February 16, 2026

Welcome back to The Ski Saga, where the snow falls sideways, the rules are measured in millimetres, and everyone is certain they own at least three weather apps.

First, the big operatic number from Predazzo: the men’s ski jumping Super Team got abandoned mid-chaos, and Germany missed bronze by 0.3 points—about the width of a bad mood. The German camp called it “poor management,” and you could practically hear the collective teeth grinding in DSV’s post-storm venting. Somewhere in the jury tower, a man named Sandro is still explaining that fairness is hard when the inrun turns into a snow-cone machine.

Austria, meanwhile, did what Austria does: jumped far, stayed calm-ish, and left with gold. Jan Hörl and Stephan Embacher became champions in a contest that ended like a community theater performance when the fire alarm goes off—awkwardly, abruptly, but with applause anyway. The official story: Austria saved the best until last. The unofficial story: the weather saved everyone from having to finish.

And if you think the snowstorm was the only drama—oh no. We also have the eternal ski-jumping side quest: equipment rules. The Norwegians have now found time to accuse Austria’s “Adlers” of cheating after a shoe-size disqualification—four millimetres that launched a thousand opinions in the tide-turning accusation derby. It’s the kind of measurement that makes you wonder whether the real Olympic venue is, in fact, the equipment-control table.

Down in biathlon country, the mood swings from heartfelt to head-scratching. Italy’s Lisa Vittozzi—who says she thought about retiring last year—is now shopping for more medals like it’s the end-of-season sale. Sweden, on the other hand, is going with the timeless strategy of trusting the relay guy even after a sprint disaster: Jesper Nelin is still selected, because relays are a different religion and coaches are allowed to believe in miracles.