ST. LOUIS — If only his parents could see him now.
The resilience they planted in him on display, forced by tragedy to blossom. The belief they bequeathed to him, every ounce of which he needed. The passion they poured into him, which he spilled onto the ice Thursday night.
Maxim Naumov ended his short program on his knees, panting rapidly, hands falling limp on either side. Having burned all the adrenaline and emotion and energy for two minutes, 46 seconds, he let the standing ovation inside Enterprise Center serenade him. The fans treated his wounds with their empathy.
It was love holding him upright during his first performance in the 2026 U.S. Figure Skating Championships. It was love lifting him on his jumps, whisking him on his spins, pulling and pushing him around the ice. The same love that buckles him in those moments when the weight of his loss gets too heavy.
It’s been nearly a year since his parents, Evgenia Shishkova and Vadim Naumov, died in a plane crash that this sport will never forget. U.S. Figure Skating holds a National Development Camp after its annual championships. Last January, the camp was held in Wichita, Kan. The Skating Club of Boston sent a contingent that included Naumov’s parents, the 1994 world champs in pairs for Russia who became coaches in Norwood, Mass. The couple died with 65 other passengers — including figure skaters Spencer Lane and Jinna Han, and their mothers — on Jan. 29, 2025, when an American Airlines flight collided with a Black Hawk helicopter, carrying three soldiers, over the Potomac River in Washington, D.C.
And, 344 days later, their son emptied himself for a spot in the Olympics. With the hole in his soul still gaping, and plenty of tears still to shed, and every reason to walk away, he honored his parents and their legacy. By being their legacy.
“It crossed my mind ever since the beginning of the season,” Naumov, 24, said of making it to Milan. “It’s the ultimate goal. My parents and I, one of our last conversations was exactly about that. It would mean the absolute world to do so. It’s exactly what we’re fighting for. … That is what I think about first thing in the morning and when I shut my eyes.”
Naumov sits in fourth place after Thursday’s short program, hoping to carry his tribute to his parents all the way to next month’s Olympics in Milan. (Jamie Squire / Getty Images)
A third spot on the U.S. men’s singles team is up for grabs, behind Ilia Malinin and, presumably, Jason Brown. Selections will be announced Sunday.
Naumov — who finished fourth in each of the last three U.S. Championships — sits in fourth heading into Saturday’s free skate. His short program score of 85.72 wasn’t near his personal best. It wasn’t a flawless skate. He did step out of his quadruple Salchow jump.
But he landed his triple axel, and his triple Lutz-triple toe loop combo. And his spins were on the level.
And his step sequence delivered a tangible despair to the wails of Sarah Chang’s violin over the haunting piano in “Nocturne No. 20” by Frédéric Chopin.
“That was so incredible,” said Malinin, who ran away from the field with a 115.10, giving him a 25.84-point lead after the short program. “So powerful, so strong of him.”
Perhaps the awe of him doing this, how he’s doing this, should be enough to warrant a spot. If Naumov rises to the occasion on his free skate, under these circumstances, perhaps it proves he can handle the grandest stage of them all, the Winter Olympics.
Maybe he should be chosen for Milan because the Skating Club of Boston should make it. Because Jinna Han and Spencer Lane never will.
Maybe he’s earned a spot on the team with the price he’s paid. For the way he’s shown up this season, even while bearing the burden of this tragedy and coaching young skaters formerly under his parents’ tutelage in his free time.
The ice should be Naumov’s sanctuary. Instead, now, and maybe forever, on it he experiences the simultaneity of refuge and trauma. Thursday night, he skated to escape the hurt. Thursday night, he skated to connect with his parents.
How does his context count on the score sheet? To everyone watching, he earned a plus-5 Grade of Execution for making his late parents proud. To everyone in attendance, this felt like a top-level channeling of the human spirit’s perseverance.
“Well,” Naumov said, imagining his parents’ message to him after his performance, “my dad would say, ‘You’ve got to be a little more confident on the (Salchow),’ I think. And he’d say he’s proud and we’ll keep fighting. Keep fighting to Milan. And to not give up. So, that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”
His mom never watched him live. Not since he was about 13. But not long after leaving the ice, he surely would’ve been on the phone with her.
“And she’d be saying, ‘It’s ok. Good job,’” he said. “We already forgot about it. We’re thinking about the free (skate) already.”
After Naumov’s skate, Tomoki Hiwatashi rocked out to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Free Bird,” his energy spreading through the arena. He sits in second place with a score of 89.26, an emphatic opening declaration of his worthiness for Milan for the 25-year-old.
Brown, the beloved technician trying to make his third Olympics, seemed to crack the door for another to encroach on his No. 2 spot. The 31-year-old’s triple axel was a quarter rotation short. He stumbled on the latter part of his triple Lutz-triple toe loop, touching the ice with his hand. His 88.49 score dropped him to third.
Andrew Torgashev didn’t do his case any favors, falling on his quad toe loop. His score of 84.99 puts him in fifth place.
An opening for Naumov.
“I’ve found that in times of really difficult emotional stress,” he said, “if you can push yourself just a little bit more and almost think, ‘What if? What if I can do it? What if despite everything that happened to me, I can still go out there and do it?’ And that’s where you find strength. And that’s where you grow as a person.”
When his skate ended, and he made his way to the couch to await his score, he suddenly flashed a photo of him with his parents. In it, he’s 2 years old. His father is holding his right hand while his left is in the grip of his mother. The family of three smiled for the photo taken at the International Skating Center of Connecticut. He wore white skates because they didn’t have black skates for such little feet. It was Naumov’s first time on the ice.
He held the photo so the camera could see it while he waited for his score. When he learned he did well enough to take over first place at the time, he could no longer fight off the tears.
If only his parents could see him now.
He flipped the photo back around and kissed it. He pressed their grainy faces against his lips long enough to feel their warmth. Then with tears in his eyes, he looked up through the roof of the Enterprise Center and told them. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“I’m just thinking about them,” he said of that moment. “Their smile. Their laugh. What they’d say to me. Their words. It all replays in my head, especially at times like this. I love them.”
At least he can still see them.
