From Stamford Bridge to the starting blocks

One of football’s fastest players is plotting a lane change. According to people close to the situation, Mykhailo Mudryk has started training with Ukraine’s national sprint setup as he explores a bid to compete at the 2028 Los Angeles Olympics. The Chelsea star, 24, is weighing a move to the track while his football future hangs in the balance amid a looming doping case.

Reports in Ukraine and England say Mudryk faces disqualification after his B sample returned positive for a banned substance. The case has not been fully adjudicated in public, but the consequences could be severe. Even so, he remains listed in Chelsea’s 2025/26 Premier League squad, a technicality that says more about process and timelines than certainty over his role. Behind the scenes, he has been working with former Olympians to learn the mechanics of sprinting—block starts, drive phase, posture, and the fine details that separate raw pace from race-winning speed.

Mudryk’s speed has never been in doubt. On his Premier League debut, he was clocked at 36.67 km/h (about 22.8 mph). That is elite in football terms and puts him in the conversation with the quickest in Europe. But track sprinting is a different sport. It’s not just how fast you can run at top speed—it’s how quickly you reach it, how you hold it, and how efficiently you move from the first step out of the blocks to the final stride at the line.

What distances could he target? No one in his camp is saying. Based on his profile—explosive acceleration and high top speed—the 100 meters or 200 meters seem the logical options. Some multi-sport athletes have also tried the 60 meters indoors to sharpen starts. For now, his work is happening away from cameras, with mock starts and short accelerations, heavy technical drills, and strength work designed for sprinters rather than wingers.

Ukraine has a proud track tradition, especially in jumps and hurdles, but sprinting depth at the very top is thinner. That can cut both ways. The runway to a national team could be less crowded, but the international bar is brutal. World Athletics qualifying for the last Olympics in 2024 required 10.00 seconds in the 100m and 20.16 in the 200m—ferocious standards that wipe out almost everyone but world-class sprinters. The 2028 standards aren’t set yet, but they won’t get easier.

To be clear, there’s time. The Los Angeles Games are three years away. Ukraine’s national trials are expected in 2027, giving him multiple seasons to learn the start, build the engine, and log race reps on the European circuit. If he’s serious, he’ll need to treat sprinting as a full-time job: two sessions most days, strict periodization, and a body rebuilt for maximal power output over 10–20 seconds, not 90 minutes.

What Mudryk must clear to make LA 2028

The switch sounds romantic—fast footballer chases Olympic dream—but there’s a hard checklist ahead. This is what stands between Mudryk and an Olympic lane:

  • WADA compliance: If he’s sanctioned under the World Anti-Doping Code for a football violation, the ineligibility typically applies across all Olympic sports. In short, a football ban can also bar him from track for the duration of the suspension.
  • Eligibility timelines: Provisional suspensions, appeals, and arbitration can stretch for months. A lengthy ban that overlaps 2027–2028 would make an Olympic run impossible. A shorter sanction—or a successful appeal—would keep the door open.
  • Qualifying standards or world ranking: World Athletics sets automatic entry times and also uses a world ranking system. Athletes who don’t hit the entry standard can still qualify via ranking—if they race often, score enough points, and place well at approved meets.
  • National selection: Even with the standard, he would have to finish high enough at Ukraine’s trials or be selected by the federation. Federations can be strict—especially with limited slots.

What would a realistic time look like for someone switching from football? History gives a few clues. NFL wide receiver Marquise Goodwin made the Olympics in the long jump after juggling football and track. Devon Allen balanced American football with world-class hurdling. On the sprint side in Europe, Adam Gemili left Chelsea’s academy as a teenager to become a championship-level sprinter. The common thread: explosive talent plus years of disciplined, technical training.

There’s also the mechanics of speed. Football tests repeated sprints, changes of direction, and contact. Track demands one perfect run. Starts from blocks put a premium on reaction, shin angles, and force through the first 30 meters. The transition from max-velocity running in boots to spikes on a Mondo track changes ground contact times and muscle loading. It’s why even gifted athletes can take two full seasons to look comfortable on the circuit.

And then there’s injury risk. A sprint start and maximal top-end speed put huge stress on hamstrings and adductors. Plenty of footballers have found that out in pre-season speed work. Olympic sprinters build resilience with specific lifting (heavy squats, cleans), plyometrics, and carefully timed rest. Mudryk would have to become that kind of athlete, not just a fast player who can handle a back four.

How quick does he need to be to matter internationally? In recent European finals, sub-10.10 seconds in the 100m and sub-20.30 in the 200m put you in contention. World-level finals often demand sub-10 in the 100m. That’s a gulf, but not unheard of for late converts with extraordinary power and dedication. The timeline is tight, but not crazy if the legal path is clear and the coaching is right.

Reaction to the idea has been split. Some fans see the romance in a reinvention story—and argue that if he can hit 36–37 km/h in a match, there’s something to mine. Others think it’s a distraction from the doping case and a tough sell to a sport that prizes technique and consistency. Coaches in both camps tend to say the same thing: the speed is real; making it count over 100 meters is a skill you can’t fake.

Where does Chelsea fit in? For now, the club has not made sweeping public statements beyond routine squad administration. If a ban lands, clubs typically move to suspend players and reassess contracts; if an appeal succeeds, reintegration becomes the question. Either way, it’s hard to imagine Mudryk juggling a true sprint build with Premier League demands. The body and the calendar won’t tolerate it. If he commits to track, it’s a full pivot.

On the Ukraine side, a switch would be eye-catching. The national team could gain a high-profile recruit who draws attention and resources to sprinting. At the same time, selection policies won’t bend for celebrity. He’d have to race the same domestic meets, post the same times, and prove he belongs in a relay pool or an individual lane. Coaches will be intrigued by his raw speed but will want to see start data, flying-30 splits, and competition nerves under gun and clock.

So what happens next? First, clarity on the anti-doping case—charge, length of sanction (if any), and whether it crosses into track eligibility under the WADA code. Second, confirmation of his training group and competition plan: indoor meets in early 2026 to learn blocks, European outdoor races that spring to build ranking, and a full 2027 season timed to peak for national trials. Third, evidence. Training clips are one thing; a legal 10.30 or faster with reaction times and wind readings is another.

The idea of a Premier League star trading the Champions League spotlight for a starter’s pistol will always provoke debate. But Olympic sport has room for reinvention stories—if they come with discipline and transparency. Mudryk’s raw speed buys him curiosity. The clock, the rules, and the next three years will decide the rest.