HOW A KID FROM GREECE TURNED SETBACKS INTO COMEBACKS ON THE PATH OF OLYMPIC DREAMS

HOW A KID FROM GREECE TURNED SETBACKS INTO COMEBACKS ON THE PATH OF OLYMPIC DREAMS

Words by AJ Ginnis // US Ski Team images provided by Max Hall // October 7, 2025

Words by AJ Ginnis

US Ski Team images provided by Max Hall

October 7, 2025

From a seaside town in Greece to the icy slopes of the world’s biggest stage, AJ's path to the Olympics has been anything but straight. What began as weekend ski trips with his family turned into a lifelong pursuit of speed, resilience, and belonging. This is the story of how “the Greek” went from chasing turns on Mount Parnassos to carrying his nation’s torch into the Olympic season.

From a seaside town in Greece to the icy slopes of the world’s biggest stage, AJ's path to the Olympics has been anything but straight. What began as weekend ski trips with his family turned into a lifelong pursuit of speed, resilience, and belonging. This is the story of how “the Greek” went from chasing turns on Mount Parnassos to carrying his nation’s torch into the Olympic season.

I don’t think I was ever meant to be a skier, but here we are.

I was born in Vouliagmeni, a small coastal town south of Athens. My mom is a dentist, and my dad ran a ski school and shop in Arachova, a mountain village near Mount Parnassos, right next to the ancient site of Delphi where the Oracle once spoke her prophecies. My brother eventually followed in my mom’s footsteps and became a dentist himself, but our family was always about balance: hard work, and sport—and skiing fit perfectly into that mix.

Our weekends were spent driving up to the mountains, skiing as a family, and spending nights in a small cabin with a crackling fireplace. Skiing wasn’t just a sport to us; it was part of our family rhythm.

As a kid, I did every sport imaginable. But when I was 13, skiing slowly became the one I couldn’t stop thinking about. My dad and I started spending winters in Austria, and that’s where it really began. I wasn’t good at first. The locals called me “Der Grieche,” which means “the Greek,” and at that time getting beaten by “the Greek” wasn’t great. That nickname stuck, but it also fueled me. I loved the challenge of getting better, finding faster lines, and proving to myself that I belonged.

I don’t think I was ever meant to be a skier, but here we are.

I was born in Vouliagmeni, a small coastal town south of Athens. My mom is a dentist, and my dad ran a ski school and shop in Arachova, a mountain village near Mount Parnassos, right next to the ancient site of Delphi where the Oracle once spoke her prophecies. My brother eventually followed in my mom’s footsteps and became a dentist himself, but our family was always about balance: hard work, and sport—and skiing fit perfectly into that mix.

Our weekends were spent driving up to the mountains, skiing as a family, and spending nights in a small cabin with a crackling fireplace. Skiing wasn’t just a sport to us; it was part of our family rhythm.

As a kid, I did every sport imaginable. But when I was 13, skiing slowly became the one I couldn’t stop thinking about. My dad and I started spending winters in Austria, and that’s where it really began. I wasn’t good at first. The locals called me “Der Grieche,” which means “the Greek,” and at that time getting beaten by “the Greek” wasn’t great. That nickname stuck, but it also fueled me. I loved the challenge of getting better, finding faster lines, and proving to myself that I belonged.

Year by year, things started to click. My parents realized I might have a future in skiing, so we took another leap and moved again, this time to the United States. I attended the Green Mountain Valley School in Vermont, and at 17, I earned a spot on the U.S. Ski Team and was accepted to Dartmouth College. It was surreal. Coming from Greece, making the US national team was never something I thought possible.

But sport has a way of testing you. I’ve faced more than my fair share of setbacks, from losing my dad to suicide to undergoing seven knee surgeries. There’s no playbook for that. What I learned through it all is that life isn’t fair, but you owe it to yourself to make the most of every situation.

After eight years with the U.S. Ski Team, I was cut when I was 24 years old. At the time, it felt like the end. Looking back, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. In 2020, with the support of close friends and sponsors, I decided to represent Greece, the country where it all began. We were just a small team, three friends and a dream, but we believed we could compete with the best.

