I’m not sure anyone predicted the national joy that this summer’s Olympic Games kicked off but I, for one, am thrilled. As a lifelong Olympic geek, I am more than happy to share my wagon as folks join the conversation that often starts with, “Oh my God, did you see…” Sure, this year’s most popular finish to that question is “Snoop Dog?” and, while that was not on my Olympic bingo card, I’ll take it. So yes, I have seen Snoop Dog and I love what he has injected into the spirit of the games.
The Olympics take residence on my calendar years in advance. Winter, Summer, and (soon) ParaOlympics are weeks dedicated to eye strain as I stare at the broadcasts, read endless stories behind the stories, and watch highlight reels on repeat. This year, I added podcasts to my mix meaning that, even while not staring at something, I could still have my head in the games. I am used to life as an Olympic geek. This year, I have been thrilled to watch the population of my camp increase.
What is it about these 2024 Paris games that have caused so many others to lean into the experience?
Without any scientific studies, my view is that, after years of dreadful news cycles, the positivity of the Olympics and the uptick of sportsmanship arrived at the perfect moment. It’s no secret that morale in America has been on a yearslong downward trend causing an upward trend of icky behavior. Then we had those wonky opening ceremonies and we were, once again, united. Sure, yes, that feeling of “all for one” may have been born from a brand new round of conclusion jumping but, hey, at least we were getting our exercise with a focus on a brand new topic.
Why are the Olympics so different this year?
There are many theories but I’ll share the one that I think stuck the landing in my head.
It is a theory that can easily be traced back to the Covid games of Tokyo 202021.
Find an athlete who competed in both Tokyo and Paris and you will find an athlete who references their experience in Tokyo as both the reason they returned and the reason the competitive culture has done a 180. With no support units allowed in Tokyo, the games were awkward, deflating, and, in many cases, simply dreadful. While Simone Biles’ mental collapse has been well-documented, we have learned that she was not alone in the mental suffering kicked off by the Tokyo games.
To be clear, I do not blame Tokyo for this at all. Hosting an Olympics where the only attendees were the athletes and a sprinkle of coaches had to be devastating after years of preparation for a “normal” event. Pivoting from crowd control to Covid control probably caused organizers to whisper-ask, “What if we just take a do-over in a few years and skip this one?” It seems that many participating athletes would have liked the same.
Imagine arriving at an event you dedicated your entire life to…alone.
No family.
Limited coaching staff.
No friends.
Empty stands.
All of the ingredients that got you there, Finally! I’m an Olympian!, left behind while masks, social distancing, and the anxiety of endless Covid tests took priority over the actual competitions.
It’s no wonder that so many of these Tokyo Olympians vowed to return in 2024. It’s no wonder that others hung up their gear immediately after returning home.
So how did that Tokyo experience enhance the Paris experience?
As those Tokyo Olympians were fighting for their mental lives they began to lean on each other. They reached beyond their countries’ rosters to lift each other up and bring whatever normalcy they could to a very abnormal moment. This planted the seeds of friendships that would quickly form intense bonds that would remain long after the conclusion of those games.
It was a bond that grew even deeper as those athletes who vowed to try for Paris faced a frenzied, shortened Olympic cycle. While the loss of a year between Olympics may not seem like a big deal to the couch potato (me), for high-level athletes it was a very big deal as the year lost was also the year that would typically be dedicated to resting bodies beaten down by the intense training that takes place just before the games. That missing year has been blamed for endless injuries (Exhibit A).
Many of the athlete interviews from Paris reference time in Tokyo and how it injected a desire for the real Olympic experience. Those same interviews often include blurbs about how Tokyo created a shift in how they view their competition and how rivalries were tossed aside in favor of reliance on each other. Tokyo’s empty stands, desolate dining halls, and abandoned athlete villages created blanket loneliness at a time when happiness should have been high.
Created from that awful isolation? Friendship. Respect. Honor. Support.
There have already been dozens of stories written about moments of sportsmanship that took our breath away. There will likely be dozens more to come as the stories from the games continue to develop. In a typical Olympic year, we talk about gold-medal performances. This year, the winners have taken a back seat as we talk about moments between athletes that bring tears to our eyes.
We watched as a handball player got carried off the field by an opposing team member after an injury.
We watched the three medal-winning women’s rugby teams intermingle for that final group picture rather than remain separated by country.
We watched athletes bow down to medalists out of deep respect and acknowledgment of the struggle to get there.
We watched a nerdy guy with an eye condition have the moment of his life.
We watched an Australian breakdancer, well, I’m not really sure how to describe that one.
We watched the selfie of the games as athletes from China, South Korea, and North Korea leaned into each other for the photo.
We watched a badminton medalist carry the flag of her opponent to the podium to offer encouragement after an injury.
We watched, over and over, as athletes have consoled opponents in moments when things didn’t go well, preferring to recognize another’s anguish before celebrating their own success.
And, of course, we have watched Snoop Dog having the best time ever in the weirdly most relatable way.
As I write this, that dreadful closing ceremony is peeking around the corner. I’m not saying the actual ceremony will be dreadful (though by now, we’ll know) but, as the end of the games approaches, I’m already feeling a bit deflated knowing that life will be relegated back to its regular programming. I fall into a post-Olympic funk after the games. While I typically look back on a highlight reel packed with gold-medal performances, this year will be different. This year, it will be the joy that those stories behind the stories have offered.
The friendships, the respect, the tributes to the struggle.
This year, I have prepared for the post-Olympic funk by booking a flight to Walt Disney World.
I hope Snoop Dog is there.
Read more about this year’s amazing moments here..or do a quick browser search to enter the rabbit hole.