Who could have watched the Olympics over the past two weeks and not looked within oneself and found oneself wanting?
I’ve been awe-struck by the competitors. Impressed beyond belief by their skill, dedication, and how much they must have sacrificed to get there. And scared for them too, because their drive will have caused them harm, and some of the sacrifices they have made may not have been worth it.
“I’m not crying because I’ve come second, I’m crying because it took so much to get here,” said Adam Peaty, Britain’s star breast-stroke swimmer, who missed out on gold in the men’s 100m breaststroke by a heartbreaking two hundredths of a second.
Peaty, who has spoken openly about his battles with mental health said, “I’m an older man here now. I can’t have that relentless pursuit every single day without a sacrifice of some sort. That sacrifice can come in many ways. It can come in time, it can come in energy, it can come in relationships. It comes in every single form.”
Who didn’t brush away a tear watching the great Andy Murray exit elite sport’s beautiful, savage stage?
Invented by the ancient Greeks in 776 BC when they were held as part of a religious festival at Olympia, the games have no doubt stood the test of time because they show our beautiful, majestic, flawed human condition in all its glory and frailties.
Excellence, determination, hunger for victory, loss and triumph. All of human life is here, and all of its complications, as we saw with the awful showdown in the boxing match between Angela Carini and Imane Khelif, who has been banned from competing in women’s titles by the International Boxing Association. In a highly charged scene at the North Paris Arena where Carini was struck by multiple powerful blows, she surrendered after just 46 seconds and fell to her knees sobbing. “It’s not fair,” she said, “It’s not fair.” Has life been fair for Khelif either; is it ever?
Scenes of amazing human drama like this have united us all at a time of national friction as we gather around televisions and cheer on athletes who we’ve often never heard of.
And those of whom over the years we have become familiar with, and fond.
Who wouldn’t cheer for star gymnast Simone Biles, who, after a troubled last Olympics in Tokyo has, on what she describes as her “redemption tour”, won a stunning three gold medals in Paris; as she teaches us that it’s possible to dazzle sometimes, and sometimes you fail, too.
Or the pathos of watching Brit hero Andy Murray’s glittering career draw to a close on Thursday as he and Dan Evans were knocked out in the Olympic men’s doubles quarter-finals. Who didn’t brush away a tear to watch the two-time Olympic champion, three-time Grand Slam champion, former world No 1 and arguably Britain’s greatest ever athlete exit elite sport’s beautiful, savage stage?
“Dreams do come true, if only we wish hard enough. You can have anything in life if you will sacrifice everything else for it,” said JM Barrie.
For me, that’s what the Olympics celebrates. The decision to dedicate everything in your entire life to that one three-minute swimming race. And although it’s not a choice most of us would make, and not one I would do myself or recommend to my children, you have to applaud the romanticism of it.
Most of us understand the equation and decide to go in a different direction. What an incredible privilege it is to watch these superhumans in Paris who choose instead to try, and risk it all.
