Broderick Thompson is grateful to be alive. He has also resolved to make the most of his life going forward.
Part of that means going back to his lifelong passion, despite all expectations to the contrary.
Let's not mince words here: could have killed him. It may also have paralyzed him or permanently damaged his cognitive abilities, rendering him unable to follow basic instructions or care for himself independently.
That's the frightening thing about neurological afflictions: their long-term effect upon a human being is not easily predicted or quantified.
As a two-time Olympian and veteran of the FIS World Cup circuit, Thompson is familiar with the spectre of risk looming over his every move. He's got plenty of intestinal fortitude (one must in his profession) but the previous year has shaken him in ways no other year can replicate. Nobody would question him for retiring, or for altering his lifestyle in the name of protecting his embattled brain.
Yet when Thompson speaks of his decision to return to snow——there is nary a hint of doubt in his voice.
"I believe in proof within life," said Thompson. "If I can show what's possible, having gone through a severe traumatic brain injury and recovered from it, then I'm setting a precedent for others who are going through the same thing."
'A lot of red eyes'
Thompson does not remember the crash and won't view footage of it, but knows it's one of the most violent his coaches have ever witnessed.
The Canadian national team was in Beaver Creek, Colo., training on the Birds of Prey venue for a trio of World Cup races that were ultimately not held due to adverse weather. The course has claimed other victims: Norwegian World and Olympic champ Aksel Lund Svindal broke facial bones in 2007, while Erik Arvidsson of Team USA ruptured his ACL and LCL on the same day Thompson went down.
But the Whistlerite had it worst of all.
"It rocked us," admitted Thompson's longtime friend and teammate. "The most difficult part was having very little direct information … beyond knowing that whatever happened to him was serious enough to require an immediate evacuation to Denver. It was a sombre moment for our team when we had that meeting the night after the accident.
"The coaches were there and I could see on their faces that our head coach [John Kucera] had already given them an update from the hospital. There were a lot of red eyes in the room and it just hit all of us. It feels like a rock in your stomach as you think, 'what the hell are they about to tell us?'"
Intel was scarce at first. Minor updates (that Thompson was awake, that he'd spoken a few words, that he'd been eating on his own) generated feelings of ambivalence within friends and family as they longed for confirmation of something more definitively positive.
Seger called Thompson's younger sister Tess at one point. She informed him that more than a week after the crash Thompson was still not lucid. His pain was ever-present, his speech a series of mumbled words, and on one troubling day he failed to recognize his own fiancée.
"Tess painted a little bit more realistic picture of how it actually was in that hospital room for Broderick, and I kind of broke down hearing it because that was the first time I had to face the more gruesome details of the situation," he said.
'Zero to 100'
Thompson figures he spent roughly a week in Denver before being airlifted to Vancouver General Hospital (VGH). After 10 days there, he was transferred again to the GF Strong Rehabilitation Centre—which became his home for more than two months.
"I was in a neck brace for 10 weeks. I had a lot of stiffness, broken bones and things that I had to work around as I was getting back on my feet," Thompson recounted. "But GF Strong is an amazing place. It's something we as Canadians should be very appreciative of. I think heroes work there, from the doctors and the physios to the [occupational therapists] and the psychologists."
Even as his body began to heal, Thompson's mind remained fractured. Seger saw him on Jan. 2 for the first time post-accident, at which point Thompson admitted his memory was just starting to coalesce. For weeks he was unable to accurately place the events of the previous day, and he had outright forgotten about reassuring texts sent to loved ones.
"It was this weird experience of communicating with Broderick even though he was not all there, but seeing him in person was such a relief … to find that his personality was still [intact]," Seger said. "That just took a weight off my heart."
Thompson is no foreigner to physical ailments. He tore virtually every ligament in his knee during the 2018-19 preseason, and three years later won World Cup bronze in Beaver Creek. However, trauma to the nervous system is a different ball game entirely.
