There’s a confessed cheater in the Winter Olympics. And it’s not a skier injecting steroids between his toes, or a Lycra-clad luger sabotaging his competitor’s blades. No, it’s the bronze-winning Norwegian biathlete Sturla Holm Laegreid, who stepped out on his girlfriend. And we know this because he told the whole world … live, on the news. Laegreid had presumably been training most of his life for the moment he mounted that podium in Cortina, but rather than thank his parents, or his coach, or God for gifting him with Olympic-medal-worthy thighs, he declared that, for him, this wasn’t a time for celebration, like everyone assumed, but rather “the worst week of my life.”
“There’s someone I wanted to share this with who might not be watching today. Six months ago, I met the love of my life and the most beautiful and kindest person in the world. And three months ago I made my biggest mistake and cheated on her,” the 28-year-old told cameras between gushing tears. So, while he now had a bronze medal, it was nothing compared to the “gold medal in [his] life,” which he lost a week ago, when he confessed to his girlfriend. Laegreid presumably shared this personal news in the hopes that it would serve as a form of public humiliation and let the lucky lady know how sorry he was. “I am already hated by her, and I hope that maybe it can make her realize how much I love her,” he said. “We’ll see what happens. I have nothing to lose.”
Not since the French pole-vaulter Anthony Ammirati knocked over the crossbar with his large appendage have an Olympian’s accolades been so completely overshadowed by the actions of his wandering penis. Laegreid’s public apology seems like the far-fetched last resort of a desperate man, yet, if history is anything to go by, there’s a very real chance it’ll yield positive results. With celebrity couples, we’ve seen time and time again that a “sorry” in front of the world is ultimately what it takes to gain forgiveness.
Perhaps the most famous example is Bill Clinton, who, while president, had an extramarital affair with Monica Lewinsky, a White House intern at the time. While Clinton originally denied the allegations—what does “sexual relations” mean to you?—he eventually apologized in a public address to the nation, citing a “critical lapse in judgment and a personal failure on my part for which I am solely and completely responsible,” and adding, “I must put it right, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to do so.” Hillary Clinton stood by his side throughout the scandal, and still does.
While engaged to Sienna Miller, meanwhile, Jude Law had an affair with his children’s nanny, after which he took to national TV to “publicly apologize to Sienna and our respective families for the pain that I have caused.” The act did cause them to break up, but they eventually reconciled (before separating for good).
David Letterman owned up to sleeping with several members of his staff—following a $2 million blackmail attempt—where he apologized to his employees and his wife, saying, “If you hurt a person and it’s your responsibility, you try to fix it.” He’s still married. And despite cheating on his pregnant wife, Kevin Hart redeemed himself with an apology video that is still live on his Instagram account, where he talks about his “bad error in judgment.”
Not since the French pole-vaulter Anthony Ammirati knocked over the crossbar with his large appendage have an Olympian’s accolades been so completely overshadowed by the actions of his wandering penis.
The crucial difference with all those public celebrity apologies was that their dirty business had already been aired. They were blackmailed, or had mistresses go public, or were caught on 4K video. I’m sure if they’d had the choice, the betrayed women would all have preferred private affairs with private apologies.
So maybe the Olympian really was just trying to do the right thing, but I don’t believe he was thinking about his girlfriend at the crucial moment it mattered most. He wanted a quick fix for his pain. But it’s not like he’d been trying to win her back for months—he’d not spent real effort showing her he was sorry; he’d not given her the space to process the betrayal … It had been a single week of her life since he told her. She likely hadn’t even had time to finish a pint of ice cream on the couch while watching Bridget Jones’s Diary, or do Jägerbombs in a grimy bar and enjoy a revenge shag.
So far, the public apology hasn’t worked; on Wednesday, the girlfriend told a Norwegian outlet that Laegreid’s actions would be “hard to forgive, even after a declaration of love in front of the whole world.” The worst thing about cheating isn’t the act itself but the broken trust—that’s what really spells the death of a relationship. And I’m sorry to hit the Olympian while he’s down, but how can she trust you not to do it again when she can’t even trust you not to embarrass her on the evening news? New York magazine’s The Cut suggested giving Laegreid a gold medal for “having the audacity.” But if I were the girl, I’d forget about her bronze ex and sleep with the man who won gold.
Flora Gill is a London-based writer