Year by year, things started to click. My parents realized I might have a future in skiing, so we took another leap and moved again, this time to the United States. I attended the Green Mountain Valley School in Vermont, and at 17, I earned a spot on the U.S. Ski Team and was accepted to Dartmouth College. It was surreal. Coming from Greece, making the US national team was never something I thought possible.

But sport has a way of testing you. I’ve faced more than my fair share of setbacks, from losing my dad to suicide to undergoing seven knee surgeries. There’s no playbook for that. What I learned through it all is that life isn’t fair, but you owe it to yourself to make the most of every situation.

After eight years with the U.S. Ski Team, I was cut when I was 24 years old. At the time, it felt like the end. Looking back, it was the best thing that ever happened to me. In 2020, with the support of close friends and sponsors, I decided to represent Greece, the country where it all began. We were just a small team, three friends and a dream, but we believed we could compete with the best.

That first year we surprised people, posting some fast splits and finishing 11th in the Flachau World Cup slalom. In my second season, which happened to be the Olympic year, I tore my ACL in August. It was heartbreaking, but I finished my degree at Dartmouth and came back stronger.

Then came 2023, the year everything changed. In Chamonix, my coach’s hometown, I finished second in the World Cup slalom, earning Greece’s first-ever World Cup podium. Two weeks later, I won a silver medal at the World Championships. A week after that, I nearly took the win at Palisades Tahoe, right in the U.S. team’s backyard. I wanted that one badly, but it reminded me that sometimes the journey itself is the reward.

Last season brought another challenge. While front-squatting in the gym, a bone spur broke off in my knee. Doctors decided to remove all the excess bone that had built up over the years from previous surgeries. It wasn’t exactly the news I wanted, but I accepted it, focused on rehab, and set my sights on what’s next.

That first year we surprised people, posting some fast splits and finishing 11th in the Flachau World Cup slalom. In my second season, which happened to be the Olympic year, I tore my ACL in August. It was heartbreaking, but I finished my degree at Dartmouth and came back stronger.

Then came 2023, the year everything changed. In Chamonix, my coach’s hometown, I finished second in the World Cup slalom, earning Greece’s first-ever World Cup podium. Two weeks later, I won a silver medal at the World Championships. A week after that, I nearly took the win at Palisades Tahoe, right in the U.S. team’s backyard. I wanted that one badly, but it reminded me that sometimes the journey itself is the reward.

Last season brought another challenge. While front-squatting in the gym, a bone spur broke off in my knee. Doctors decided to remove all the excess bone that had built up over the years from previous surgeries. It wasn’t exactly the news I wanted, but I accepted it, focused on rehab, and set my sights on what’s next.

Now, with a new setup on Van Deer skis and my eyes fixed on the upcoming Olympic season, I feel more motivated than ever.

Growing up in Greece, the Olympics were the ultimate dream. Not just for what they represent today, but for what they stood for in ancient times. The Games were a celebration of human excellence, unity, and respect. A time when city-states at war would call a truce so athletes could compete under the same sky. Competing for Greece now feels like carrying that legacy forward.

To top it off, I’ll have the honor of being the first torchbearer to begin the Olympic torch relay. From “Der Grieche” on the Austrian slopes to representing Greece on the world stage, it’s been an incredible ride and it’s only just beginning.

Now, with a new setup on Van Deer skis and my eyes fixed on the upcoming Olympic season, I feel more motivated than ever.

Growing up in Greece, the Olympics were the ultimate dream. Not just for what they represent today, but for what they stood for in ancient times. The Games were a celebration of human excellence, unity, and respect. A time when city-states at war would call a truce so athletes could compete under the same sky. Competing for Greece now feels like carrying that legacy forward.

To top it off, I’ll have the honor of being the first torchbearer to begin the Olympic torch relay. From “Der Grieche” on the Austrian slopes to representing Greece on the world stage, it’s been an incredible ride and it’s only just beginning.