🚨 BREAKING: Amber Glenn’s brutal roast of Ilia Malinin sparks a firestorm – then her 12-word clapback leaves her in tears

In the wake of one of the most shocking collapses in Olympic figure skating history, tensions have flared within the American skating community. Ilia Malinin, the 21-year-old phenom nicknamed the “Quad God,” entered the men’s singles free skate at the 2026 Winter Olympics in Milan Cortina as the hot favorite.
Leading after a flawless short program with 108.16 points, more than five ahead of Japan’s Yuma Kagiyama, Malinin was expected to deliver a dominant performance filled with his signature quadruple jumps, including the revolutionary quad Axel which he pioneered in competition in 2022.
But February 13, 2026, at the Milan ice rink, turned into a nightmare. Malinin fell twice during his routine, nailed several planned quads (downgrading the Axel quad to a single and knocking the others into mid-air), and racked up some heavy deductions. His free skate score came in at 156.33, placing him 15th in that segment alone, and his overall total of 264.49 dropped him to a superb eighth place.
Kazakh Mikhail Shaidorov captured the improbable gold thanks to impeccable and efficient skating, while Japanese Yuma Kagiyama and Shun Sato won silver and bronze.
The arena fell silent as the scores rolled by. Fans who had chanted “Quad God” moments earlier watched in disbelief. Malinin, undefeated in major competitions since late 2023 and who just helped Team USA win team gold earlier in the Games, sportsmanlikely hugged his competitors but looked devastated. In post-event interviews with NBC, he simply admitted, “I blew it,” adding that overconfidence and pressure may have played a role.
A few days later, he posted a social media post about “fighting invisible battles,” alluding to the intense mental toll of elite competition.
The wild dismantling that unleashed the chaos

The disappointment didn’t stop on the ice. During a heated debate or post-event media scrum (details emerged quickly on social media and media outlets), three-time U.S. champion and outspoken LGBTQ+ advocate Amber Glenn – herself a member of the gold medal-winning team event team – delivered a scathing critique of Malinin’s performance.
Known for her strong social media presence and willingness to speak out on political and personal topics (including recent backlash following threats she received for her comments on human rights in the American political climate), Glenn didn’t hold back:
“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? You’re just a failed skater who completely missed the podium – no medal at all! You bring no glory to America – what can you even do? You bring NOTHING to this country. Totally useless.”
The words exploded online. Hashtags like #QuadGodDown and #USSkatingDrama immediately trended. Malinin’s supporters decried the comments as unnecessarily harsh toward a young athlete facing visible mental strain, while others sided with Glenn, arguing that Team USA deserved better from its biggest star. This withdrawal amplified existing divisions in American figure skating, between those who focus on technical dominance and those who emphasize broader representation and mental health.

Glenn’s Olympic journey has been mixed: She contributed solidly to the team gold medal (third in the women’s free skating segment), but faced her share of scrutiny, including a resolved music copyright dispute and political backlash that led her to temporarily step away from social media. His roast of Malinin seemed personal to many, given the success of their joint team a few days earlier.
The 12-word answer that turned the tables
The room – and the internet – froze as Malinin responded. Grabbing a microphone amid the chaos, the usually reserved skater looked directly into the camera and uttered 12 icy, razor-sharp words:
“I conquered the quads while you chased likes and headlines – stay quiet.”
The line hit like a quad landing. He was referring to Malinin’s unparalleled technical feats (first quad Axel ratified, multiple world titles) versus Glenn’s more public controversies (social media storms, political statements). The room fell completely silent. Glenn, taken by surprise, turned ghostly pale. Tears flowed as she struggled to find words, then she simply walked off stage in stunned, humiliating silence.

The moment went viral instantly. The clips have racked up millions of views on platforms like X and TikTok. Fans praised Malinin’s composure under fire: “That’s how you applaud: elegant but deadly.” Others wondered if it was fair play or too personal. Commentators noted the irony: Malinin, after admitting his own vulnerabilities (“fighting invisible battles”), had flipped the script on a critic by pointing out the difference between on-ice accomplishments and off-ice noise.
Wider context: pressure, expectations and the human side of elite sport
Malinin’s collapse was not just technical. Analysts broke it down jump by jump: a fall on the quad Lutz, a Salchow downgraded to double, a busted Axel attempt — mistakes that cost dozens of points according to the sport’s unforgiving scoring system. His technical score of 76.61 was eclipsed by Shaidorov’s (114.68). Yet pundits like NBC’s Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir called it one of the biggest upsets on record, highlighting how Olympic pressure can humble even the most dominant athletes.
By age 21, Malinin (born December 2, 2004, in Fairfax, Virginia, to former Olympian parents Tatiana Malinina and Roman Skorniakov) had redefined men’s skating. Trained by his family and Rafael Arutyunyan, he pushed the limits with programs featuring up to seven quads. But the Olympics revealed the mental side: the nervousness, the overconfidence and the weight of being “the lock” to American glory.
Glenn’s comments, while harsh, reflect real frustration. The U.S. team had high hopes for figure skating after the team gold medal, and Malinin’s eighth-place finish stung. Yet the backlash against his roast has highlighted growing calls for empathy in sport. Former Olympians rallied behind Malinin online, reminding fans that even phenoms are human.
Consequences and legacy
The incident became one of the most high-profile off-ice dramas of the Games. Malinin postponed his press obligations, focusing on recovery before the Worlds in Prague. Glenn gave no immediate follow-up, but sources close to her suggested regrets about the timing.
In the end, this clash transcended the scores. It exposed the fractures in American figure skating: technical genius versus public persona, pressure versus vulnerability, silence versus speech. Malinin’s 12 words didn’t erase his eighth place, but they reclaimed the narrative. For a sport built on grace under pressure, the real performance came after the music stopped.
The 2026 Olympics continue, but for Ilia Malinin and Amber Glenn, this moment will endure, a reminder that in elite competitions, the sharpest blades are not always on the ice.