At the end, alone in the wrestling ring with his name ringing out from the stand, Mijaín López untied his boots and raised them to his lips. He placed them in the centre of the mat and walked away from his sixth Games as arguably the greatest Olympian of all time.
In winning the Greco-Roman wrestling title for an unprecedented fifth consecutive time only two weeks before his 42nd birthday, López has done what no other Olympian has achieved – and on a balmy night at the Champ de Mars Arena in Paris he made it look easy.
In his final gold medal bout he defeated his longtime training partner and one-time compatriot Yasmani Acosta Fernández 6-0, at one point lifting the enormous 130kg frame of his opponent off the mat entirely before launching the Chilean wrestler over his shoulder.
Acosta Fernández’s journey to silver is almost as remarkable as López’s path to gold. Now 36, he spent his wrestling career in the shadow of his country’s most legendary athlete, unable to compete for Cuba despite his extraordinary talent, because López – who first competed in Athens as a 21-year-old – always took the only spot available.
Consumed by frustration, he took a trip to Chile in 2015 and never returned. Instead he worked as a security guard while he applied to become a Chilean citizen, and began representing the South American nation in 2017, gaining full citizenship the following year.
“In Cuba, I was always behind him. I trained with him every day for nine years,” he said before these Games.
“I really appreciate him. But you have to understand the circumstances. I cried watching the Olympics, because I saw that there were many [athletes] whom I have already beaten. I left Cuba to achieve a dream. When someone leaves something to follow a dream he’s not a defector. I love Cuba so much, as well as Chile.”
Now Acosta Fernández has a silver medal, and if – like the man they call El Terrible – he can return to the next Games in his forties, the chance to win gold.
But at Paris 2024 – after more than two decades at the very pinnacle of his sport – that honour could only belong to López. The immense wrestler did not shed a tear, but celebrated by raising his fists to the sky before picking up his crying coach and slamming him lovingly into the mat.
Only then did he re-enter the ring, taking his time to unfasten his laces and hang up his boots for the final time. He may have entered the ring as a wrestler, but he left it an Immortal.
