Marco Odermatt claims record 4th downhill victory in Wengen to assert status as Olympic favorite

WENGEN, Switzerland (AP) — Marco Odermatt already has no equals on the World Cup skiing circuit.

Now the Swiss star is unmatched in the biggest event on home snow, too.

Odermatt dominated a shortened race Saturday to set up his fourth career downhill victory in Wengen — breaking a tie for the most downhill victories on the famed Lauberhorn course with Franz Klammer and Beat Feuz.

Austrian standout Klammer claimed his three Wengen downhill wins in the 1970s while Feuz, another Swiss skier, claimed his third victory in 2020.

What’s more is that Odermatt’s four wins have come in succession.

“From the very first gate I was so ready to push,” Odermatt said.

Including a super-G victory in 2022, Odermatt has five wins in Wengen overall — plus four other podium results.

“Every year was a big highlight and the highlight goes on,” he said.

Odermatt finished a massive 0.79 seconds ahead of Austria’s Vincent Kriechmayr and 0.90 ahead of Italy's Giovanni Franzoni, who claimed his first career victory in Friday's super-G.

Strong winds prompted organizers to drastically shorten the course — making the narrow and tactical “Kernen S” section the key to the race. Odermatt mastered the section perfectly and carried away a faster speed on the exit than anyone else.

“Where I lost the race yesterday I won it today,” Odermatt said, referring to his fourth-place result in the super-G. “That’s racing. If you don’t take the risk you cannot win races at this level."

Franjo von Allmen and Alexis Money, two other Swiss skiers, finished fourth and fifth, respectively.

Von Allmen, the world champion in downhill last season, took a riskier approach and skied into a television camera lining the course inside the “S” section. Then he crashed in the finish area — although appeared unhurt.

Dominik Paris of Italy was sixth after registering the top speed at 151.57 kph (94 kph).

It’s the first of the two weekends at the circuit’s classic venues, with Kitzbuehel, Austria, up next. Then the focus will switch to the Milan Cortina Winter Olympics in Italy — with the men to ski in Bormio.

Odermatt won gold in giant slalom at the 2022 Beijing Olympics and will be favored to win multiple medals at the upcoming Games.

Overall, it was Odermatt’s 52nd World Cup victory, moving him within two wins of matching Hermann Maier for third place on the all-time men’s list. He's also got a massive lead in the standings as he chases a fifth consecutive overall World Cup title.

Odermatt immediately knew he had done something special again, screaming with delight in the finish area and waving to the crowd, which was made up almost entirely of fans waving Swiss flags.

Franzoni was able to overcome a low starting slot with the No. 28 bib and confirm his status as a rising contender

“Getting my first downhill podium here is phenomenal,” Franzoni said. “It was magical yesterday in super-G and almost better today, considering the conditions.”

A slalom — an event Odermatt does not compete in — is scheduled for Wengen on Sunday.

AP Olympics: https://apnews.com/hub/milan-cortina-2026-winter-olympics

Switzerland's Marco Odermatt listens to the national anthem on the podium after winning an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Giovanni Zenoni)

Switzerland's Franjo von Allmen crashes at the finish area of an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Giovanni Zenoni)

Spectators gather to follow an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill race, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (Jean-Christophe Bott/Keystone via AP)

Switzerland's Marco Odermatt reacts in the finish area during an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill race, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (Peter Schneider/Keystone via AP)

Switzerland's Marco Odermatt speeds down the course during an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (AP Photo/Gabriele Facciotti)

Switzerland's Marco Odermatt reacts in the finish area during an alpine ski, men's World Cup downhill race, in Wengen, Switzerland, Saturday, Jan. 17, 2026. (Peter Schneider/Keystone via AP)

MINNEAPOLIS (AP) — Work starts around sunrise for many of the federal officers carrying out the immigration crackdown in and around the Twin Cities, with hundreds of people in tactical gear emerging from a bland office building near the main airport.

Within minutes, hulking SUVs, pickup trucks and minivans begin leaving, forming the unmarked convoys that have quickly become feared and common sights in the streets of Minneapolis, St. Paul and their suburbs.

Protesters also arrive early, braving the cold to stand across the street from the fenced-in federal compound, which houses an immigration court and government offices. “Go home!” they shout as convoys roar past. "ICE out!”

Things often turn uglier after nightfall, when the convoys return and the protesters sometimes grow angrier, shaking fences and occasionally smacking passing cars. Eventually, the federal officers march toward them, firing tear gas and flash grenades before hauling away at least a few people.

“We’re not going anywhere!” a woman shouted on a recent morning. “We’re here until you leave.”

This is the daily rhythm of Operation Metro Surge, the Trump administration's latest and biggest crackdown yet, with more than 2,000 officers taking part. The surge has pitted city and state officials against the federal government, sparked daily clashes between activists and immigration officers in the deeply liberal cities, and left a mother of three dead.

The crackdown is barely noticeable in some areas, particularly in whiter, wealthier neighborhoods and suburbs, where convoys and tear gas are rare. And even in neighborhoods where masked immigration officers are common, they often move with ghostlike quickness, making arrests and disappearing before protesters can gather in force.

Still, the surge can be felt across broad swaths of the Twin Cities area, which is home to more than 3 million people.

“We don’t use the word ‘invasion’ lightly,” Minneapolis Mayor Jacob Frey, a Democrat, told reporters this week, noting that his police force has just 600 officers. “What we are seeing is thousands — plural, thousands — of federal agents coming into our city.”

