felt the same. Ilia is one of the greatest talents I’ve ever competed against. This doesn’t change that.”- Simone Biles: “This is what sport should be. Lifting each other up even when you win.”- Scott Hamilton (1984 Olympic champion): “Mikhail reminded us tonight what real sportsmanship looks like.”

Even critics who had mocked Malinin’s performance began to backtrack. Some issued apologies. Others quietly deleted their harsher posts. The narrative shifted overnight: what had been a story of “choking” became a story of sacrifice, resilience, and mutual respect between two young men who had pushed each other to greatness.

Malinin responded the next day on Instagram with a simple black-and-white photo of himself and Shaidorov training together years earlier, captioned:

“Thank you, Mikhail. Your words mean more than any medal ever could. You’re right – we’re not rivals. We’re brothers in this. I’ll be back. Stronger. For all of us.”

He announced an indefinite break from competition to focus on mental health, family, and rediscovering joy in skating. “I want to come back because I love it again,” he wrote, “not because I have to prove something to anyone.”

Shaidorov’s confession also sparked broader conversations about judging transparency, mental health in elite sports, and the unrealistic expectations placed on young athletes. Analysts revisited the free skate protocols, noting that Malinin’s falls were heavily penalized while other skaters received leniency on similar errors. Some called for independent reviews; others demanded more mental health support for competitors.

But the real legacy of Shaidorov’s words may be simpler: in a sport often criticized for its subjectivity and drama, one champion chose honesty over ego, respect over rivalry, and humanity over celebration.

Ilia Malinin didn’t win gold in Milano Cortina.

But in the quiet aftermath of one of the most heartbreaking nights of his career, he gained something far more enduring: a fellow champion who saw him not as a failure, but as a fighter who had given everything.

And when Mikhail Shaidorov said, “People see rivals… but I see the guy who trains until he can’t stand,” he didn’t just defend Ilia Malinin.

He reminded the entire figure skating world what sport is supposed to be.