MILAN — If mudslinging ever becomes an Olympic sport, the United States will certainly win gold, silver and bronze.

The vitriol has gone viral in a media-fueled debate about what it means for an athlete to be a true American patriot at the Winter Games.

Pressed for his nonsports opinions, a 23-year-old skier from Winter Park (pop. 1,192) became caught in the crossfire with a video clip that has been viewed more than three million times.

“It’s definitely a tough time in our country right now,” Svea Irving said Friday, only hours before American athletes wore the red, white and blue at the opening ceremony.

“I think I just continue to represent my values, which is compassion and respect and love for others. And also to represent my community at home, and those who have given us the opportunities to be here. It’s a very special experience.”

Her simple 17-second, 54-word message of peace, love and gratitude quickly turned Irving into a pawn deployed by outrage peddlers in the culture wars being fought with all-caps anger on the internet.

It’s worth noting the divisions that plague the country today plagued the U.S. four years ago — and in previous international events. Yet the athletes had not been subjected to the same level of test, as they have been now.

One thing’s certain: The response was cray-cray to what Irving had to say.

And I should know, because I was in the room where it happened.

Shortly after 10 a.m. on the official Day 1 of the Games, Irving and seven teammates from U.S. freestyle skiing entered a large auditorium in Milan’s convention center to meet the press.

They came to talk about sports, not preach. Yet they were asked a question that had nothing to do with sports.

The eight athletes seated on the dais nearly outnumbered the ink-stained wretches in their audience.

I was among the tiny handful of wretches, happy to monopolize the microphone during what often felt more like a casual conversation than a formal press conference.

But I didn’t ask what has become a perfunctory question of U.S. athletes at the Olympics in 2026: What’s it mean to wear the Team USA uniform and the American flag in the hope of unifying the country?

All eight skiers put thought into their answers. None spoke with anger. Hunter Hess, a 27-year-old Oregon native, gave the most deeply emotive response.

“It brings out mixed emotions to represent the U.S. right now …  It’s a little hard. There’s obviously a lot going on that I’m not the biggest fan of, and I think a lot of people aren’t,” Hess said.

“I’m representing my friends and family back home, the people that represented (the country) before me, all the things that I believe are good about the U.S. I just think if it aligns with my moral values, I feel like I’m representing it. Just because I’m wearing the flag, doesn’t mean I represent everything that’s going on.”  

Once President Donald Trump caught wind of those comments, he took offense and clapped back.

“U.S. Olympic Skier, Hunter Hess, a real Loser, says he doesn’t represent his Country in the current Winter Olympics,” Trump posted Sunday on his Truth Social site. “If that’s the case, he shouldn’t have tried out for the Team, and it’s too bad he’s on it. Very hard to root for someone like this.”

As an eyewitness to 14 Olympics, lucky enough to cover the Games from Russia to Rio and Atlanta to Italy, there’s one thing I believe with all my heart: No sporting event in the world sees more American athletes give their blood, sweat and tears for the pure love of country.

That’s to be applauded. By all of us.

But even a knucklehead like me is smart enough to also realize that once athletes pull on the colors of their home team, whether that team is a pro football franchise or the USA Olympic squad, a large number of paying customers would strongly prefer them to represent the name on the front of the uniform and save their personal political views for another day.

“I’m really proud to represent the United States. The U.S. has given my family and I so much opportunity,” snowboarder Chloe Kim said Monday. She’s a two-time gold medalist and the daughter of legal immigrants from South Korea. 

“But I also think that I — we — are allowed to voice our opinions about what’s going on. And I think that we need to lead with love and compassion. And I would love to see more of that.”

Speaking your mind is as American as apple pie, and I admire any athlete who cares deeply about more important things in this world than sports.

But this much I also know is true: The closer it is to game time, the less a sporting audience is likely to be open to hearing any idea more serious than grabbing a beer.

From the ski hill to the swimming pool, there’s a great Olympic tradition of clanging cowbells.

The Winter Games need to take a chill pill.

Less politics — and interrogations that weren’t present at the 2022 Beijing Games, with political division and a different party in office.

More cowbell.