With four wins in two styles, Jens Weißflog is Germany’s tour hero. Only Janne Ahonen won again. Here the 61-year-old looks back on his last triumph 30 years ago – on frustration, fear and relief, on James Bond and being weighed down in cheese. He is proud of his daughter today.
The café employee in Frankfurt an der Oder looks curious: “Aren’t you…?” Jens Weißflog smiles. “Yes that’s me.” The former ski jumping hero is now 61 and the employee is about half that age. She may not have even been born when Weißflog celebrated his fourth triumph at the Four Hills Tournament in 1996. It was a success that seemed miles away before the tour started. “Maybe she knows me as a TV expert from afterwards,” says the Olympic champion. But perhaps also because he is the most successful German ski jumper in history, a legend.
Weißflog has won almost everything the ski jumping world has to offer: three Olympic gold medals, twice alone and once with the team (1984 and 1994), World Cup titles (1985 and 1989), the Four Hills Tournament (four times between 1984 and 1996) and the overall World Cup (1983/84). Only at the Ski Flying World Championships was it not quite enough to win, but it was enough for silver and bronze. He ended his career in 1996.
WORLD ON SUNDAY: Mr. Weißflog, what would happen if you jumped today?
Jens Weißflog: I don’t know if I could get to the take-off table. When I sit up there during my ski jump tours in Oberwiesenthal, I sometimes slide back and forth on the beam and invite people to sit there and get a feel. This is frightening for many. Sitting there isn’t a problem for me, but I often imagine what it would be like if I had skis on my feet and had to ski down. I think I would be scared to death. It’s been too long. The processes may still be in my head, but the forces at work… no.
WAMS: Let’s go to Christmas time 1995, before their last tour. The season was modest.
Whitefly: It drove me crazy that it didn’t work. The only solution we had in mind was that other material could help. That’s why I even jumped in Oberwiesenthal on the morning of Christmas Eve and tested, but I was so bad that I thought: “I don’t actually need to go to the tour.” Shortly before the tour there was a World Cup in Oberhof. I had previously been knocked out of the top 15 in the overall World Cup, so I had to qualify – an absolutely new situation for me. Of course that caused excitement. I don’t believe in God, but there was a situation in which at least the ski jumping god was on my side.
WAMS: Tell.
Whitefly: On the approach to qualifying I thought I would only get to 100 meters; I would have been out of there. But suddenly, just before the ground, I got a gust of wind that carried me to 110 meters – so I qualified. I surprisingly came third in the competition. Everything wasn’t suddenly good, but better. A second psychological thing came into play: My wife at the time said before jumping in Oberhof: “You’ve done everything, trained until Christmas, but you can’t influence it at the moment. If it’s your last year, then say goodbye to the jump and put a good face on the bad game. The spectator can’t help it, give autographs, even if it’s difficult.”
WAMS: Did that kind of flip a switch for you?
Whitefly: That’s how you can say it. I thought, “Right, screw it. You want to quit anyway.”
WAMS: Nevertheless, it was a restless night before the start of the tour.
Whitefly: Very restless. I had a gastrointestinal infection and spent the night on the toilet. But that certainly helped me approach the matter in a somewhat relaxed manner because I wasn’t expecting anything. I had previously made it official that I would be retiring after this season. It was even featured on the “Tagesschau” back then.
WAMS: Didn’t that put even more pressure on yourself? Because it was clear that this was the last chance for your fourth tour victory.
Whitefly: Maybe subconsciously, but I never went to the tour thinking that I really wanted to win. Something like that always comes out of the situation. When I was in shape, my goal was of course the podium. But if you’re knocked out of the top 15, you’re not in a position to win at all. That was far away. One of the crucial things about that tour was that I went to the hill with absolutely no expectations. I didn’t really care about anything. Psychologists would be happy to explain this. Until just before you jump like an egg – and then you’re on the podium. Oberhof was certainly the breakthrough.
WAMS: Did you shake off the 1993/94 tour by then? That tour where you were close to your fourth triumph and there was a scandal?
Whitefly: That was done one, maximum two days later. Because when it’s time for the Olympics, you can’t spend too much time doing anything else – and I wanted to achieve something in Lillehammer. Even though I felt cheated out of winning the tour at the time, things had to move on quickly.
WAMS: It was the final round in Bischofshofen. They led the overall standings ahead of Espen Bredesen. His teammate Ottesen was ahead of you. And then he sat there…
Whitefly: … and didn’t jump. He sat there for ages, clearly procrastinating. The conditions were good up until then and got worse when it was finally my turn. In the end, Bredesen won the tour.
