Summary of the Key Points
This article focuses on the incident where Liu Xiang asked on Weibo in 2026 whether to buy out his working years or to become a coach. It explores the deep-seated ties between retired athletes and the system, the public's excessive expectations and interference with celebrities, and the dilemma of personal freedom of choice. The article reflects on the fact that even after reaching his peak and retiring, Liu Xiang still feels the need to be “arranged” by others, and calls for respect for his autonomy—no matter which path he chooses, as long as it is his own decision, it represents true freedom.
I. Liu Xiang’s “Second Retirement”: Off the Track, but Still Bound by the System?
Liu Xiang announced his retirement from competitive racing in 2015, but at the age of 43 in 2026, he was still struggling with the decision of whether to buy out his working years or to continue working. This can be seen as a “second retirement”: the first time was leaving the competitive arena, and the second time is completely breaking free from the system’s bureaucratic constraints.
Why has it taken so long? Because most athletes are trained by the system—starting in sports schools from a young age, with coaches arranging their training and the state providing resources for competitions, their personal records and employment are naturally tied to the sports authorities. It’s similar to how ordinary people are tied to their workplaces; even if they stop working, their records remain with the organization until they are officially free. Liu Xiang’s situation is more special, as he was a star athlete nurtured by the state, and the system’s responsibilities and constraints towards him were even greater, which is why it took him 11 years to reach this point.
II. A Life “Arranged” by Others: From National Pride to Personal Dilemmas
Liu Xiang’s life has almost always been “arranged” by others:
- As a child, his parents supported his pursuit of sports, and coach Sun Haiping planned his training;
- After becoming famous, commercial teams arranged endorsements, and the public expected him to “bring glory to the nation”—he was not just expected to be fast; he also had to prove that “Chinese people could do it too”;
- Even his mother once said, “He is the son of the country,” implying that his life belonged not to his family but to the state.
These arrangements were initially helpful (without the system, he wouldn’t have achieved the 12.91-second time at the Athens Olympics), but they later became a burden: he was criticized for being a “coward” after retiring due to an injury in 2008, and his actions were only gradually understood after another injury in 2012. The public’s expectations overshadowed his own desires, leaving him feeling with no options, even when he had choices (such as whether to compete in 2012).
III. The Public’s “Cheap Advice”: Why Do We Always Want to Make Decisions for Others?
When Liu Xiang asked netizens for advice, some suggested he buy out his working rights to gain freedom, while others advised him to become a coach to repay the country. This is reminiscent of the endless bureaucracy in many organizations:
- Those who criticized him for retiring in 2008 didn’t have to bear the consequences of his injury; those who apologized later didn’t have to compensate for his losses; and those who offer advice now don’t have to live out his future.
It’s like the debate over whether Wei Dongyi should promote products online—people always like to dictate others’ lives without taking any responsibility for the outcomes. This kind of “cheap advice” essentially imposes one’s own will on others, ignoring their true needs.
IV. A Simple Definition of Freedom: Let Liu Xiang Decide for Himself
The article argues that for Liu Xiang, freedom doesn’t require something grand like “resigning and traveling far away”—as long as his choice is made by himself, whether it’s to become a coach or to buy out his working rights, it’s considered freedom.
Eleven years ago, Liu Xiang said he didn’t want to be a coach or an official and instead wanted to work in youth sports and charity. Now, by asking for advice, he might be seeking public opinion to support his decision, or it could just be a form of interaction. The key is that he needs to make his own choices about his future.
Our role should not be to make decisions for him, but to respect his choices—even if they are not what we prefer, as long as they reflect what he truly wants, they represent true happiness.
Final Thoughts
Liu Xiang’s story serves as a mirror, reflecting the constraints imposed by the system on individuals and the public’s excessive interference with celebrities. Hopefully, this time he can truly “be himself” and live the life he desires, without having to account to anyone else. After all, the Liu Xiang who once shone on the track deserves the freedom to live without being controlled by others.