Anja Niedringhaus / AP

Just because the public is dissapointed in Bode Miller doesn't mean he is, writes Jim Litke.

Given the way Miller’s Olympics have gone, I wondered why the mounting pressure and all the advice — from family, friends, media, coaches — hadn’t convinced him to do something, anything, to change his luck. I pointed out some golfers change their approach in the middle of a four-round tournament; some get aggressive, some pull back.

“Some guys might change things up, but some guys don’t,” Miller said. “Look at Phil Mickelson. He’s virtually all risk, all the time. If you’re unhappy with the way you played, what’s the point?”

I didn’t have the heart to remind him that Mickelson went 0-for-42 in golf’s majors before winning the 2004 Masters, largely because Lefty couldn’t resist trying to make the most heroic (and lowest percentage) shot in all the wrong situations.

Good thing, too, because the next thing that came out of Miller’s mouth proved it would have been a waste of breath.

“If things went well, I could be sitting on four medals,” he said, “maybe all of them gold.”

No doubt Mickelson left plenty of tournaments feeling the exact same way.

Miller, who already owns two silver medals from the Salt Lake City Olympics four years ago, gets his final chance at a medal of any color in Saturday night’s slalom race. If that was worrying him, there was no way to tell. The RV where Miller lives with a pal who does the cooking came into view, just down the road.

“Bet you’re up to here with us,” I said, referring to reporters.

“I use the media as much as they use me,” Miller said. “The reason I quit now, why I haven’t talked to anybody else all day, is because I don’t really see any benefit in it.”

Which means I probably owe him one.