“They’ve done their best to position him as the front-runner, and I will let him take that title and run with it,’’ says Lysacek, who will be the first American competing in the Games as world champion since Scott Hamilton in 1984. “I’ll just keep working and keep the smile on my face.’’

As it is, there’s ample weight upon any reigning global king coming to Olympus. The last six - Stephane Lambiel, Evgeni Plushenko, Elvis Stojko, Kurt Browning (twice), and Brian Orser - all failed to win the gold.

That jinx, though, hasn’t applied to the US titlists. Dick Button, Hayes Alan Jenkins, David Jenkins, and Hamilton all went on to coronation at the Games. Whether that increases or lessens the burden on this particular incumbent is unclear.

“I am not naive,’’ says Lysacek, who is favored to become the first domestic men’s victor in six years at Skate America, which begins today in Lake Placid, N.Y. “I don’t think because I won the world championship that I’m unbeatable.’’

It didn’t work that way in Beijing last month, when Lysacek was upended by Japan’s Nobunari Oda at the Cup of China on Halloween. Nor did it at last season’s national championships in Cleveland, where Lysacek went in as two-time defending champion and finished third.

The day when judges could prop up the favorite with generous artistic marks under the old 6.0 scoring model vanished with the more complex calculation system that grades every jump, spin, and step.

“It’s getting a little bit more strategic, less predictable, and the results are varying,’’ says Lysacek, who has performed under both formats. “If you’re the favorite and you don’t skate well, you’re not going to still win. That mentality is completely gone. The best skaters are coming out on top.’’

If Lysacek feels the pressure of expectation, it’s from knowing that he can be the best because he has been. And if he feels bullish about his Olympic chances, it may be because he reached the top after a decade of carnival-ride ups and downs.

“I have all of the strength from all these experiences I’ve gone through for my entire career,’’ says the 24-year-old Lysacek, who has been at the competitive game since he was 10. “That might be where I stand ahead of the other guys who are newer or have had consistent rises and haven’t had the slopes that I’ve gone through.’’

What he has come to appreciate is how random this slippery sport can be. Lysacek was sitting in fifth place after the short program in his global debut at the 2005 World Championships in Moscow. Then Plushenko withdrew when his besieged body rebelled, and Lysacek ended up with the bronze medal.

A year later at the Olympics in Turin, Lysacek was weakened by a stomach bug the day before the short program and had to be rehydrated intravenously. When his moment came, impatience and adrenaline did him in.

“I couldn’t wait to get on the ice,’’ said Lysacek, who fell on his opening triple axel, doubled a triple flip, and found himself buried in 10th place. “I kept looking at my watch. I ran out of the gate like a racehorse.’’

Lysacek reined himself in for the long program, submitted a superb skate, and ended up a creditable fourth.

“The Olympics isn’t about being perfect,’’ he concluded. “It’s about courage and putting yourself on the line.’’

Lysacek understood more fully about putting himself on the line in 2008 when he was defending the national title that he’d taken from Johnny Weir, the first time in 72 years that a three-time champion had been dethroned. Coming in as the favorite was an unfamiliar position for him, and Lysacek was unnerved by it.

“I have so much praise for Johnny,’’ he said then. “I don’t know how he’s done this three times. I give him amazing props.’’

Lysacek prevailed on a tiebreaker after he and Weir had deadlocked to two decimal places, but he easily could have been beaten and he knew that.

Last season Lysacek was defeated not only by Jeremy Abbott but also by Brandon Mroz, an 18-year-old just up from juniors.

“I wasn’t tired, I wasn’t winded,’’ said Lysacek, who crashed on his opening quadruple jump and stepped out of his triple axel combination. “I was just kind of wobbly, I guess.’’

Only Todd Eldredge had claimed the world crown without having won the US title and Lysacek had to come out of second place after the short program to manage it. But as soon as he took the ice for the free skate at Staples Center, just up the road from his El Segundo, Calif., training rink, Lysacek put himself into a performing trance to quell his nerves.

“It took that for me to stay calm,’’ he recalls. “I was in my hometown, it was the Worlds before the Olympic year, so there was excitement and anxiety. To suppress all that took every ounce of energy in my body.’’

As his Gershwin-themed program went on and the tuxedoed Lysacek realized that everything was crisp and clean, he eased out of his hyper-focus, let things flow and began playing to the audience, “because I wanted to enjoy and remember that moment.’’

Lysacek held off Chan and former champion Brian Joubert and became the first American atop the podium since Eldredge in 1996.

“It wasn’t just a goal of mine to be the best in the world,’’ he said, “it was a dream.’’

Lysacek did a bit of celebratory touring, a few promotions, and some charity work, then went back to the rink to begin anew.

“I felt that I had a good performance in LA, but of course I came home to training and my coach [Frank Carroll] had a three-page list of improvements that needed to be made immediately,’’ he said. “So it was right back to the drawing board.’’

Carroll, who coached Linda Fratianne, Michelle Kwan (twice), and Tim Goebel to Olympic medals, refuses to let his pupils labor under illusions. If jumps are under-rotated, spins are sloppy, footwork awkward, he’s quick to supply a cold dash of reality.

“When he tells you something, he’s not lying,’’ says Lysacek. “If he tells you that you need to lose weight, he’s not lying. If he tells you you need to do another long, he’s not lying. You trust him.’’

If he wants to win in Vancouver, Lysacek has to bring his A game, just as he did in Los Angeles. That was where the strength that came from failure made for success.

“It still feels surreal to me,’’ skating’s king of the moment confessed before a new season commenced. “I’m having to pinch myself in a variety of situations I never thought I’d be in. I feel blessed.’’

John Powers can be reached at jpowers@globe.com.