The Perfect Run

A story

Ben Human
The Pro Files
Published in
21 min readJun 13, 2024


Photo by Robson Hatsukami Morgan on Unsplash

I gave my lawyers instruction to publish this document after my death. God knows it will cause an outcry, because I have no interest in hiding anything anymore. It will be the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Let it be said, forever more, that Sven Persson never intended to harm anyone. I did the best any man can do. I did my best. And I was the best in the business.

The year was 2002. Humanity had survived the millennium changeover without coming to any crippling harm. The lunacy and cowardice of the attack on the Twin Towers hadn’t crushed The Cowboy’s spirit, and the latest outrage, videotaped executions sent from Pakistan to the US, didn’t look to be enough provocation to lure him into full-scale war. The Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City, Utah, was swimming in scandal and flaming rumour, but one man would transmute it into a platform for his unquestionable greatness, signalling the beginning of the end of subjective, partisan rulings in all matters athletic.

But I should start at the beginning. In 1998, at age 21, I, Sven Persson, was already my country’s greatest sportsman. I had represented Norway at one Olympics and emerged with gold in nearly all my events — nine in total.

My favourite was the giant slalom. In that, I was to be victorious in every event…