In the wake of conservative firebrand Charlie Kirk’s shocking assassination on September 10, 2025, at Utah Valley University, the sports and political landscapes collided in a way few could have anticipated. Kirk, the 31-year-old co-founder of Turning Point USA and a relentless voice in right-wing activism, was gunned down mid-speech during the kickoff of his “American Comeback Tour.” The event, meant to rally young conservatives against what he saw as cultural decay, ended in chaos as bullets pierced the air, leaving a nation grappling with grief, conspiracy theories, and a manhunt that still echoes today. President Donald Trump, in a White House address that night, hailed Kirk as a “martyr for truth and freedom,” blaming “radical left rhetoric” for the violence that claimed his life. Vigils sprang up from Orem, Utah, to Kirk’s hometown in Illinois, with flags at half-staff and a collective mourning that crossed partisan lines—though not without whispers of Mossad involvement or Epstein file ties, as Tucker Carlson controversially mused at a memorial service.

Yet, amid this somber tableau, a digital bombshell dropped from an unlikely source: Olympic gymnastics icon Simone Biles. The 28-year-old phenom, holder of 30 world and Olympic medals including seven golds, had long been a lightning rod for Kirk’s ire. Their feud traced back to the 2020 Tokyo Olympics, where Biles made the gutsy call to withdraw from the team competition—and several events thereafter—citing a crisis of confidence known as “the twisties,” compounded by the mental health toll of her past abuse by former USA Gymnastics doctor Larry Nassar. In a blistering episode of “The Charlie Kirk Show” on July 28, 2021, Kirk unloaded without mercy. “She’s totally a sociopath,” he declared, his voice dripping with disdain. “What kind of person skips the gold medal match? Who does that? It’s a shame to the nation. Simone Biles just showed the rest of the nation that when things get tough, you shatter into a million pieces.” He doubled down, labeling her “weak,” “immature,” “very selfish,” and ultimately, the “disgrace of the nation”—words that ignited a firestorm, with supporters like Michael Phelps defending Biles as a human under unimaginable pressure, while Kirk’s base cheered the takedown as tough love for American exceptionalism.
Biles, then 24, stayed mostly silent on the attacks, channeling her energy into a triumphant return at the 2024 Paris Games, where she clinched three more golds and redefined resilience on the vault. But Kirk’s barbs lingered like an open wound, resurfacing in online echo chambers and fueling endless think pieces on mental health in elite sports. Fast-forward to November 2025, two months after Kirk’s death had barely faded from headlines. On a quiet Tuesday evening, Biles—whose Twitter handle @Simone_Biles boasts over 5 million followers—logged on and unleashed what insiders are calling her most unfiltered moment yet. The post, framed as an “explosive blog,” materialized without warning: a lengthy thread unpacking years of pent-up anguish, laced with raw reflections on Kirk’s legacy of cruelty.

Eyewitness accounts from social media sleuths pieced together the fragments before they vanished. The thread opened with a haunting line: “Some wounds don’t heal with gold medals—they fester until the world forces your hand.” Biles delved into the “personal hell” Kirk’s words had wrought, describing sleepless nights replaying his “disgrace” label during her therapy sessions post-Tokyo. She wove in the broader ripple effects: how his rhetoric amplified online harassment that spilled into her family’s life, with death threats and doxxing that Nassar survivors know all too well. “Charlie Kirk didn’t just call me weak; he weaponized my vulnerability against every kid dreaming on a beam somewhere,” she reportedly wrote, her prose shifting from measured pain to a subtle, searing critique. What made it “explosive” wasn’t outright mockery of his death—Biles has always risen above pettiness—but the uncanny timing. Posted mere hours after a fresh wave of Kirk tributes flooded timelines, including Trump’s posthumous Presidential Medal of Freedom nod, it read like a ghost from 2021 settling old scores. One excerpt, captured in screenshots before the purge, hit hardest: “I forgave the twisties, but words like ‘sociopath’ twist deeper. Rest in the peace you denied so many.”

The internet erupted faster than a floor routine gone viral. Within minutes, the thread racked up 200,000 likes, shares from allies like Phelps (“Simone’s strength isn’t in flips—it’s in facing the fallout head-on”), and a deluge of comments from fans hailing it as cathartic closure. But the backlash was swift and savage. Conservative outlets pounced, branding it “vindictive grave-dancing” in the shadow of tragedy. Riley Gaines, the anti-trans swimmer activist whose own 2025 Twitter feud with Biles led to the gymnast briefly deactivating her account in June, chimed in: “Even in death, Charlie Kirk exposes the left’s true colors—using pain as a prop.” Hashtags like #JusticeForKirk and #BilesBacklash trended, pitting mental health advocates against free-speech purists in a debate that blurred lines between grief and accountability. Sports psychologists weighed in, noting how such public reckonings can empower survivors but risk reigniting trauma for all involved.
Then, poof—it was gone. By 9:15 p.m. ET, the entire thread had been scrubbed, leaving only ethereal screenshots and frantic Google caches. Minutes later, Biles’ account vanished entirely, slapped with a ban that X (formerly Twitter) attributed to “policy violations” in a terse statement. Was it a targeted takedown by pro-Kirk moderators, or Biles hitting delete in a panic? Whispers suggest the latter: sources close to her camp say the post was a late-night catharsis, drafted in therapy and impulsively shared amid resurfacing grief over Kirk’s passing. “She didn’t mean for it to go nuclear,” one confidant told me off the record. “But once it’s out, you can’t untwist it.” The ban, lasting an unprecedented 72 hours before reinstatement, fueled conspiracy mills—echoing the Mossad theories around Kirk’s sniper. Biles emerged on Instagram the next day with a cryptic story: a black-and-white vault photo captioned, “Some landings are softer in silence.” No direct address of the drama, but the subtext screamed volumes.

This saga leaves the sports world—and beyond—stunned into a rare hush. Biles, ever the queen of comeback, has transformed personal vendettas into platforms before, from her “I am still here” tattoo post-Nassar to her 2024 advocacy for athlete mental health reforms. Kirk, for all his bombast, embodied a conservatism that thrived on calling out perceived frailties, yet his death underscores the fragility he so often dismissed. Their clash wasn’t just celebrity sniping; it was a microcosm of America’s divides—mental health versus machismo, vulnerability versus valor, forgiveness versus finality. As the FBI’s $100,000 reward for Kirk’s killer gathers dust, Biles’ deleted words linger as a reminder: in the arena of public life, some revelations hit harder than any dismount.
What drove Biles to that edge after years of restraint? Insiders hint at a tipping point—perhaps a fresh memorial clip of Kirk’s old rant circulating anew, or the weight of unspoken solidarity with other women targeted by his microphone. Whatever the spark, it cracked open a conversation long overdue. In gyms from Houston to Tokyo, young athletes now whisper about the “Biles blog” like urban legend, a tale of one icon staring down another’s shadow. And as Biles preps for her next chapter—rumors swirl of a memoir or coaching pivot—the question hangs: Has she finally vaulted past the noise, or is this just the setup for her most daring routine yet? The sports world watches, breathless, knowing Simone Biles doesn’t just compete—she redefines the mat.