WAMS: Have you ever spoken to Ottesen about this?
Whitefly: For me he was to some extent the pawn sacrifice. The trainer was responsible. He had told him: “You won’t leave until I wave.” Ottesen was 19 at the time, relatively young. He didn’t really know what was playing. There was then an MDR documentary about my career in 2024, for which we were in Lillehammer, among other places – the surprise guests there: Bredesen and Ottesen. “Three and a half minutes was quite long,” said Ottesen. For me it was over a long time ago, but for the viewers and media it never was.
WAMS: Back to the 95/96 tour; Oberstdorf was followed by Garmisch.
Whitefly: I have to emphasize: If Mika Laitinen, who won in Oberstdorf, hadn’t fallen so badly in training in Garmisch, it would have been more difficult to win the overall race. Not impossible, but difficult.
WAMS: Before Innsbruck you led the tour and there was a so-called weigh-in. What was that?
Whitefly: The best three jumpers were previously weighed in the Innsbruck Casino – one in cheese, the other in ham and the next in jam/honey. So each of us had around 50 kilos of it. We swapped stuff at the end so everyone had a little bit of everything. I thought that was really original and it broke up the same old tour schedule a bit. But I also think that I was open to it that year because I had just decided: “Look forward to everything that comes.”
WAMS: How did you feel when you realized in Bischofshofen that the triumph could work?
Whitefly: Although I had previously won three times in Bischofshofen, I had developed a kind of trauma. Because three other times I went there as the leader of the tour standings – and still didn’t succeed. My big fear was that it would happen again. Things didn’t go so well during training either. Somehow I never really got along with Bischofshofen and the flat approach. To distract myself, I went to the cinema the night before.
WAMS: The other moviegoers were certainly taken aback, right?
Whitefly: I watched “James Bond 007 – Goldeneye” – and yes, everyone in the checkout line looked at me. “Are you going to the cinema now? You’re on tour tomorrow?” some asked.
WAMS: It apparently helped.
Whitefly: Well, I was so excited that I shot forward extremely during the first round. I thought I was going to land on the stem because I was so flat on top – but pretty quickly too. I just said to myself, “You’re going to stay in this position even if you end up on your stomach!” And then it was the best distance of the passage. Suddenly I knew how to jump there.
WAMS: Were you still afraid on the second jump?
Whitefly: The fear was gone, but the excitement was huge. As the overall leader, you are always the hunted and have the greatest pressure. And then they appeared again, the questions from outside about the fourth tour victory.
WAMS: How do you classify victory number four?
Whitefly: First and foremost, I was happy that this one question that had been asked to me again and again for years had stopped: When will the fourth tour win happen? No one else had achieved it until then. This fourth victory was a great relief and redemption, and a burden was also lifted from me. Since my third tour success, I always had the feeling that I had to shoulder enormous expectations. I was able to switch that off at the beginning of the 1995/96 tour because it was going so badly, but then of course it increased dramatically until Bischofshofen.
WAMS: The happy ending was achieved. Won with two jumping styles, for the GDR and for the all-German team. What did that mean to you?
Whitefly: Above all, I am grateful. And of course I’m happy if all of this has meaning not only for me, but also for other people. It’s really a phenomenon, I think, that it still moves people 30 years later. When buses arrive at our hotel and people see me, they clap. That certainly has something to do with this whole time. Many things have become faster today. We no longer accept many things. I became known at a time when everything was perceived more consciously. Viewing habits have also changed. There are a few reasons why things are this way.
WAMS: Janne Ahonen later surpassed you with five tour victories. A wistful moment?
Whitefly: I’m realistic about that. For ten years I was alone at the top with four wins. And if someone does more, you have to acknowledge that. Ahonen has won the tours five times in a short space of time – that’s phenomenal. I don’t regret it. And I also notice that people still value my four victories to this day.
WAMS: What is it like for your 15-year-old daughter Greta, who is a ski jumper? The last name should put pressure on you.
Whitefly: My older son also jumped for a while, and they always announced him as “son of.” Now a few more years have passed, that certainly makes a difference. I think it also depends a bit on the person whether I put pressure on myself. Greta is rather proud, but it can still be too much. Recently she also complained that the stadium announcer pointed out me every time it was her turn – of course that annoyed her too. But overall, I would say she’s above it, otherwise she wouldn’t have made it this far. I admire her for that.
Melanie Haack is a sports editor. She has been reporting on Olympic sports, extreme endurance adventures and fitness and health for WELT since 2011. You can find all of her articles here.