"I would almost rather hurt my knee infinitely more times than hit my head this hard, which is a crazy thing to say," remarked Thompson. "Obviously I was wearing all the protection I needed, but I still was going 130 kilometres an hour on sheer ice downward. The sport is risky. I don't blame anything for it, as I chose to push out of the gate.
"But head injuries are difficult in a sense that your brain controls your life and your body, and it can be zero to 100 real quick. Not a lot of people know how you're going to recover. The darkness is a hard thing to overcome, but as progress takes place and you go through your steps to recovery, I think that's what you gauge your future on."
An expectation of healing
The Thompson family is more than acquainted with bumps and bruises sustained in the pursuit of athletic greatness.
Broderick's father Rod grew up playing hockey and baseball on the open plains of Moose Jaw, Sask., while his mother Pam spent lots of time on the soccer field and the ball diamond. Tess is a gifted figure skater.
Older sister Marielle is the most decorated member of the clan, with two Olympic ski-cross medals, and 70 World Cup medals on a resume she's not done building.
"Injuries happen and we don't expect them, but we overcome them pretty easily," Thompson said. "Everyone stays positive and knows we're going to get better. This doesn't need to be a big ordeal even though it was a big deal, right? There's an expectation of healing … it takes time, obviously."
Thompson spent much of his down time alone. Marielle had a World Cup season to race, as did his teammates. He didn't want them dwelling on his hardships, and thus he decided to be independent during rehab.
Canadians were evidently able to compartmentalize Thompson's predicament during the 2023-24 campaign. Jack Crawford, Cameron Alexander and Jeffrey Read all broke into the top 10 during a Dec. 15 super-G event in Val Gardena, Italy, with 13 days later in Bormio.
Don't be fooled by the numbers, though: it wasn't easy to perform under those auspices.
"If you just looked at the results on paper, you might not realize how everyone was affected … but in the later part of the season it was difficult to find the drive and motivation to take risks and send it again," revealed Seger.
Thompson added: "I was proud of [my team] to keep pushing. It helped that I could watch them do what I wish I was doing—which I didn't feel bad about. They're friends before teammates."
'I have always given my all'
Despite everything, Thompson has resolved to embrace risk. He's back to lifting in the gym and hitting home runs in slow-pitch baseball, but knows that strapping on his skis will require a prudent approach. His immediate goal is to enjoy the mountains with family and friends while seeing how his body responds.
Some might view Thompson as gritty, tough or even valiant, while others could be worried for his long-term health. Either way, the man has made his choice.
"There were times when people close to me in my life [assumed] I wouldn't ski again, and I don't think it was necessarily a fair assumption as they should have been like, 'what can we do to help you reach where you need to be?'" he said. "I have always given my all to sport, whether it's figure skating or baseball or skiing, so I'm excited to prove people wrong.
"Even if it's just clicking in my boots and going down the Magic Chair, that's an accomplishment."
Time will tell if Broderick Thompson has already raced his final World Cup race, but his contributions to skiing are undeniable. The Whistler native blossomed as a young pro under Canadian Cowboys like Erik Guay, Jan Hudec and Manuel Osborne-Paradis, and now at 30 years old he's the elder statesman to Seger, Crawford, Alexander, Read et al.
If nothing else: Thompson is a cornerstone of his generation. Alpine Canada recognizes this fact by naming him to
"Broderick has always been extremely dedicated, hardworking, and thoughtful," Seger said. "Even in his off time, he's thinking about what he can do to better himself. Not a lot of people successfully come back from [his knee injury], at least not to a high level in sport again.
"Our entire team just wants to do whatever we can to support him in this entire journey, through the Canadian Sport Institute and all the resources available to a national team. We want to put everything behind one of our own. Broderick has always been a leader on our team—an incredible example to younger athletes. I would want him to feel very proud of what he has done."
On Dec. 1, Thompson posted His caption reads: "Not much to say." His actions continue to do all the talking.
