Their refusal to attend the State of the Union was not a protest, but a quiet assertion of who they are. Between classes, careers, and the relentless grind that built a gold‑medal team, the players chose to honor the commitments that existed long before any cameras turned their way. They answered the invitation with gratitude, then returned to the routines that made their victory possible.
Around them, the noise swelled: dissected locker‑room comments, partisan reactions, and a second, flashier offer from Las Vegas promising a “real celebration.” Yet the core of the story never moved. On international ice, under immense pressure, they delivered again—another medal, another chapter in a dynasty. Long after the debates fade and the party lights dim, the enduring image will be their triumph in Milan: a team defined less by who applauded them, and more by how completely they earned it.
