Feature: A new summit for China's Su Yiming

by sportswriters Xiao Yazhuo, Lu Xingji, Liu Yang

LIVIGNO, Italy, Feb. 18 (Xinhua) -- When Su Yiming stood atop the Olympic podium again, the moment felt both familiar and entirely new.

Four years ago in Beijing, he was the fearless teenager who seized gold in big air and silver in slopestyle, becoming an overnight icon of Chinese snowboarding. In Milan-Cortina, on his 22nd birthday, he claimed slopestyle gold, days after earning bronze in big air.

At his second Olympic Games, the medal count is different, and so is the man who earned it.

AN UNEXPECTED ASCENT IN BEIJING

In the 2021-2022 season, Su was still chasing Olympic qualification.

He earned his place the hard way -- competing event by event, accumulating points, and proving himself in a discipline where China had yet to establish a consistent international presence.

What followed in Beijing was not the coronation of a favorite, but the eruption of a challenger.

At 17, Su first claimed silver in slopestyle, then days later delivered a then cutting-edge 1800-degree spin in the big air final to win gold, becoming China's first Olympic snowboard champion. A teenager who had fought simply to qualify now stood at the summit of the sport.

The rise was sudden. So was the transformation.

Overnight, Su shifted from emerging talent to national symbol. The starting line reset. Expectation replaced anonymity.

"I was just a kid who loved the sport," he later reflected.

By the time he arrived in Milan, the context had changed. He was no longer surprising the field. He was a defending champion -- and, in his words, "a representative of Chinese snowboarding."

"I feel much more responsibility this time," he said. "Not just for myself, but for the team and for Chinese winter sports."

In Beijing, he had been the lone Chinese male qualifier in snowboard big air and slopestyle. Four years later, he shared the start list with two teammates, a quiet sign that both he and the program have grown.

REBUILDING AFTER THE SUMMIT

If Beijing 2022 was his breakout moment, the years that followed felt closer to a descent.

Su has spoken candidly about the emptiness that arrived the morning after his Olympic triumph. The medals lay beside him, but the emotional high had already faded.

"It felt unreal," he once said. "Almost like falling from the peak to the bottom."

That sudden rise came at a cost. Physically and mentally exhausted, he stepped away from the relentless rhythm of elite training. He needed distance -- not from snowboarding itself, but from the machinery that surrounded it.

"I didn't want to be over-consumed," he said. "If I'm exhausted, I don't believe I can show my best version."

When he returned, the sport had accelerated. Men's park snowboarding was evolving at breakneck speed.

"The tricks that won in Beijing now might not even score 80," he said.

At the same time, injuries disrupted his preparation. An ankle injury limited his training, and forced him to adjust his competition schedule. Progress was no longer linear.

"When your mind is ready, your body might not be," Su reflected during the Milan Games. "And when your body feels better, you may not fully believe in yourself yet."

Qualification for Milan did not arrive automatically. He had to earn points again, event by event, while managing pain and doubt.

There were moments, he admitted, when he nearly broke.

Yet he never stood alone.

"On the start platform stood coach Yasuhiro Sato. Near the finish area waited my parents. I grew up in love," Su said. "I'm very lucky."

That support did not remove uncertainty.

"But it gave me strength," he added. "No matter what happens, I know they are there."

Coming to the Milan-Cortina Winter Olympics, he was no longer defending a halo. He was restoring balance.

A DIFFERENT PRESENCE IN MILAN

The competitions in Livigno did not repeat those in Beijing. They demanded something different.

In the men's big air final, Su failed to defend his Olympic title. Two slight hand touches on landing cost him crucial points, and he settled for bronze. Four years earlier, a result short of gold might have shaped the entire narrative. This time, it did not.

"I'm proud of that bronze," he said. "But I knew I still had another chance."

There was no lingering frustration, only recalibration.

Days later in the same Alpine venue, slopestyle presented a new test. Weather disruptions had shortened preparation.

"There was pressure when the schedule changed," he said. "But everyone had the same time. If others can do it, so can I."

Seeded eighth after qualification, Su started early in the final, a position that leaves little room to adjust to judges' scoring patterns.

"At the Olympic final, there is nothing to save," he said. "I just wanted to put down my heaviest run."

An opening run of 82.41 points immediately put him in control. No one surpassed it. He secured China's first title of the Games.

The technical level of men's park snowboarding has risen sharply since Beijing. Rotations once considered decisive are now standard. In such an environment, execution under pressure outweighs reputation.

At 17, Su competed on instinct. At 22, he competes with perspective.

"I've already experienced success," he said. "Now it's about becoming better than yesterday."

The medals differ in color and order. The man who earned them has changed as well.

Beijing revealed a fearless prodigy. Livigno showed a more mature snowboarder who understands what comes after the summit, and how to live with both victory and expectation. ■