At the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan-Cortina, American figure skater Amber Glenn experienced one of the most heartbreaking moments an athlete can face on the grandest stage. The three-time reigning U.S. champion, widely regarded as a strong contender for a medal in the women’s singles event, delivered a performance that started with promise but unraveled in an instant due to a single, devastating technical error. The mistake in her short program on February 17, 2026, dropped her to 13th place with a score of 67.39, shattering the momentum she had carefully built throughout the season and leaving her visibly devastated as she left the ice.
Glenn, 26, from Texas, entered the competition as one of the “Blade Angels” alongside teammates Alysa Liu and Isabeau Levito, carrying high expectations after a dominant run in recent national championships. Skating second-to-last in the field of 29 competitors, she took to the Milano Ice Skating Arena rink under intense pressure, performing to Madonna’s iconic “Like a Prayer.” The program opened strongly: she nailed a clean, powerful triple Axel—one of only two landed successfully that night—earning applause from the crowd and setting a solid foundation. The element showcased her technical prowess and confidence, positioning her well for what many hoped would be a medal-contending outing.
The routine flowed with grace and precision through the early elements, including a successful triple flip-triple toe combination. Glenn appeared in full command, her movements fluid and expressive, drawing the audience in with her artistry. But disaster struck on the final required jump: a planned triple loop. Instead of completing the three full rotations, she popped the jump, managing only a double loop. The takeoff was mistimed, and she bailed mid-air, resulting in the element being ruled an “invalid” by the technical panel. Under the strict scoring rules of figure skating, where short programs demand specific jump requirements, this meant zero points for the attempt—a brutal deduction that wiped out roughly seven to eight potential points.
The impact was immediate and crushing. Glenn’s technical score plummeted, and her overall total of 67.39 left her trailing far behind the leaders, including Japan’s Ami Nakai in first (78.71) and Kaori Sakamoto in second (77.23). Teammate Alysa Liu secured third with 76.59, while Isabeau Levito finished eighth. For Glenn, who had been in contention for gold or at least a podium spot had the jump succeeded, the zero proved catastrophic. She finished 13th, more than 11 points off the top and well outside realistic medal range without extraordinary performances from others and near-perfection in the free skate.
As the final notes faded, Glenn sank to her knees at center ice, hands clasped to her chest, eyes already welling up. She skated off the ice fighting visible emotion, her face etched with disbelief and sorrow. In the kiss-and-cry area, cameras captured the raw aftermath: Glenn dropped her head into her hands, tears streaming as she awaited the inevitable score. Her coach, Damon Allen, offered comfort, rubbing her back while she breathed heavily and replayed the moment in her mind. The heartbreak was palpable—she had come so close, only to see her Olympic dream derailed by a split-second lapse.
In post-performance comments, Glenn described the feeling as “soul-crushing,” admitting that the error felt like her dreams had been “smashed to pieces.” She explained losing focus just enough to mistime the takeoff, a rare slip for someone who had executed the program flawlessly in training and competitions leading up to the Games. The vulnerability she showed resonated deeply, humanizing the high-stakes world of elite figure skating where one small mistake can change everything.
Fans across the United States and around the world rallied in support almost immediately. Social media overflowed with messages of encouragement, reminding Glenn that her career encompasses far more than one program. Supporters praised her resilience, her groundbreaking achievements—including consistent triple Axels and multiple national titles—and her openness about mental health struggles in the past. Many emphasized that figure skating rewards those who rise after setbacks, pointing to her determination as the key to a strong free skate on February 19. Comments flooded in: “One jump doesn’t define you,” “You’ve got this, Amber—show them in the long,” and “Your tears show how much it means; that’s what makes champions.”
The incident highlighted the unforgiving nature of Olympic figure skating. The short program, worth roughly one-third of the total score, demands precision across required elements, and any deviation—like popping a jump—carries severe penalties. Glenn’s error, though not a fall, was arguably more punishing because it invalidated the element entirely, a rule that has sparked debate about its harshness. Yet it also underscored her strength: she completed the rest of the program with composure, earning solid program component scores for artistry and interpretation.
As the competition moved toward the free skate, Glenn returned to the ice for practice the following day, determined to reclaim her joy and deliver the performance she knew she was capable of. While medal hopes dimmed significantly, the door remained open for a respectable climb with a clean, high-scoring long program. Her teammates’ strong showings kept American hopes alive—Alysa Liu in striking distance of the podium—but Glenn’s story became one of personal perseverance amid disappointment.
The tears on ice captured the essence of the Olympics: triumph and heartbreak intertwined, where athletes pour everything into fleeting moments. Amber Glenn’s short program may have ended in sorrow, but her spirit, vulnerability, and the outpouring of support suggest this chapter is far from over. Viewers who witnessed her emotion connected on a profound level, seeing not just an athlete, but a person chasing a lifelong dream with everything she had. Whatever unfolds in the free skate, Glenn’s journey at these Games has already left an indelible mark—one of courage in the face of crushing setback.