Those agents have an outsized presence in a small city.

It can take hours to drive across Los Angeles and Chicago, both targets of Trump administration crackdowns. It can take 15 minutes to cross Minneapolis.

So as worry ripples through the region, children are skipping school or learning remotely, families are avoiding religious services and many businesses, especially in immigrant neighborhoods, have closed temporarily.

Drive down Lake Street, an immigrant hub since the days when newcomers came to Minneapolis from Norway and Sweden, and the sidewalks now seem crowded only with activists standing watch, ready to blow warning whistles at the first sign of a convoy.

At La Michoacana Purepecha, where customers can order ice cream, chocolate covered bananas and pork rinds, the door is locked and staff let in people one at a time. Nearby, at Taqueria Los Ocampo, a sign in English and Spanish says the restaurant is temporarily closed because of “current conditions.”

A dozen blocks away at the Karmel Mall, where the city’s large Somali community goes for everything from food and coffee to tax preparation, signs on the doors warn, “No ICE enter without court order.”

It’s been nearly six years since George Floyd was murdered by a Minneapolis police officer, but the scars from that killing remain raw.

Floyd was killed just blocks from where an Immigration and Citizenship Enforcement officer shot and killed Renee Good, a 37-year-old American citizen, during a Jan. 7 confrontation after she stopped to help neighbors during an enforcement operation. Federal officials say the officer fired in self-defense after Good “weaponized” her vehicle. City and state officials dismiss those explanations and point to multiple bystander videos of the confrontation.

For Twin Cities residents, the crackdown can feel overwhelming.

“Enough is enough,” said Johan Baumeister, who came to the scene of Good’s death soon after the shooting to lay flowers.

He said he didn’t want to see the violent protests that shook Minneapolis after Floyd’s death, causing billions of dollars in damage. But this city has a long history of activism and protests, and he had no doubt there would be more.

“I think they’ll see Minneapolis show our rage again,” he predicted.

He was right.

In the days since, there have been repeated confrontations between activists and immigration officers. Most amounted to little more than shouted insults and taunting, with destruction mostly limited to broken windows, graffiti and some badly damaged federal vehicles.

But angry clashes now flare regularly across the Twin Cities. Some protesters clearly want to provoke the federal officers, throwing snowballs at them or screaming obscenities through bullhorns from just a couple feet away. The serious force, though, comes from immigration officers, who have broken car windows, pepper-sprayed protesters and warned observers not to follow them through the streets. Immigrants and citizens have been yanked from cars and homes and detained, sometimes for days. And most clashes end in tear gas.

Drivers in Minneapolis or St. Paul can now stumble across intersections blocked by men in body armor and gas masks, with helicopters clattering overhead and the air filled with the shriek of protesters' whistles.

In a state that prides itself on its decency, there’s something particularly Minnesotan about the protests,

Soon after Good was shot, Gov. Tim Walz, a Democrat and regular Trump target, repeatedly said he was angry but also urged people to find ways to help their communities.

“It might be shoveling your neighbor’s walk,” he said. “It might mean being at a food bank. It might be pausing to talk to someone you haven’t talked to before.”

He and other leaders have pleaded with protesters to remain peaceful, warning that the White House was looking for a chance to crack down harder.

And when protests do become clashes, residents will often spill from their homes, handing out bottled water so people can flush tear gas from their eyes.

Residents stand watch at schools to warn immigrant parents if convoys approach while they're picking up their children. They take care packages to people too afraid to go out, and arrange rides for them to work and doctor's visits.

On Thursday, in the basement of a Lutheran church in St. Paul, the group Open Market MN assembled food packs for more than a hundred families staying home. Colin Anderson, the group’s outreach director, said the group has seen a surge in requests.

Sometimes, people don’t even understand what has happened to them.

Like Christian Molina from suburban Coon Rapids, who was driving through a Minneapolis neighborhood on a recent day, taking his car to a mechanic, when immigration officers began following him. He wonders if it's because he looks Hispanic.

They turned on their siren, but Molina kept driving, unsure who they were.

Eventually, the officers sped up, hit his rear bumper and both cars stopped. Two emerged and asked Molina for his papers. He refused, saying he’d wait for the police. Crowds began to gather, and a clash soon broke out, ending with tear gas.

So the officers left.

They left behind an angry, worried man who suddenly owned a sedan with a mangled rear fender.

Long after the officers were gone he had one final question.

“Who’s going to pay for my car?”

Associated Press reporters Rebecca Santana and Giovanna Dell’Orto in Minneapolis, and Hallie Golden in Seattle, contributed to this story.

Federal immigration officers confront protesters outside Bishop Henry Whipple Federal Building, Thursday, Jan. 15, 2026, in Minneapolis. (AP Photo/Yuki Iwamura)

A federal immigration officer deploys pepper spray as officers make an arrest Sunday, Jan. 11, 2026, in Minneapolis. (AP Photo/John Locher)

Protesters gather in front of the Minnesota State Capitol in response to the death of Renee Good, who was fatally shot by an ICE officer last week, Wednesday, Jan. 14, 2026, in St. Paul, Minn. (AP Photo/Abbie Parr)

Protesters try to avoid tear gas dispersed by federal agents, Monday, Jan. 12, 2026 in Minneapolis (AP Photo/Adam Gray)

Federal immigration officers are seen outside Bishop Whipple Federal Building after tear gas was deployed Monday, Jan. 12, 2026, in Minneapolis. (AP Photo/Jen Golbeck)