Picabo Street Lends Iconic Gloves to Lindsey Vonn Ahead of Dramatic Downhill at Milan-Cortina
Picabo Street quietly handed a pair of weathered gloves to Lindsey Vonn at the start gate of the Olimpia delle Tofane downhill, a small gesture that turned symbolic after Vonn crashed early in her bid at the Milan-Cortina Winter Olympics. The exchange underscored a lineage in American women's alpine skiing and highlighted the raw stakes of racing at top speed.
Gloves, good luck and a dramatic finish
The gloves, marked with Street’s initials and a plum-colored sun, are better known as part of a bronze memorial honoring her career. Street had them with her at the start and offered them to Vonn as a personal show of support. Vonn chose to wear the gloves in her downhill run, but she hooked a gate and crashed just 13 seconds into the course. The gloves did not cross the finish line with her.
Street, at the course as a commentator, admitted she felt an intense reaction the night before when Vonn drew bib No. 13—an image that dredged up memories of her own Friday the 13th injury years earlier. The handoff was meant as encouragement: a veteran embracing and blessing a former protégé at one of the sport’s highest moments.
A career defined by speed, precision and survival
Street was a defining American downhill racer in the 1990s, a figure whose results and near-mythical name helped shape a generation of skiers. Her record includes multiple World Cup victories, two world titles and an Olympic gold medal. But her résumé is inseparable from a ledger of serious injuries: torn ACLs, a snapped femur and repeated knee trauma, each one dictating a long arc of recovery and reinvention.
She has spoken candidly about the calculus athletes confront when the body no longer matches the mind’s ambitions. After a comeback attempt and the slow recovery from a catastrophic crash, Street retired in 2002, acknowledging that she could no longer safely push the limits required by downhill racing. The line between courageous and reckless in alpine speed is thin; for many, the decision to stop comes when survival outweighs desire.
Street has also described what draws athletes back to those high-risk runs: the sensation of going fast, the need for constant microadjustments at 80 miles per hour, and the “magical” precision of a well-executed turn. That magnetic pull helps explain why current and former champions still gather around the sport, trading gear, advice and, occasionally, gloves.
Legacy, mentorship and the sport’s future
The moment between Street and Vonn was more than a propulsive anecdote; it was emblematic of a mentorship chain that has propelled American women in Alpine skiing from one era to the next. Vonn grew up idolizing Street, and they overlapped on the national team when one career was ending and another was beginning. Small rituals—passing on a pair of gloves, offering words at the start gate—are the connective tissue that keeps that lineage alive.
Street’s post-racing life has kept her close to the sport: she has worked in broadcast roles, helped develop young athletes through an academy, and remains outspoken about the mental and physical demands of racing. Her gesture in Milan-Cortina was, in that light, both personal and emblematic: a reminder that Alpine skiing is as much about community and shared history as it is about raw, unforgiving speed.
When elite athletes at the highest level falter or fall, those small human moments often become the clearest indicator of what the sport means to its participants—risk, camaraderie and the stubborn love of going fast.
