rewrite this title ‘Dude, good luck’: the Olympic wit and wisdom of a pioneering African skeleton racer

For those not familiar with the sport of skeleton, where the solo sledder lies flat on their stomach, head first, Akwasi Frimpong sums it up: “You’re on a cookie sheet sled and it’s like ‘dude, good luck.'”

Skeleton was actually the third sport Frimpong took up to chase his dream of becoming an Olympian.

Born in Ghana, Frimpong moved to the Netherlands when he was 8 as an undocumented immigrant. He eventually got Dutch citizenship. He also took up track in the Netherlands, and later bobsled, then skeleton. In 2018, he became the first male Black African skeleton racer to compete in the Olympics. (That same year, Simidele Adeagbo became the first female Black African skeleton athlete in the Olympics, competing on Nigeria’s team.)

NPR spoke with Frimpong about the challenges of being an African athlete in a predominantly white sport, his foundation called Hope of a Billion and why not qualifying for the Olympics this year may have saved his life.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

On being a bobsled braker: “The guy who makes sure that at the end, he breaks — so nobody dies”

Can you tell me a bit about your journey into skeleton? How does someone from Ghana get into this sport?

When I was 15, I was recruited in track and field by a coach who was a two-time summer Olympian. He really believed that one day I could become an Olympian [in sprinting]. And because he believed in me, I started believing in myself and worked hard toward that dream of going to the Summer Olympics.

I got as far as being part of the Netherlands pre-Olympic 4×100 meter relay team for the 2012 London Olympic Games, but due to a tendon injury, I wasn’t able to make it to the final team.

After that, I was recruited by the Netherlands bobsled team because of my speed as a sprinter, to become a brakeman — the guy who makes sure that at the end he breaks so nobody dies. I was the second alternate for the 2014 Sochi Olympic Games, meaning I had to wait at home to hear if someone got injured. Luckily, no one did, which also meant that for the second time my dream didn’t come true.

That must’ve been disappointing. What did you do next?

I finished university. But I couldn’t find a job right away, so I went selling Kirby vacuums door to door. After a couple of years, I remember in the summer of 2015, my wife looked at me and said “something’s bugging you” and I was like, “I have that one thing on my bucket list still, besides being married to you — you should not forget to tell your wife that.” And she said “Akwasi, I don’t want you to be 99 years old and still whining about your Olympic dream.”

I was recruited then to try skeleton, going head first. At first I was like “Hell no, no please.” Bobsled was already crazy. Long story short, I gave skeleton a shot. At first it was like “Oh my gosh, this is scary.” But as I made it down, I wanted to go back to the top and do it again.

Why did you decide to compete for Ghana instead of the Netherlands?

My “why” had to be bigger than myself. I could compete for the Netherlands, where I would get more resources, more support, but I decided to compete for Ghana to do something that hadn’t been done before, really teach people to come out of their comfort zone.

I wanted to represent the people of my country, 30 million people, send a message back home of what is possible when you work hard, believe in yourself and never give up.

Did that decision affect how easy it was to train?

We don’t have our own skeleton track in Ghana, and I don’t have as easy access to Western tracks as a Ghanaian athlete. There are only 17 tracks [for bobsled and skeleton] in the world, so there was a lot of traveling involved. I trained in Utah but also traveled to Lake Placid, Canada, Europe and Asia to get some extra training in.

On what it takes to do skeleton: “Fear is a big part of it, you have to learn how to embrace it.” 

How do you train for skeleton? I imagine it’s different from track and even bobsled?

Being a fast sprinter helps, [because of the running start] and I did a lot of sprint training. But there’s still so much skill and technique you have to learn, even for the push off. After that, you’re on a cookie sheet sled and it’s like “dude, good luck.”

Fear is a big part of it, you have to learn how to embrace it.

What was it like coming into a sport dominated by wealthier, whiter countries?

In the beginning, people definitely look at you a little bit different — big eyeballs, and are like “oh my gosh, where are you from, what are you doing here?”

The athletes really like you a lot when you come because they’re like “oh there’s a kid from Africa that I can beat” until you start beating them. Then the dynamic changes a bit. But it’s a great community, for sure.

You ended up qualifying and competing in the 2018 games. What was that like?

A dream come true. To be the first Black male from Africa to compete in skeleton, representing 1.4 billion people, that itself was worth gold.

I was also really proud to wave the flag of my country and send a message back home to all the kids walking barefoot or people that think that they don’t have anything going on for themselves, to hopefully inspire them and empower them.

The reception was incredible from all over the world, not just from Africa. We received messages about people wanting to try the sport, from Mexico, Malaysia, NIgeria, Togo, Ivory Coast.

You kept on racing even after the games. What motivated you?

I never wanted to be the African athlete who just made headlines, I wanted to be competitive. After 2018, I knew I could get better but needed the resources and support to get better. Financing has been a tough thing to do, find new sponsors, new partners. You have a family, a mortgage, it gets expensive.

But I’ve become successful in the sport. That doesn’t mean you’re always going to make the Olympic Games, but I’ve competed in five World Championships, became the first African to win an elite skeleton race in Park City, Utah.

You ended up not qualifying for the 2026 games. What happened?

I feel like I did really well in terms of execution and sliding, but unfortunately it wasn’t good enough to make it. Part of it was an equipment challenge, but the sport is also just getting more competitive.

Fast forward a few weeks later, and [I] realized it was maybe for a good reason. I just had surgery last week for a ruptured appendix. The pain started on February 6, [the day of] the opening ceremony. If I’d have been in Italy, I probably would’ve ignored the pain and may not have been here to talk right now.

On being an altruist: “When you can help a kid find your passion, they move differently in the world.”

What’s next?

My wife and I have a foundation, called the Hope of a Billion foundation. We go around the world and teach kids about resilience and cultivate their inherent power to go after their goals and dreams. We go into the schools and we teach them about principles that I learned to go after my goals and dreams. You know, believe in yourself, work hard, never give up.

It’s about really, really helping these kids showcase that they have something special within them and help them find their passion. When you can help a kid find your passion, they move differently in the world. They show up differently at school. They wake up a little bit earlier. They do things totally different.

Are you hanging up the sled now?

I turned 40 a couple days ago, this was my last hurrah. Maybe I’ll grab my sled every now and then for fun, but I’m at peace with it. Now I hope to mentor, to coach, to help others in underrepresented nations in the sport. I’m not done being involved in inspiring.