Eddie the Eagle: I went from sleeping in barns to staying in five-star hotels
Decades after he tumbled into the world’s affections as a lovable outsider at the Winter Olympics, Eddie "the Eagle" Edwards is still leaping off the largest hills he can find. The former plasterer turned ski‑jumping cult figure talks endurance, showbusiness detours and a new role helping to revive Winter Games memories for a modern audience.
From humble beginnings to global recognition
Edwards’ rise was never conventional. Once sleeping in barns while chasing ski hills across Europe, he went on to capture the public imagination with a mixture of courage, calamity and charisma. His flights in Calgary became iconic not for their length but for the spirit they embodied — a determined, awkward joy that made him more memorable than many medal winners.
Still jumping at 62 — and pushing himself
Age has not dulled his appetite for risk. He recently tackled 60‑metre and 90‑metre hills while visiting a French resort, saying the ‘‘muscle memory’’ of decades of jumping helps him cope with the impact. He claims he’s in as good a shape as when he competed in Calgary, performs energetic dance routines and even fits into his Olympic uniform. His long‑term goal remains playfully ambitious: to ski a black run on his 100th birthday.
Showbusiness detours and enduring affection
Fame brought unlikely encounters. At the height of his notoriety he found himself mingling with Hollywood names and accepting invitations that led to unforgettable nights. More recently, he took to the stage in a pantomime, playing a character named Professor Crackpot in a local production. The theatrical detour underscores how Edwards has translated Olympic oddity into a career of public appearances, TV stints and warm crowd reactions.
Iconic moments remain part of the legacy
His jumps in Calgary — British records of 71m and 67m at the time — remain part of ski‑jumping lore, even if they were well behind the field. The value of his story hasn’t been measured in podiums but in persistence: crashes, pratfalls and comic mishaps that somehow enhanced his reputation rather than diminished it. Fans still remember the man who walked into a glass door upon arrival in Canada and the showgirls who dubbed themselves the Eaglettes when they joined him onstage.
A modern role: curating Olympic nostalgia
Edwards has lent his name and presence to a new Winter Olympics retrospective campaign run by a digital magazine platform. The initiative packages archival coverage and memorable features about past Games moments — from figure‑skating triumphs to the unlikely heroes who captured public affection — timed to coincide with the current Winter Olympics in Italy. The campaign taps into the powerful pull of nostalgia and positions Edwards once more as a living link to a bygone moment that still resonates.
Looking forward while honouring the past
For Edwards, the past and present sit comfortably together. He can swap stories of television green rooms and international tours for accounts of current jumps and local stage shows without missing a beat. Forty years on, he remains a reminder that Olympic legend can be made from personality and perseverance as much as from medals. If his ambitions are anything to go by, the next decades will bring more jumps, more performances and perhaps another headline‑making stunt or two.
