AN INVESTMENT OF THE HEART.

Byline: STEVE DILBECK

SNOWBASIN, Utah - This is where legends are made. The greatest sport in the Winter Games. It's a one-shot deal, one quick ride to eternal Olympic glory.

The downhill is not for the weak of heart, nor weak of knee. The downhill racer is a streaking bullet, a pinball on skies that approaches speeds of 90 mph.

They make movies about these guys. They celebrate them, treat them like ski gods and worship them long after the world has forgotten who won the combined. They get the gold, the girls, the myth.

Downhill Olympic gold made Tommy Moe and Bill Johnson into American heroes. Helped make Jean-Claude Killy the most famous skier in history.

Daron Rahlves was America's candidate for downhill fame in the 2002 Winter Games. He had the Robert Redford role. Had the look, too. Blond hair, blue eyes, outspoken, an aggressive skier.

Rahlves is the reigning world champion in the Super G, but he understood exactly what Sunday was about. Sunday was the downhill, king of all ski events, king of the Winter Games.

The Austrians have ruled the downhill in recent years, but Rahlves had finished with the third-fastest time in the training run at the ``Grizzly'' course. Skiing well, at home, Rahlves expected to threaten for the gold.

And he got out well on the 1.94-mile run, maybe almost too well. As he approached the jump, something went wrong. He got what skiers love to call ``big air,'' which has nothing to do with sports-talk radio, and everything to do with being in trouble.

Rahlves looked like he was trying to medal in ski jumping. He flew higher and farther than any of the other 53 skiers, flew at least 175 feet.

Every moment in the air is a moment slower than if streaking down the packed snow. Sometimes skiers can overcome slight mistakes, but with Austria's Fritz Strobl already down the course with an impressive 1:39.12 time, Rahlves knew he was in trouble.

``I wasn't worried about landing,'' he said. ``I knew I was going to land sometime soon. At that point I was waiting for gravity to do its thing.''

Rahlves recovered, and was back to putting together a nice run, when he struggled somewhat down the final leg. He finished in 1:40.84, ultimately only good enough for 16th. Ultimately behind American Marco Sullivan.

This had the makings of Rahlves' moment. He could hear the calling. He had invested his heart into winning here.

``I had - a lot,'' he said. ``This is a big deal. This is the biggest showing of my career, the biggest race. I've finished in top threes, won the world championship in the Super G, which was a dream come true.

``But as far as being an American skier, people get to know you through the Olympics. I was just a little (ticked) at myself, because I didn't step up the way I should have and put down the kind of run I'm capable of doing. That's just the way it goes.''

Europeans may value a World Cup victory over Olympic gold, but in America, the only one true path to winter-sport fame comes attached with five rings.

You get one run in the downhill. One brief shot to streak down a frightening 2,900-foot drop. It's a long time to train for 100 seconds. Too much to be removed by some big air.

``I can't really figure out why I didn't perform the way I can up here,'' he said. ``It just hasn't come to me yet.

``It's there, it's just a shot right now. I need to howl at the moon a little bit and lick my wounds.''

Rahlves still has the Super G and the Giant Slalom, has opportunities to medal, to leave with gold.

Just not another shot to be the king of the hill, to become an Olympic legend.