Au revoir, Paris. Thomas Bach, the president of the International Olympic Commitee (IOC), was pouring the syrup hard when he said on Friday that “the 2024 Paris Olympics is a love story. The athletes, the French people, and the fans all around the world are in love with the Games and with each other.”
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But even the most hardened cynic must admit: Bach sort of has a point. These were joyous Games. The first post-pandemic Olympics seemed to fill every venue with enthusiastic fans. Everything from morning table tennis and fencing, to evening gymnastics and track and field, swimming, and judo, drew near- capacity crowds. The celebrities came out in force, too, because why not? It’s Paris.
Officials with Paris 2024 made much of their plan to use existing—and iconic—facilities as sporting venues.Olympic events tend to take place in uninspired arenas or conference facilities—you’ve seen one, you’ve pretty much seen them all. That definitely wasn’t the case at these Games. From fencing under the ornate and breathtaking dome of the Grand Palais, to marathon swimming in the Seine, which started under the magnificent Pont Alexandre III bridge with its Beaux-Arts details of gold-covered winged horses and cherubs, not to mention a view of the Eiffel Tower, to equestrian events at Versailles and a boxing ring installed on a court at Roland Garros, locations were almost as much a draw as the sports themselves.
Olympic pin-trading, that hokiest of traditions, returned with vengeance. Lanyards were full. Back home in the U.S., early viewership trumped that of Tokyo by 79%, according to a report shared by NBC on July 31.
The start was auspicious: an arson attack disrupted train travel on the day of the opening ceremony, which was drenched in rain. But then, as usual, the athletes owned the headlines. Simone Biles soared. Leon Marchand stoked cafes across France. Swimmers plunged into the Seine and survived. Paris proved itself a more-than-worthy host: venues abutted breathtaking landmarks, and an efficient metro system shuttled people from sport-to-sport. Or people could just amble along diagonal, cobblestone streets to reach their destination. That ain’t happening in L.A., the site of the next summer Olympics.
A gender controversy overshadowed the women’s boxing events—Bach and the IOC could have thwarted much of what one boxer called bullying of athletes by articulating clear eligibility policies for competition, rather than leave an opening for the International Boxing Association to come to Paris to overshadow the competition. And as unctuous as the IBA proved to be, their leaders made a fair point about IOC grift that has remained a stain on the Olympic movement: why, exactly, do members receive five-star accommodation and ludicrous per diems while many athletes struggle to survive?
And why did the IOC appear to choose pettiness before naming Salt Lake City host of the 2034 Olympics, holding Utah officials over the coals because American anti-doping authorities had the gall to question the authority of a global testing authority that cleared China of cheating?
Power imbalances and rank injustices should never be forgotten when evaluating any Olympics. But that still leaves room for pure wonder: the entire point of play. Job well done, Paris. Here’s what we’ll remember most.
The ol’ Canadian umbrella save
As everyone knows, it rained at the opening ceremony A lot. And this “prepared” journalist didn’t bring an umbrella (forecast did not call for the downpour that ensued). And if there were ever a ceremony where you wanted to be protected from the elements, it was this one. I was stationed on a bridge and had a world-class view of all of the boats containing athletes floating down the Seine. That was a definite highlight and something I’ll never forget.
But equally meaningful to me is the generosity of a Canadian couple from Toronto who talked to me about why they decided to attend this Olympics, and in particular the historic opening ceremony. As the heavens opened with a steady downfall, they insisted that I borrow one of their umbrellas—they were clearly better prepared than I was. They saved not only me, but more importantly, my computer, from drowning in the rain. That’s what I love about the Olympics—it brings people from all over the world together to focus on our commonalities rather than our differences.—Alice Park
Vaulting into history
Right before Mondo Duplantis of Sweden made his third attempt at breaking his own pole vault record of 6.24 m, with more than 70,000 fans at the State de France egging him on, I had pretty much lost hope. He missed his two previous attempts, and to the naked eye, looked a little worn out from trying. I was standing behind a section filled with Swedish fans and Duplantis’ family, to try to document the excitement of the moment. I started thinking the walk from media seating wasn’t worth it.
So when Duplantis cleared the bar, I couldn’t believe it. I shook the shoulder of a stranger to my left. He didn’t seem to mind. Journalists aren’t supposed to cheer at sporting events. Unless it’s for their story. Mondo’s moment was the story.—Sean Gregory
Simone, Simone, Simone
The most decorated gymnast of all time, Simone Biles had a number of memorable performances at this Olympics, but one stands out for me. In the qualification round, a nervous U.S. team started on beam, the least popular apparatus on which to debut when your nerves are frazzled and the pressure of an Olympic Games is weighing heavily on you. Her two teammates both had uncharacteristic falls or wobbles on the beam, and Biles was up last. By the time she competed, other gymnasts on other events in the arena had finished their routines and she was the only one competing. All 10,000 or so people in the arena fell silent and everyone was zeroed in on Biles’ 4 ft. 8 in. frame on the 4 in.-wide beam. Under all that pressure, Biles nailed her front mount, her wolf turn, and the rest of her routine, including the double-double dismount that’s named after her. It calmed the jittery U.S. squad and propelled the team to qualify first for the team competition, in which they won gold. That’s why she’s the GOAT. —A.P.
