Grand Prix Hat Trick: Malinin Wins Third Straight Final In 2025

Well, well, well. Another Grand Prix season has wrapped up. And guess who’s at the top of the podium again? If you guessed Ilia Malinin, you get a gold star. And maybe a free ice cream. Because seriously, it’s becoming a little… predictable, isn't it?

I mean, our boy Malinin just snagged his third straight Grand Prix Final title in 2025. Three. In. A. Row. It’s like he’s got a permanent parking spot in the winner’s circle. And I’m not complaining, not really. It’s just… fascinatingly dominant.

Remember last year? And the year before that? It was the same story. Malinin skates, Malinin flips, Malinin lands things that make your jaw drop, and Malinin wins. It’s like watching a superhero movie where you already know who the good guy is. Exciting, sure, but where’s the nail-biting tension? Where’s the "oh my gosh, what if he falls?!" moment?

My unpopular opinion? Sometimes, just sometimes, I kind of miss the chaos. I miss the days when the Grand Prix Final felt like a frantic scramble for the top spot. A glittering, glorious mess where you had no idea who would emerge victorious until the very last skater stepped off the ice. Now, it’s more like a royal coronation. And Ilia is the reigning monarch.

He’s just so… good. Effortlessly, ridiculously good. He’s out there doing quad axels like they’re mere triple salchows. You watch him and think, "Is this real life?" His programs are packed with difficulty, and then he just… executes them. While most skaters are worrying about landing one quad, Malinin is thinking about how many quads he can fit into his free skate. It’s like he’s playing chess and everyone else is playing checkers. And he’s a grandmaster.

And it’s not just about the jumps, though let’s be honest, those are pretty spectacular. His artistry is evolving too. He’s starting to connect with the music in a way that’s genuinely moving. He’s not just a jumping machine; he’s becoming a complete package. Which, of course, makes his dominance even more pronounced. There’s no "well, he’s a great jumper but…" anymore. It’s just… "wow."

So, what does this mean for the sport? For the other skaters? It’s got to be a little intimidating, right? Imagine training your heart out, perfecting those quads, putting together stunning routines, only to know that Ilia Malinin is probably going to do it all better. It’s like showing up to a spelling bee after discovering someone has a photographic memory for the dictionary. You can try your best, but the odds are… stacked.

I’m picturing the locker room after the competition. The other skaters are congratulating him, probably with a hint of awe and maybe a touch of exasperation. “Good job, Ilia. Again.” You can almost hear the unspoken addendum: “When are you going to take a break?”

But that’s the thing about athletes like Malinin. They don’t take breaks. They push boundaries. They redefine what’s possible. And maybe, just maybe, my desire for a bit more unpredictability is selfish. Maybe I should just be grateful to witness such extraordinary talent on display. To see someone achieve a level of mastery that few in the history of the sport have ever reached.

It’s like watching a legendary musician play the same hit song for the millionth time. Is it still brilliant? Yes. Does it still give you chills? Absolutely. But you also remember the thrill of hearing it for the first time, the raw energy of a brand-new masterpiece. Malinin’s skating is that masterpiece, but he’s playing it with such virtuosity now that it’s become its own kind of magic.

So, here’s to Ilia Malinin, the king of the Grand Prix Final. The three-time, and counting, champion. May his reign be long and spectacular, even if it means I have to find new ways to feign surprise. Or maybe I'll just embrace the certainty. Because in a world that’s constantly changing, it’s kind of comforting to know that, at the Grand Prix Final, Ilia Malinin will probably be on top. And that, in its own way, is pretty entertaining.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t decide to start juggling during his routines next year. That might actually throw me for a loop. Until then, pass the popcorn. It’s Malinin time. Again.

Honestly, my biggest fear is that he’ll start doing triple somersaults on the way to the podium.