Finland’s Luger Walter Vikström:

How an Ex-Goalkeeper Found His Way in Luge

Park City (FIL/30 Dec 2025) When Walter Vikström slides down an ice track, he does so carrying more than just his sled. He carries the blue and white colours of Finland — a nation synonymous with winter, ice and speed, yet still waiting for its breakthrough moment in international sliding sports. Most recently, that responsibility rested on the shoulders of the 25-year-old at the second stop of the 2025/26 EBERSPÄCHER Luge World Cup in Park City.

Vikström is not yet a familiar name in luge circles. A look at his statistics — 15 World Cups, one European Championship and two World Championships — does not reveal headline results. But numbers alone do not tell the full story. For Vikström, luge is not a childhood passion refined over decades. It is a late discovery, born from disappointment, resilience and an unexpected second chance in sport.

A Football Dream Interrupted

For most of his youth, Vikström’s future lay not on ice, but on grass. As a talented goalkeeper, he was once considered one of Finland’s promising prospects. Between 2014 and 2017, he trained with Italian Serie A clubs AS Roma, Empoli and Pescara, before moving to Sweden to join IF Brommapojkarna’s academy.

There, he faced — and occasionally shut out — players who would later become household names. Viktor Gyökeres, Hjalmar Ekdal and Alexander Isak were among his contemporaries. Vikström progressed to Täby FK in Sweden’s second tier and was even part of a promotion-winning squad. Professional football was within reach.

Then came a turning point he never planned.

In Finland, military service is compulsory. While many athletes choose a sports-military option, Vikström opted for full service, seeking the challenge. Unfortunately, his year of conscription coincided with the COVID-19 pandemic.

“It wasn’t really my choice, but I did it during COVID,” he recalls. “For one year I had no football training. If it hadn’t been for the restrictions, I could have trained in the evenings — but we couldn’t go out.”

That year without structured training proved decisive. Though he continued playing semi-professionally after returning home in 2019, Vikström felt the gap was too large to close.

“It’s annoying not to be where I used to be,” he admits. “After that year, I just felt there was no point continuing.”

A Random Encounter with Luge

Still driven by the desire to compete, Vikström began searching for something new. The answer arrived unexpectedly — on television.

“I was watching the Olympics and randomly thought luge looked interesting,” he says. “I just wanted to try it out and see what it felt like.”

With little to lose, he contacted the Finnish federation president to ask if there was a club where he could try the sport. The reply came quickly: the national team was heading to Sigulda, Latvia, for a training camp the following week.

“One week later, I went to try luge,” Vikström smiles. “I really loved it, and I just stuck with it.”

What began as curiosity soon became commitment. The speed, precision and adrenaline hooked him instantly. But another realization followed: Finland had almost no presence in the sport.

“Instead of going back to football, where everything was uncertain, I realized here I could maybe represent my country,” he explains. “That was something I never achieved in football.”

Making Finnish Luge History

Just two years after first stepping onto a sled, Vikström lined up at the World Cup in Innsbruck in 2023. In doing so, he became the first Finnish men’s singles luger born in Finland to compete in the modern World Cup era.

“That felt surreal,” he says. “When I got to my first World Cup, I suddenly understood there’s actually a chance — even a small one — for the Olympics.”

Finland’s absence from sliding sports still puzzles him. Despite a national love for ice hockey and winter conditions that seem ideal for luge, no Finnish athlete has ever competed in Olympic sliding events.

“For a Finnish standard, that’s very weird,” Vikström says. “It’s an ice sport — we love ice sports. There’s ice and adrenaline, everything a Finnish person should love.”

He believes the biggest barrier is visibility. “People just don’t know you can compete in this sport seriously,” he explains, suggesting Alpine luge could be a natural entry point for young Finns growing up on ski slopes.

Encouragingly, change may be coming. Vikström reveals that the Finnish Olympic Committee has begun supporting efforts to rebuild a luge programme from the ground up.

A Lone Ranger — For Now

For the moment, Vikström remains a solitary figure on the World Cup circuit. Finland has no luge track; Sigulda serves as his home base, a 10-hour journey from home. Lillehammer is the next closest option — nearly a full day of travel.

He trains as part of the FIL’s small nations programme alongside athletes from Great Britain, Ireland, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Croatia, Estonia and Georgia, supported by an international coaching team.

The environment, he says, is one of the sport’s greatest strengths.

“Everybody is competing, but still helping each other,” Vikström explains. “It’s a lovely atmosphere. I really love the surroundings of this sport.”

His Olympic ambitions are realistic but hopeful. Milano-Cortina 2026 remains a stretch given limited quota places, yet the long-term goal is clear: the French Alps 2030.

“My main goal is 2030, but I’m trying for this one too,” he says. “Having even a small chance of the Olympics is crazy when I only started four years ago.”

From Pressure to Freedom

Despite the obvious risks of hurtling down an ice track at over 130 km/h, Vikström feels less pressure in luge than he ever did in football.

“In football, you perform for the team, for your position,” he reflects. “Here it’s all on me. Strangely, that gives me less pressure and more excitement.”

Football remains part of his life — he still plays, coaches and follows the sport closely — but winter now belongs to luge. The gym work has changed, the focus has shifted, yet the athlete’s mindset remains.

Quitting football was painful. But standing at the start gate in Park City, Winterberg or Sigulda, Walter Vikström knows he made the right choice.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says. “Now I can do something I never did before — I can represent my country.”

And for Finnish luge, that alone may already be a victory.