Welcome to classic, clinical Olympic decision-making.
Canada’s cross-country program has never been an international power, and never won an Olympic medal. But new coach Inge Braten was brought aboard to change that trend. So when the Canadian men notched six top-10 cross-country finishes in these Games – three of them in the 30K event – it became clear Canada had a chance to medal in the 50K. A chance that is most reachable if the Canadians field their best possible foursome.
That reality has left McKeever on the outside, as Braten chose four strong skiers who all had better odds at medaling than McKeever.
“I have to be professional,” Braten told reporters. “I have to choose the guys who are best for the 50K. Normally, sorry to say, all four are faster than Brian. And I think they can fight for a medal – all four of them. And I then have to pick out one who has a medal chance and put in Brian?
“That’s the situation. I don’t like it.”
To be fair, it’s not an enviable position. Taking out a medal hopeful and replacing him with a lesser competitor almost runs contrary to the Olympic ideal. And in any other situation, it’s a cold and understandable choice that gets made without much fanfare. Look no further than Alpine skiing, where many athletes travel to the Games but never get into an event, simply because they are trumped by someone who is a better medal contender.
But this isn’t a normal circumstance, and McKeever is anything but an average story. He carries with him one of the special tales in these Games. A beam of light that keeps the Games joyful and embraceable, shining through the unavoidable pettiness intertwined with the Olympic rings. He gives us a distraction from the feuding teammates and questionable judging and commercialization. He lifts us and leaves us with an indelible memory … the kind of memory that draws us back again four years later.
McKeever is the product of a skiing family; his older brother Robin competed in the 1998 Olympics in Nagano, Japan. Brian loved the idea of following in those footsteps. A talent on the junior skiing circuit at the time, he watched his brother like he was watching his own dream. He thought it was beautiful.
One month after those Nagano Games, McKeever was diagnosed with Stargardt disease. He knew exactly what it was – a genetic macular degeneration that leads to blindness. His father had the disease but had hoped it would skip over his two sons. Robin was fortunate. Brian wasn’t. Two years after his diagnosis, McKeever was declared legally blind at the age of 21.
Yet he never surrendered his dream of skiing. Despite his eyesight decaying to the point where he had less than 10 percent of his normal vision, he would step out on the snow, snap on his boots, and do his best to stay on the white between the green. The little vision that remained was peripheral, meaning he could see the edges of his vision, but not the middle. He often compares it to the hole in a doughnut – relating that he can see the outer edges of the doughnut, but not the middle.
McKeever took that doughnut and did amazing things with it, skiing in the 2002 Paralympic Games in Salt Lake City and 2006 in Torino, capturing four golds, two silvers and one bronze in various cross-country races over that span. All the while, his brother Robin led the way, doing his part as McKeever’s course guide. But it wasn’t until December, when McKeever won a 50K Olympic trial race in convincing fashion – and without a guide – that his dream became a reality.
One month later, he was named to the Canadian Olympic cross-country team, in a fashion that drew national attention. Indeed, it appeared to be the full embrace. McKeever was trumpeted as the first Winter Games athlete who would compete in both the Olympic and Paralympic Games.
And he was held up to all Canadians as a testament to the human spirit. His status as an active Olympian seemed set in stone – so much so, that Visa even began airing his own commercial in February, featuring a voiceover from actor Morgan Freeman.
“I’m sometimes struck just by the beauty of what we get to do, and the places we get to see,” McKeever said of the experience. “I’m thankful that I still can see what I do. We do live in a beautiful world. Sometimes we get jaded by the country that we live in – because we see it all the time.”