In a stunning development that has left the figure skating community reeling, Alysa Liu’s longtime coach Massimo Scali addressed the media earlier today, March 9, 2026, providing the first detailed insight into why the reigning Olympic champion has withdrawn from the 2026 ISU World Figure Skating Championships in Prague. The announcement follows Liu’s own emotional press conference where she tearfully pleaded, “I hope everyone won’t abandon me, because perhaps I have to…”—words that now take on even greater weight amid revelations of severe health struggles and alarming fan harassment.
Scali, who has coached Liu alongside Phillip DiGuglielmo since her triumphant return to the sport, did not mince words. “She has endured enough already,” he stated firmly, his voice cracking with concern. “I hope everyone can understand her. Right now she has to prioritize her health and safety above all else.” The incomplete phrase echoed Liu’s earlier statement, fueling widespread worry that the 20-year-old is facing a serious, ongoing crisis that extends beyond typical post-Olympic fatigue.
Liu’s withdrawal, confirmed just days before the Worlds begin on March 24, comes after her historic double-gold performance at the Milano Cortina 2026 Winter Olympics—claiming individual women’s gold and contributing to the team event triumph. Her comeback narrative captivated the world: retiring at 16 after the 2022 Beijing Games due to burnout and mental strain, she stepped away for two years, rediscovered her passion, and returned to dominate. Yet the very fame that accompanied her success has apparently become a source of profound distress.
Central to Scali’s comments—and the growing concern—is Liu’s deteriorating mental and emotional health. Insiders close to the team describe her as “deeply unwell,” struggling with intensified anxiety, sleep disturbances, and resurfacing trauma from her early career pressures. Liu has openly discussed past experiences of restrictive coaching, constant performance anxiety, and even physical discomforts like being denied water during intense sessions—factors that contributed to her initial retirement. While her new coaching dynamic with Scali and DiGuglielmo emphasized empathy, creative control, and stress management (including unconventional rituals like champagne before skates), the post-Olympic spotlight has overwhelmed these safeguards.
Compounding her health issues is a disturbing wave of fan behavior that has crossed into harassment territory. Just days after returning from Milan, Liu shared a harrowing experience on Instagram Stories: landing at an airport to find a mob of fans waiting, invading her personal space, and one individual chasing her all the way to her car. “All up in my personal space. Someone chased me to my car bruh.
Please do not do that to me,” she posted, accompanied by a crying emoji and a photo from inside what appeared to be a storage closet where she had sought refuge. The incident, while not resulting in physical harm, left her visibly shaken and prompted a public plea for boundaries.
This was not an isolated event. Reports indicate Liu has faced escalating overzealous attention since her Olympic wins, including persistent crowds, invasive photography, and online interactions that veer into intimidation. The surge in her Instagram following—to over 7 million—has amplified the scrutiny, turning admiration into something far more intrusive.
Scali alluded to these pressures indirectly, noting that “the demands placed on her now are unlike anything she’s faced before,” and emphasizing the need for her to “step back to heal.” He stressed that her decision is not about abandoning the sport but protecting her well-being in the face of threats to her mental stability and personal safety.
The figure skating world has reacted with a mix of shock and support. Fellow athletes, including those who might benefit from her absence (Sarah Everhardt steps in as replacement), have voiced solidarity. “Take care of yourself first, Alysa—we’re all here for you,” one prominent U.S. skater posted. Fans, while disappointed about missing her title defense, have flooded social media with messages of encouragement, many acknowledging the dark side of celebrity in sports. Experts in sports psychology point out that post-Olympic “crashes” are common among champions, where adrenaline withdrawal combines with heightened expectations and loss of privacy to trigger breakdowns.
Liu’s history adds context to her current fragility. Her initial retirement stemmed from feeling trapped in a rigid system that prioritized results over humanity. Her return was hailed as a model of resilience, but Scali’s words suggest the cycle may be repeating under new pressures. “She has given everything to this sport—twice,” he said. “Now it’s time for the sport, and the fans, to give back by giving her space.”
As Prague prepares without its defending champion, questions linger about Liu’s future. Will this be a temporary hiatus, like her previous break, or a longer withdrawal? Scali remained hopeful but cautious: “When she’s ready, she’ll decide. But right now, she has to focus on getting better.” The community watches anxiously, hoping the young star who brought so much joy on the ice can find peace off it.
Liu’s story serves as a stark reminder of the human cost behind athletic glory. In an era of instant fame and constant connectivity, even the brightest talents can be pushed to breaking points by adoration turned invasive. Her coach’s plea for understanding underscores a larger call: to prioritize athletes’ mental health and personal boundaries over endless performance demands.
For now, the ice awaits, but Alysa Liu’s health comes first. The figure skating world stands in solidarity, praying for her recovery and a safe return—whenever that may be.
