Lindsey Vonn went big, skiing at the Olympics on a torn ACL. She was willing to be vulnerable, and women in sports shouldn't be afraid to do the same.
Once Lindsey Vonn stopped spinning and sliding, the screaming could be heard.
One of the greatest female athletes the world has ever seen was in agony.
Many of us felt her pain.
Over the weekend when the skiing superstar crashed out of the Olympics only 13 seconds into her first run in the women’s downhill, the moment immediately spurred debate.
Some saw it as validation for why Vonn shouldn’t have been competing in the first place; she completely tore her ACL a mere nine days earlier. Others said that she took a spot from someone more deserving, that her ego got in the way, that someone should’ve stopped her from competing, that what happened took away from the other American skiers, that this whole situation sent a bad message to other athletes that they can compete through a shredded knee and bone bruising and meniscus damage if they just grit their teeth and want it bad enough.
Those last two bits, I agree with. But on the first — American Breezy Johnson took gold — Vonn doesn’t decide what makes headlines or what people want to talk about. And on the second, I suspect most folks know that Vonn isn’t like most athletes and that going 80 mph down a mountain without a functioning ACL isn’t generally advised.
Essentially: Kids, don’t try this at home.
But Vonn isn’t a kid. She’s a 41-year-old badass, and these Olympic Games are likely her last. Vonn decided to compete not only because she wanted to win more medals but also because she wanted to have no regrets. No wondering what if.
She wasn’t just brave.
She was vulnerable.
That’s a word that hasn’t been tied to Vonn much over the past couple of weeks. Oh, vulnerable has been used to describe how her knee injury affected her health and well-being. It made her vulnerable to something bad happening.
But the vulnerability that I saw was on a deeper level — and as fellow woman in the sports world, I applaud it. I welcome it. I hope girls and women in sports emulate it when it feels easier to go with the flow and not expose ourselves to criticism.
Vonn didn't take the easy path. She knew this was likely her last Olympics — she was actually retired for six years before making an unlikely comeback two years ago — and she also knew how compromised her left knee was. She could feel it. Maybe when she got out of bed in the morning. Perhaps when she momentarily forgot her situation, took a wrong step and felt pain shooting up her leg.
No doubt Vonn understood that her final Olympic moment might go horribly wrong. The last time the world saw her compete might end in a last-place finish or a crash or worse.
Safe to say, it was worse.
A helicopter had to airlift Vonn off the mountain, and instead of crossing the finish line, she flew over it en route to the hospital. She had fractured her leg so badly that it would require surgery.
Some will remember that Vonn moment above all others.
She was willing to risk that and so much more when she entered the mountain-top starting house over the weekend.
That kind of vulnerability isn’t often talked about in sports. We package it in terms of grittiness and persistence and toughness. When we learned that Jalen Williams, for instance, played the entirety of the NBA Playoffs with a wrist so damaged it would require surgery, everyone talked about how the Thunder star was so tenacious. Or when John Mateer returned to the football field 17 days after having surgery on his throwing hand, everyone said the OU quarterback was so tough.
Those things are true.
But Williams and Mateer were also vulnerable. They played even though it could open them to criticism — and the criticism came.
In Williams’ case, people wondered why he had some extremely poor shooting nights, but he’d chosen to keep his injury a secret. That means no one knew that when he went 3 of 16 against Denver, it might’ve been because his wrist was being held together by an elaborate tape job.
As for Mateer, the impact of his injury and surgery was evident throughout the rest of the season. He wasn’t as sharp, wasn’t as confident, and even though he quarterbacked the Sooners to the College Football Playoff, questions abounded about whether OU should find a new quarterback.
Competing when you’re hurt comes with risks — and not just to an athlete’s physical health.
Vonn accepted all the risks when she decided to compete in the Olympics, whatever slings and arrows might be shot her way.
And lots of them are being shot now.
But as a woman in the sports world, I appreciate Vonn’s willingness to be vulnerable, something that we should celebrate and emulate. She went big. She took a risk. She opened herself up. She welcomed the possibility of success or failure, of gold or DNF, of praise or criticism.
When she crashed out of the Olympics, the latter became the harsh reality with a spinning, sliding, screaming end. Those harsh cries were laced with pain and sorrow.
But there was no regret.
Jenni Carlson: Jenni can be reached at [email protected]. Like her at facebook.com/JenniCarlsonOK, follow her at @jennicarlsonok.bsky.social and twitter.com/jennicarlson_ok, andsupport her work and that of other Oklahoman journalists by purchasing a digital subscription today.
This article originally appeared on Oklahoman: Lindsey Vonn's Olympic crash: A brave act of vulnerability
Category: General Sports