What is happening?
Olympics journalists often map out a day-by-day plan of events to cover, and profiles to write, before flying from their homes to the Games. Then they rip it up.
Paris was no different: I hadn’t marked down “cover rogue boxing press conference” on my calendar. On Aug. 5, the IBA held a media gathering at Le Salon des Miroirs—there were indeed mirrors, and cracked ceilings—to supposedly offer proof that Algeria’s Imane Khelif and Chinese Taipei’s Lin Yu-Ting failed gender eligibility tests at the women’s world boxing championships in New Delhi in 2023. No documentation, however, was proffered; nor was any semblance of a point of this exercise, really. Proceedings were delayed an hour because of supposed technical difficulties (no official explanation was given). A German reporter screamed about how officials were already wasting our time, and no one disagreed. Once IBA president Umar Kremlev appeared on a big screen via remote connections, behind other IBA officials present in the flesh, no one could hear him (was he muted on Zoom?). And once Kremlev started talking, he rambled and rambled—about the supposed pagan nature of the opening ceremony, about the IOC—not the IBA—being corrupt, about the IBA’s role as a progressive beacon of women’s rights (all IBA suits present were men).
He did not offer a shred of sympathy for the online bullying Khelif and Yu-Ting had to deal with. When asked by TIME if he’d like to offer them a message, he returned to a rules-are-rules canard, and then noted that the athletes had high testosterone levels, “like a man.”
People left early. Is the table tennis venue nearby? Let’s go cover ping-pong instead. —S.G.
Bronze medal or no bronze medal?
It wasn’t one of the best moments, but it’s likely to be a precedent-setting one and debated for years to come. The women’s gymnastics floor exercise final generated tons of drama and heart. Team USA’s Jordan Chiles finished fifth, but after her coaches filed an inquiry about how her score was calculated, her score was changed and she bumped up to third, earning a bronze medal. During the ceremony, Chiles and Biles created one of the more viral moments of the Games, bowing to gold medalist Rebeca Andrade from Brazil to recognize her achievements in the sport.
But the Romanian Gymnastics Federation, whose gymnasts finished in fourth and fifth, contested the change in Chiles’ difficulty score, saying that Chiles and her coach had submitted the inquiry past the one minute deadline for accepting them. The organization proposed that the bronze medal be shared. After the case bounced between the Court of Arbitration for Sport, the International Gymnastics Federation, and the IOC, the IOC reverted Chiles’ score to the original one and concluded that she needs to return the medal.
That’s right, she has to return the medal—after the so-called final scores were posted, and after officials hung the medal around her neck. Her teammates and many in the gymnastics community immediately cried foul, noting that the fault lay with the judges who accepted the initial inquiry and did not inform Chiles’ coach that she was past the accepted time for submitting it. Chiles became the target of attacks on social media, and went dark on her accounts, saying it was for her mental health. Mistakes were clearly made, but it seems those paying the price for them are the gymnasts rather than the officials who made them. —A.P.
Baggin’ it
On a trip to Lille to cover the U.S.-Serbia men’s basketball opener, I packed an overnight bag with many essential toiletries and supplies, especially an asthma inhaler I’d been using nightly before bed to clear pathways bothered by allergies that decided to act up in France. The next morning, I took a high-speed train from Lille back to Paris then boarded a metro to Roland Garros, to snag a seat for the hottest ticket in town that day, the Novack Djokovic-Rafael Nadal second round tennis match. I did not want to leave the overnight bag unattended in a crowded media center, so I stuck it in a locker, and meant to set an alarm to remind myself not to leave it there before hopping in a cab to cover swimming that evening. Alas, I got distracted and forgot the alarm. While fueling up with some sushi in Nanterre, the Paris suburb that hosted swimming, I realized I forgot the bag.
A tiny panic set in. I could probably survive one evening without my stuff—and the inhaler—before going back to Roland Garros the next day. But Roland Garros is on the far west end of Paris. My hotel is on the far east side. A very annoying inconvenience and scheduling hiccup. But after filing the swimming piece at around 1:00 a.m., I looked at the media handbook: the Roland Garros media center, it said, was open until 3:00 a.m. I could cab back to Roland Garros to snag it! This information, however, was a fib. The tennis matches had long ended earlier that evening, and by the time I arrived back at the tennis complex, with middle of the night fast approaching, of course the gates were locked and barriers up.
This was Roland Garros. No one sneaks into Yankee Stadium at 2 a.m. Why would it happen in Paris, during an Olympics where security was out in full force?
