These athletes are the saving grace of the Winter Olympics

The huge, plastic letters sat next to the base of the chairlift like the Hollywood Sign’s more patriotic sister. They spelled out TEAM USA, their slightly crooked, white boldface type popping against the brown landscape of a ski resort in the fall.

America was everywhere at the Team USA Media Summit in Park City last September. For three days, athletes rotated through room after room filled with reporters like me who were there to ask them about their Olympic dreams. The lodge where we were stationed looked like the Google image results after you search “apres ski:” a jumble of exposed wooden beams, huge, stone fireplaces, and bearskin rugs that may or may not have once been alive. The place was coated with a layer of jingoism. Every banner was red, white, or blue. There were more American flags than a fourth of July parade.

It was a strange time to be surrounded by so much nationalism. President Donald Trump had spent the weekend denouncing NFL players who knelt during the national anthem to protest social injustice, and doubled down on his attacks of Colin Kaepernick. He’d also ratcheted up his hard-charging rhetoric against North Korea, which sits on the peninsula where these athletes were hoping to be in a few months.

The Olympics are ... complicated. You could argue the world would be better off without them and you wouldn’t be wrong. They’re riddled with corruption, cost host countries billions upon billions of dollars, displace poor people to make room for things like ice luges — I could go on. They are not a way toward world peace, and they don’t create unity.

But the thing about the Olympics is that they are happening, and there are people at the center of them who are worth caring about and cheering for. I want to introduce you to a few of the athletes who came through our interview set, which our video production team built in a carpeted conference room in the basement of the lodge.

I’m not sure I’ve met a more charismatic human than figure skater Adam Rippon. The room felt a bit warmer when he walked in and started sharing friendly gossip about other Olympians. He was followed by his teammate Nathan Chen, the 18-year-old phenom whose face has recently been plastered across the internet in advance of the winter games. It wasn’t at the time, though, and he was somewhat shy. He repeated each question before giving his answer, following the rules of the media training that all athletes are put through before facing monsters like us. He didn’t stray from his script. He works hard, he’s excited. It was endearing; his earnestness was a sharp departure from the professional athletes who peddle their own narratives every day on the national stage.

That earnestness popped up again and again over the three days we were there: Jessie Diggins, a cross-country skier, was surprised when I told her that one of my friends from college was a huge fan of hers. Matt Hamilton, a curler rocking a huge mustache (that he was very proud of), declared immediately that he was a “huge ham.” His laugh filled up our set as he told us about drinking beers back home in Wisconsin at his rec league curling club. If he weren’t pushing rocks around at the Olympic level, he’d still be doing so in Madison just for fun.

Athletes competing in sports most Americans aren’t intimately familiar with explained the incredible amount of strength their jobs require. Lowell Bailey and Susan Dunklee, who compete in biathalon, talked about the immense mental and physical stamina it takes to ski as hard as you can and then hold a gun steady. Bobsledders Steve Cunningham and Nick Langton — both huge dudes who could easily pass for NFL players — explained that the sheer force of going down the track puts you through five times the force of gravity. It can be so strong that sometimes it snaps your neck back and keeps it there (“You should try it!”).

Hockey players Hilary Knight, Amanda Kessel, Alex Rigsby, Brianna Decker, Meghan Duggan, and Monique Lamoureux-Morando all talked about how it was the 1998 Olympics, when the American women’s team won it all, that made them fall in love with the sport. They’re determined to bring home a gold on the 20th anniversary of the moment that inspired them as children. Kessel said she was bummed that the NHL is barring players from competing, because she wished she could experience the games with her brother Phil, who plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins. But she hopes this just means the spotlight shines on the women even brighter.

Many of the big names from past Olympics were at the event: Skier Ted Ligety said he can’t wait to get his young son on the slopes when the little guy turns 2. Snowboarder Kelly Clark — who’s won a bajillion medals and awards — was mostly interested in telling us about her dog. Speaking of dogs, Gus Kenworthy talked about how his profile blew up after the Sochi Olympics after he rescued strays in Russia. He said it was actually his boyfriend at the time, Robin Macdonald, who stayed behind for a month to be sure the animals were safe and vaccinated. Kenworthy didn’t go public with the full story about the dogs when it happened because he wasn’t ready to come out. He since has, and says he’s embraced the role of “the gay skier.”

I also want you to meet a few of the young guns headed to Korea: Chloe Kim qualified for Sochi at only 13 years old, but couldn’t compete because of the age limit (you have to be 15). She’s ready now, and told me, laughing, that she spends most of the season with BandAids on her face from crashing. Then there’s Julia Marino, a very chill 20-year-old, first-time Olympian who made waves in the snowboarding world when she earned a gold medal at the 2017 X Games, and climbed to No. 2 in the 2016/17 World Snowboard Tour slopestyle standings. She’s only been snowboarding full-time for three years. At 17, she was still playing on her high school soccer team.

Kim and Marino’s teammate, Nate Holland, told us some stories about pranking his teammates that I can’t print here, and Hailey Langland told us the name of some tricks that I also can’t repeat. One trick name that I can print here is the K-Fed, after Britney Spear’s ex-husband. The rule in the snowboarding world is that if you land a trick, you get to name it (you can see where this could get out of hand).

The skiers and snowboarders all said typical snowboard things, like “send it” and “steezy.” Holland said that one of the misconceptions about the sport is that they’re all potheads, before he cracked up and said that 95 percent of snowboarders are potheads. We met Hagen Kearney, a long-haired motorcycle enthusiast who plays in a metal band when he isn’t strapping a board to his feet and competing internationally. Check out his Instagram if you want to meet a true American hero.

I didn’t expect to spend three days straight in a beige, windowless room and leave feeling refreshed, but I did. Most of these athletes don’t make much money outside of their Olympic window, especially in sports like cross-country skiing, curling, speedskating, luge, skeleton, etc. I don’t want to say there’s a purity here, but there is passion and sheer determination. Both are inspiring to be around.

Two things can be true at once: You can understand the inherent problems with the Olympic games, and you can still be invested in the hopes and dreams of the athletes competing in them.

Names most of the world doesn’t yet know are about to be plastered on headlines and shared on social media and become loved and hated. There will be scandals. Bodies and storylines will fall apart. And at the end of three weeks, all of these names will leave South Korea and fade from the news cycle. When the spring comes, the snow will thaw. It will leave the massive Olympic infrastructure standing against a muddy backdrop.