Nothing can match the most famous Greek tragedy in history: the Olympic Games. The victories are always immense; the defeats, heartbreaking. There are those who were expected and who came, the McIntoshes and the Marchands of this world, who soar above all the others.
There are also those we didn’t expect. I’m thinking of Quebec gymnast Sophiane Méthot, who was awarded a bronze medal thanks to the best performance of her life on the trampoline. Or those from unlikely countries, like Marileidy Paulino who, by breaking the world record in the 400 meters, became the first Dominican woman to win gold at the Games.
And there are those who break down in front of millions of viewers. The French and Australian rugby players, beaten in turn by the surprising Canadian team, were inconsolable. They were supposed to win, but they lost, and the moment may never come again.
Because that is the greatest tragedy of the Games. For athletes accustomed like us to living in a world of instantaneity, they only come around every four years. The cycle is so long and relentless that missing or succeeding at the Games can change everything in an athlete’s life.
Winning a medal can open doors to sponsors, make you a media star, give you a career as an analyst or speaker. It is understandable that athletes who are somewhat in the shadows cling to the possibility of a medal as if it were a professional lifeline.
I remember a Quebec athlete who, after participating in the Montreal Games, fell into a deep depression. Like many athletes, he could not define himself as a human being in any other way, dependent on the adrenaline rushes of competition. It is even more difficult to break away from a team sport, where teammates become members of a big family. This observation puts the disarray of the French and Australian women’s rugby players into further perspective.
But victory is no antidote to the blues either. Even with the silver medal around their necks, will the players of the Canadian rugby team be able to fill the post-Olympic void? To put it another way: is there life after sport for these athletes?
Sacrifices
There are countless testimonies from athletes who say they regret their sporting careers, which began too early and to which they sometimes sacrificed their youth. Others have simply lost faith in the Olympic ideal, criticizing the omnipresence of politics, money, doping and a thousand and one defects that corrupt this ideal.
We cannot, of course, ignore the many scandals that have shaken the International Olympic Committee over the years, nor turn a blind eye to the inflation of costs, attributable among other things to the security issue. The financing of the Games has become so problematic that it discourages many cities from applying. Will the success of the Paris Games, held at a relatively reasonable cost, reverse this trend?
But back to the athletes. Their challenge is all the greater because few of them will get their hands on the famous, coveted medal. Ironically, in a society that despises ” losers ” and cultivates the phobia of failure, Olympic athletes expose themselves like no one else. It’s hard to hide a defeat when you’ve just had your worst result of the year in an event.
Humility
The line between victory and defeat is very thin at the Olympic Games. You can have been beating your opponents for years and arrive on D-Day with a nasty cold or a sneaky little injury, and everything falls apart. Or chance makes you meet the only opponent likely to beat you, and this, in the first round. Luck, whether we like it or not, is omnipresent at the Games and forces athletes to a necessary humility.
This modesty and generosity in effort is what should inspire us more than anything in these exceptional athletes.
Moreover, whether they are medalists or not, whether they return triumphant or a little bitter from their competitions, athletes can all claim this incomparable achievement: they are part of a tiny minority of people who have reached this holy grail of sport: the Olympic Games.
In itself, it is a remarkable feat. Let us hope that the French or Australian rugby players remember it. Only time will be able to remind them of this incomparable pride of being able to say: “Paris 2024, I was there.” That is the essential point.