| Over the next few weeks leading into the Winter Olympics in Beijing (Feb. 4-20), you’ll likely hear some interviews with athletes where they talk about savoring the experience, the honor of it all, and how winning is the primary aim, but not the only one. This is not one of those interviews. Joey Mantia, a three-time world champion in long track speedskating and a leader of a U.S. team hoping for its best medal haul since 2006, knows what it’s like to compete at a Games and come back empty-handed. He has no interest in going through that again. This is why, as final preparations ramp up, Mantia has no thought of going to China to have a good time, make some new friends, swap some trading pins and hopefully put in a strong performance. “I’ve living and dying by a gold medal,” he told me on a Zoom call this week. “I’m done with the whole thing of giving the politically correct answer to take pressure away from myself. It’s not about saying how I want to enjoy the process and we’ll see what happens anymore. I’m as proud as anyone to represent my country. I’ve enjoyed walking in the Opening Ceremony and staying in the Athletes’ Village. I’ve lived the journey. It’s not about the journey now, it’s about the destination.” The journey has been a long one. Before switching to the ice, Mantia was previously the wunderkind of inline skating, winning 28 world titles across multiple events, and is still regarded as perhaps the greatest in-liner in history. He crossed over to the ice a decade ago, meaning Sochi in 2014 could be played off as a learning experience. But by the time PyeongChang rolled around in 2018, Mantia was reigning world champ in the mass start event and a medal favorite. Ultimately, he crossed the line in fourth, then had another close shave in the 1,500 meters, again missing the podium by a single spot. This time around, he is the frontman for a U.S. team pursuit squad that recently broke the world record, the World Cup series leader in the 1,500, and still holds the mass start world title. The mindset is different this time. The expectation, from those within the sport and from himself, is something he is emboldened by rather than something he fears. Truth be told, if there is one thing he’s nervous about, it’s less related to what he can accomplish in China and more about what lies in the future. For he’ll turn 36 during Beijing and knows the realities. The explosive power needed in long track, as well as the necessary daily grind of training, eventually catch up to everyone. “I am anticipating post-athletic career depression,” Mantia added, frankly. “I mean that in a light-hearted way almost. It won’t be easy to give up and feel I have no purpose in life. Hopefully being aware of it means I am prepared. “I know that whatever I do next, there will be an emptiness to my identity for a while. I’ve spent 20 years being an athlete and chasing this dream. That’s a big change.” The athletes who move into regular life most effectively are the ones who have some semblance of normalcy already. Mantia, originally from Ocala, Florida, isn’t a party animal but enjoys some regular-guy pursuits. COVID has restricted his ability to interact socially with most of his non-skating friends, which has made the grind a little tougher. “I miss it,” he said. “Just seeing people outside of skating. I don’t have a roommate, I don’t have a pet. For sure, it can get lonely.” Speedskating doesn’t confer great riches, with sponsorship opportunities largely limited to the period around the Olympics. Despite being at the top of the sport for several years, Mantia had to get by on an income of $30,000 in 2019 and is grateful to have bought his home in the Salt Lake City suburbs before property prices exploded. His sponsors include Under Armour, energy drink Reign and even a company that crafts Japanese knives called Burrfection — and every bit counts. Mantia has been around long enough and has enough perspective to know the position of winter sports in the American entertainment hierarchy. The masses pay attention every four years, and this year the Super Bowl comes smack in the middle of the Games. “We are not relevant the rest of the time,” Mantia said. “We are relevant for a month or less. If you’re an athlete in a team sport making millions, it’s not even a decision about whether to keep going. It’s a little different for us.” He considered quitting after 2018, but something stopped him — the idea that whatever he did next he probably wouldn’t love as much as this. Also, he kept getting better, having negotiated some improvements in the U.S. Speedskating structure that allowed him greater autonomy over the make-up of his training programs. His workouts are legendary in the speedskating community for their intensity and duration, and they’re not for the faint of heart. But this isn’t the time to hold back. Mantia knows deep down the path is coming towards an end, and his focus is singularly set on victory. For most, that would bring pressure. For Mantia, it’s about the fulfillment of what he’s always done. A gold medal isn’t an impossible dream or even, truth be told, something that would change who he is. It’s an item on the to-do list, a challenge to be attacked, and, most importantly, something he knows he’s capable of. This is why he doesn’t bother too much with the details of these upcoming Olympics. He may or may not walk in the Ceremony. He knows he’ll spend a lot of time in his room in these COVID-affected times — the Games, for example, will allow no spectators from overseas. He is aware there are other athletes, all highly accomplished, with the same hopes and desires as he. But there might not be any who see things quite the same way — gold or nothing — and who possess the confidence to back it up. |
