First, we want to celebrate all of the hardworking father’s on the USA Nordic staff. Then below, our athletes share some stories and express thanks to their own father’s who have instilled them with a love for skiing and a passion for excellence on and off the snow.
Happy Father’s Day, from USA Nordic.
Billy Demong, Executive Director
Jed Hinkley, Sport Development Director
Alan Alborn, Women’s Ski Jumping Coach
Bine Norcic, Men’s Ski Jumping Coach
Balki Vhrovec, Men’s Ski Jumping Coach
Jan Matura, Nordic Combined Coach
Sarah Hendrickson
My dad started my brother and I on skis from the age of two. I always remember loving it and thrived on the weekends we got to ski the resort with mom and dad. Skiing was never about having the best skis, the most expensive clothing, or the newest style, I got all my ski stuff from hand me downs and ski swaps. But that was what always worked. We loved skiing in any form so we made it work. I am very thankful to live in a ski town that has made it possible for “normal” families to get on skis from a young age.
This past winter when I took time off to go to school and not compete, I took myself back to the reason I love skiing. Whether it is early morning powder days, sunny groomers, or fast days, the smiles on the slopes are something I have found myself living for. The community around skiing is very special and has made me a better athlete and person. I hope to spread the love of skiing, and all sports in general, to those that are less fortunate than me.
I am thankful for all the fathers out there that spend time teaching their daughters to do sports and follow their passion. I feel as though my dad is very proud of me no matter my results because of the relationship that we have built on the trails, slopes, and adventures. Happy Fathers day to all.
Decker Dean
The best memory I have would just be how he would come and watch every session at Howelson after school because it was so cool knowing that he cared so much about myself and the sport.
Andrew Urlaub
Dear dad,
Thank you for the countless support you’ve given me in pursuing my dream. You have shown me how to work hard and follow my passion. I will always be grateful for the numerous below-zero nights at the ski jump showing never ending support. Please keep showing me the way.
Love – Andrew
Logan Sankey
Hey! My dad taught me how to ski when I was two and has been encouraging me to rip ever since!
Here’s a photo of him taking me off a jump when I was 2 or 3.
Grant Andrews
My dad has been by my side to watch me progress through nordic combined since the beginning. He also introduced me to the sport in the first place because he thought ski jumping was so cool, and after I started jumping I agreed, which is why I’m still here today doing the sport I love.
As I got more invested in the sport so did my dad. When I was young he started out marking for the small hill competitions and then eventually started training to become a judge. He has gone on to be a part of the jury for many of the highest national and North American competitions and is now the head official for the Rocky mountain division!
Of all the memories I have of my dad judging and cheering me on, the memory that I remember most is the national championship and springer tourney races down at soldier hollow. He, and many other parents would stand on hermodes hill during the 10k race at 4pm in the afternoon when it felt like 100° outside, and cheer me and my teammates on as we raced by. But the best part was the ice water he had in 2-3 Nalgene water bottles that he would pour down my back as I raced by each lap. Both shocking me as the ice water hit and then easing the heat of late July Utah once the shock of the water passed.
My dad has been involved in the sport since I started and I can’t thank him enough for everything that he does both for me and the sport!
Nina Lussi
My dad, Art, can be credited with my love for all things skiing related. Being the middle child, I was lucky enough to avoid his earliest ski teaching methods. This involved a snow-covered driveway, a black Dodge Durango, and a waterski rope tied around my sister, Danielle’s waist, since she kept letting go of the rope. It’s all about getting time on snow right? Well, little Danielle took a tumble on her skis, and ended up dragging for a few feet behind the car, and that marked the end of the Averyville Road ski lessons.
Years later, all three kids were very proficient skiers and had migrated to the ski jumping side of things. Weekends were spent driving around the East Coast to various competitions with my mom, and we could not get enough of it. It was 2007, and both Danielle and I had qualified for Junior Olympics in Park City, UT. Miles (Nina’s younger brother) was too young, and would not stop grumbling about having to sit out another big trip. This is where my dad came in.
Ever-supportive from afar, my dad was not the one who spent the weekends on the road with us, so it came as a surprise when he announced he really wanted to make the trip out to Park City. As a 12-year-old, I was excited to show my stuff out West, and my self centered 12-year-old self also thought he just wanted to come see me on the podium. I should have known better.
My dad loves all sports, and has a hard time watching them because he becomes emotionally overinvested [for example, he couldn’t watch any of the Bruins playoff games, because they lost the game we went to, and he figured it was bad karma – he will then wake up in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep and needs to check the score]. He also does not like big shiny medals and trophies, and is a big advocate for the all-inclusive Norwegian Children’s Rights in Sports model.
Long story short, my dad was thrilled that my little brother Miles was not going to be competing in Park City, as this meant he had a constant ski buddy. While we spent the majority of the week fighting it out amid the wind, snow, and altitude at the Utah Olympic Park, Miles and Art had the powder days of their life. I remember Miles gushing about some “cliff that he hucked” at Alta, and it made me feel kind of silly for wanting to brag about the overly shiny Junior Olympic medals I was bringing home. This should not be taken the wrong way. My dad was supporting me in the best way he could, and this is something I love about him.
I remember the day I won my first Continental Cup in Falun, Sweden, and I called home to share the news. It was still the morning in Lake Placid and we recapped all of the recent Olympic events together, including Andrew Weibrecht’s surprising silver in Sochi, before I finally had to cut him off, 20 minutes in, to announce my accomplishment. I love that he does not know how to operate the FIS website, and I love that I can always count on him for an encouraging email along the way.
Happy Father’s Day to all of the dads out there doing the best they can. We love you!
Casey Larson
I think Guy Larson has risen to be a mini-celebrity in the USA Nordic community, a lot of people know him, and I think a lot of people like him (I hope). He’s probably told you about his new bike, or the condition of the local trails, or honestly probably about the weather. What really flies under the radar is that Guy is actually my Dad, and a very good one.
USA Nordic asked me to write about one specific event that really highlights my Dad and me as a ski jumper but I don’t think there really was one. There is no story where he forced me to go to practice and that is when I found myself. The only thing Guy made sure of day in and day out was that I was having a blast. Whether that was putting me in every sport or activity I showed interest in or buying me a trampoline, my Dad just made sure I was having fun. Although that may have been a selfish act because I’ve never seen anyone happier than Guy on a trampoline.
I don’t think it was ever on my Dad’s radar that I would be going to the Olympics or getting top 30 at World Championships in the beginning, he never pushed, never forced. If I wanted to try wrestling, I’d be at the next practice. Even if the day after that stupid singlet was in the garbage. The only thing that was ever forced growing up was being outside, he still thinks cell phones are going to kill everyone and Netflix is straight from the underworld but luckily I caught the outside gene too.
Now that I don’t live in Chicago our weekly phone calls are not about training, they’re about how his latest bike ride was, and I tell him about mine, how I dislocated my shoulder. His first question when I got hurt was, “Did it look cool?”. Sorry Dad, it did not. Guy Larson is the most supportive person in my life.
We didn’t know lick about ski jumping fourteen years ago, but fast forward to 2019 and although we still know very little this sport has given us more bonding time than anyone could have ever asked for, it also gives him an excuse to go cross country skiing in the Alps every once in a while, so basically you are very welcome Dad. He loves this community so much that he still is heavily involved. You can find him at the Norge Ski Club every Tuesday and Thursday at 6:00 sharp setting the next generation of Olympians up with equipment and being their very first coach on the 5 meter. For that, not only myself, but the whole USA Nordic community owes Guy a huge thank you.
