“I feel like I am, really, on top of the sport with a select group of these other skiers and it’s up to us to, really, kind of set the path of what’s going to happen in the next couple years.” – Joss Christensen
I first met Joss Christensen back in early 2014, when he was on his return trip/media tour from winning gold in Sochi. He walked in with a team of three or four others, all dressed for the morning talk show circuit (so that vaguely familiar fancy mountain casual). Joss, of course, carried his medal — not in a bag or anything else protective, but in his hand. And once we sat down, I noticed that the way he carried his medal was the way he carried himself: outwardly confident, putting his honest opinions out for everyone to hear, but in a manner that said, “so what?”
You see, Joss doesn’t perceive himself as special. He is aware of his place in the sport, and the responsibilities that come with it — and absolutely wants to succeed and continue to be the best — but, to him, there is nothing particularly special about that. This is simply is who he is and what he is doing. That sort of grounding isn’t what you come to expect from an Olympian, let alone the top of the podium. But to hell if Joss cares what you expect.
Basically, as I’ve written before: “Joss Christensen wasn’t supposed to win gold at the Olympics. Hell, he wasn’t even supposed to go. And once he snagged a spot on the talented American team — the final, discretionary spot at that — there were still strong doubts that he would make the podium. Well, lucky for him, he didn’t give a damn what was supposed to happen. And now he’s on a mother-fucking box of cereal.”
Yep, a mother-fucking box of cereal.
And now here he is talking about progression in skiing, losing his father a mere year before the Olympics, his greatest fears, and the key to happiness, the last of which he identifies as being comfortable with your life. Well… from the looks of it — despite heartbreaking loss and forever increasing pressures — Joss is one happy camper.
Thank you to the crew at Mammoth Mountain and Mammoth Inn for their long-time harboring and development of Olympic-caliber athletes — as well as the continued good graces shared with our (much) less athletic editorial team.
