At 83 years old, John Irving is experiencing the 2026 Winter Olympics in a way few can imagine: as a celebrated literary icon, a proud grandfather, and a man whose legacy now echoes on the world’s biggest sporting stage. From his home office in Toronto, and with a brief stop in Vancouver to speak at the Jewish Book Festival, Irving is following the Olympic journeys of his grandchildren, Birk and Svea Irving, as they compete in the freeski halfpipe events in Livigno, Italy. The convergence of family pride, professional obligation, and the limitations of age and health has created a remarkable story—one that bridges generations, disciplines, and continents.
Birk and Svea Irving, a brother-sister duo, are not just representing the United States in the halfpipe; they are carrying forward a family tradition of ambition, discipline, and achievement. Their grandfather, author of classics like “The World According to Garp” and “The Cider House Rules,” has been a constant presence in their lives, even from afar. Despite asthma and travel constraints that keep him from the Italian Alps, Irving is determined not to miss a moment of his grandchildren’s Olympic journey. “Finlay will keep me connected to what’s happening in Livigno,” he says, referencing his tech-savvy assistant who will stream the events for him while he fulfills his speaking duties in Vancouver.
The qualifying rounds for the men’s and women’s freeski halfpipe began on Thursday, February 19, 2026. Birk took to the pipe at 1:30 a.m. local time in Vancouver, and Svea followed at 10:30 a.m. The finals are set for Friday and Saturday, with Birk aiming to improve on his fifth-place finish from the 2022 Olympics and Svea having already advanced to the women’s final. Both siblings have carved their own paths in the sport, with Birk medaling at the 2016 Winter Youth Olympics and Svea earning honors at the 2017 World Junior Championships. Their journey has been anything but easy—Svea, in particular, has battled a knee injury throughout the year, but her determination has propelled her into the Olympic final.
Irving’s role as a grandfather is anything but ordinary. His messages to Birk and Svea are legendary among the family—long, grammatically impeccable, and filled with concrete nouns and spirited adjectives. As Birk puts it, “Complete paragraphs, all spaced out. Grammatically, the best text messages you’ve ever seen.” In a recent email, Irving wrote, “Everything you’ve accomplished is a product of ambition and focus colliding into a perfect storm of realized talent. You should be proud of that, and I wish I could be in Italy to see you compete.” According to Birk, these messages are more than encouragement—they’re a testament to the unique bond between grandfather and grandchildren, and a reminder of the discipline that underpins both writing and sport.
Discipline, in fact, is a recurring theme in the Irving family. John Irving himself once dreamed of being an Olympic wrestler, a pursuit that shaped his worldview and writing ethic. “If you’re a writer, what excuse do you have to stop?” he says, emphasizing the relentless nature of both crafts. He wrestled collegiately at the University of Pittsburgh and the University of Iowa, instilling a love of effort and achievement in his children and grandchildren. Two of his sons followed him onto the wrestling mat, but it was Brendan—Birk and Svea’s father—who found his calling on the ski slopes of Colorado. Together with his wife Stephanie, a former Alpine skier, Brendan raised Birk and Svea in Winter Park, Colorado, where the siblings fell in love with the halfpipe and never looked back.
The Irving family story is one of perseverance and adaptation. Brendan’s career as a ski patroller and Stephanie’s teaching job allowed Birk and Svea to grow up in what their grandfather describes as “some sort of winter sports Disneyland.” But the siblings didn’t take their opportunities for granted. “They always had it,” John Irving says. “They were willing to block out all the distractions and do it again and again and again. Repetition. I’ve always thought that, if nothing else, writing and rewriting is a dedication to a repetitive process. Any craft, any sport—the more you repeat it, the better you get at it. But you have to do it.”
That relentless repetition and focus have brought Birk and Svea to the Olympic stage, where their names will be announced not once, but twice—an unprecedented moment for the Irving family. As John Irving reflects on his own upbringing, he recalls the transformative power of sport and the support of his stepfather, Colin Irving, whose name he adopted at the age of six. Now, nearly eight decades later, the Irving name is synonymous with both literary achievement and athletic excellence.
For John Irving, watching his grandchildren compete is both exhilarating and nerve-wracking. “To be honest with you, whether I’m watching them on TV or on a live stream, or if I’m there on the ground freezing to death, I’m terrified of the halfpipe,” he admits. “It is a level of risk in skiing that I am not accustomed to. It would never occur to me to go into a halfpipe.” His awe is matched only by his pride in their accomplishments and character. “I remain astonished by them,” he says. “By their sweet dispositions, and the level of friendly normalcy they’ve always had, knowing, as I do—and I say this in a positive sense—their fanatical desire to always be training, to always wanting to compete and improve.”
The 2026 Winter Olympics are still unfolding, with the men’s and women’s freeski halfpipe finals set to capture the world’s attention. Whether Birk can improve on his previous Olympic result or Svea can overcome her injuries to reach the podium remains to be seen. For now, the focus is on the journey—the years of dedication, the sacrifices, and the joy of sharing the moment with family, even from thousands of miles away.
As John Irving continues to write each day, balancing festival appearances with late-night live streams, he finds himself in a unique position: both a participant in his family’s story and its chronicler. The outcome of the competitions may be uncertain, but the legacy of discipline, love, and achievement is already secure. And for one legendary author, the chance to cheer for his grandchildren—no matter where he is—remains the greatest gift of all.