A new perspective for Jeret Peterson

Reporting from Vancouver, Canada — 

He had nothing to apologize for -- not one thing, not after the best day and night of his life -- but sorrys have been such a part of Jeret “Speedy” Peterson’s life that old habits are hard to break.

“These are tears of joy,” Peterson said. “I haven’t cried those in 15 years.”

Peterson had been funny, insightful and brutally honest after going for, and landing, his signature trick, the electrifying Hurricane, in winning the silver medal Thursday night in the men’s aerials at Cypress Mountain.

In the interview room, he had not cried when talking about the redemption of bringing home a medal after having been sent home from the Olympics four years ago after a bar fight with a friend.

Or about his bankruptcy and battle with drinking and depression, the multiple fights depleting him so much that he twice attempted suicide.

The tears of joy came when he was asked Friday morning about what he hoped the silver medal would do for him.

“It’s definitely a tool that I want to use to help other people,” Peterson said. “I’ve already earned everything that I won from this medal and I . . . excuse me . . . this medal represents me overcoming everything.

“It’s my gift to myself. And I’m ecstatic. I’m extremely happy with the way things are turning out in my life.”

The Hurricane -- a five-twist, three-flip trick -- was an apt metaphor for his life, on the ramp and off it. He rocketed through big-time gambling wins and losses in Las Vegas and suffered the agony of seeing his best friend kill himself before the Turin Olympics.

“I always had this feeling I was put on this earth to see how much crap somebody could go through and still come out on top,” Peterson said.

By then, tears were falling on both sides of the interview table.

Candor did not just show up 28 years into Peterson’s life, landing on his resume in Vancouver.

In a long piece this month, Men’s Journal explored his journey into the abyss and back in searing, almost painful detail. Peterson’s rationale for his continuing candor was all about helping someone out there, someone all alone without hope, showing that there was a way out of despair.

In Vancouver, before the aerials competition, he said that was one of the reasons for going front and center. The silver medal brought a flood of e-mails and voice messages, many from those who have lost a loved one and some from people battling depression.

“It goes to show that people can make something of second chances,” he said. “It’s OK to make mistakes as long as you learn from them and as long as you’re able to become a better person.

“I’ve been very fortunate to have the support of the ski team and the Olympic team. For me, being an idiot and for them to treat me like their kid that they have to love whether they want to or not.

“Because I wasn’t going anywhere.”

The Hurricane took him places he had been unable to reach.

Peterson could land the difficult trick in practice but never in Olympic competition. He was mulling the Hurricane around noon Thursday, scribbling in his journal his thoughts about his jumps.

“I wrote out a piece of paper that I can land the Hurricane,” Peterson said Friday morning.

Whether it was a mere 12 minutes of sleep he claimed to have or the cumulative effect of interview after interview, Peterson stopped and apologized again for getting emotional.

He collected himself and finished the thought.

“I crossed ‘can’ and wrote out ‘will,’ ” he said. “And I did it ... all that hard work, all that stubbornness and all that support I’ve had for so many years has paid off.”

This isn’t to suggest there weren’t smiles and laughter during Peterson’s news conference on Friday morning. He joked about going on the “Today” show and heard that actor Vince Vaughn watched his silver-medal performance.

“He wanted to come and meet me. I want to meet him,” Peterson said. “The first person I met after I was done with all this stuff was one of the guys who started Google. How many people get to meet that guy?”

He placed second behind his friend Alexei Grishin of Belarus, who was the second-to-last jumper Thursday night. He said he realized for the first time that silver could be just as meaningful. This was the third Olympics for Peterson, and the last.

He said Thursday he was planning to retire the Hurricane. As for himself?

Peterson didn’t retire, at least not officially.

“I’m 28,” he said. “I’m not ready to retire today. But I’m pretty sure at Sochi, I’ll be on that side of this table.”

Peterson couldn’t quite put his finger on when a measure of peace gathered him in an embrace. It was, quite simply, enough that it happened. From rogue to role model.

“It feels great,” he said. “People say, ‘Man, I can do that too.’ It doesn’t have to be a silver medal. I’ll tell you what. I’ve won seven World Cups before and I’ve been that top guy. But I was miserable.

“I would trade any win, any medal in my life to be happy.”

lisa.dillman@latimes.com

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