But I saw an opening! A guard near a gate could let me in so I could just run to the door and retrieve the beg. I informed him of my predicament, but he told me the rules wouldn’t allow it. I begged. He got on a walkie-talkie. Next thing I know, another guard accompanied me to the abandoned-for-the-night media room. He guided me through the dark to the lockers, and used his flashlight to help me see the tiny numbers on the combo lock.
Bag retrieved, stress-levels settled. Merci to those two kind French gentlemen. We all need our gold-medal wins. That was mine.—S.G.
Seine swimming
It was an inspired idea. With Paris 2024’s emphasis on using existing and landmark locations to hold Olympic events, organizers decided to take advantage of one of the city’s most iconic features—the river Seine. Great in principle, but more challenging to execute in reality. Marathon swimming and the swimming portion of the triathlon took place there, but levels of bacteria continued to fluctuate above and below safe levels during the Olympics, forcing authorities to cancel training sessions. Athletes said that the uncertainty affected their ability to familiarize themselves with the river’s currents, making it difficult to strategize their races. Some racers became sick after their swims, although it’s not clear whether the Seine was to blame. And others admitted to seeing “brown things” and other detritus floating by during their swims. An inspired idea, but in the end probably one that seemed better on paper than in real life. —A.P.
The photo finish
Who won? Who knows? The showcase track-and-field race of the Olympic Games—the men’s 100 m, to crown the World’s Fastest Man—really came down to the wire at Stade de France on Aug. 4, as American Noah Lyles seemed pretty close to catching Kishane Thompson of Jamaica at the very last moment. Though to the naked eye, Thompson probably held on? Lyles thought so. “I think you got that one big dog,” Lyles told Thompson on the track, as officials decided the winner. He was never happier to be wrong. Lyles won, by .005 seconds, thanks to his torso.
Lyles’ Olympics took a surprise twist: he was diagnosed with COVID-19 and ran the 200 m under the weather, finishing third, before skipping the 4×100 relay. His opportunity to join the likes of Carl Lewis and Usain Bolt as Olympians who swept those events was lost. Overall, however, the Americans cleaned up at Stade de France: the U.S. track and field team won 14 gold medals, more than three-times its next closest competitor, Kenya (4). Its 34 total medals also more than tripled Kenya’s haul (11).
Back in the high life
Athletes say it’s hard to get to the top, but even harder to stay there. The U.S. women’s national soccer team knows that all too well. One of the most successful teams in the sport, with four World Cup wins and five Olympic golds, the team was eliminated in the round-of-16 at last year’s World Cup. Entering the Olympics, the women’s program did an about-face—hiring a new coach, Emma Hayes, and embracing a cadre of new, younger talent. The drastic changes paid off, as the women won their first Olympic gold since 2012. The word the players used most to describe their journey was “joy,” and trust in themselves and in Hayes, who had only coached nine games with the group before taking the pitch in Paris. “I’ve had a f’in blast,” she said of her short tenure that led to the gold.” And so have we, Emma, so have we. —A.P.
Quiet please!
Back to Roland Garros for a brief moment: that Nadal-Djokovic match was the Olympic event of the day, so media from around the world flocked to Court Philippe-Chatrier to take it in. There weren’t enough seats to accommodate the journalistic demand, so during the match, security officials swept the press row, kicking people out who had the improper credentials. This caused a comical level of squawking between reporters and the officers, so much so that I was stunned that the umpire didn’t look up in our direction and scream: “Shut up!”
Lesson: arrive early when two legends go at it.—S.G.
“Hell nah“
Any basketball fan has seen this before: Stephen Curry getting hot in a clutch moment, and hitting a flurry of long-range threes to give the Golden State Warriors a win. But witnessing Curry’s magic in the final three minutes of a tight Olympic final—Curry’s first—in Paris on Saturday, against a French-team primed for an upset in front of their raucous fans, was something else entirely. Curry sank four 3s in a row to keep Team USA ahead. But that last one, the step-back from another zip code over two French defenders with five seconds left on the shot clock, with a pair of teammates—who happen to be LeBron James and Kevin Durant—open on the other side of the floor… I posit that the words of two Curry Olympic teammates, Anthony Edwards of the Minnesota Timberwolves and Bam Adebayo of the Miami Heat, speak for all of us in that moment.
“Hell nah,” said Edwards.
“What the f–k?” said Adebayo.
Ohhhhhhhh!. Game over. Night Night.—S.G.
A dignified sisterhood
When boxer Imane Khelif arrived in Paris to fight her way to a gold, she wasn’t expecting she’d be dodging blows to her reputation as well. Khelif found herself at the center of a raging debate about whether she was eligible to compete at the Olympics as a woman. The International Boxing Association (IBA), which oversees the sport outside of the Olympics, would not allow her to box at its world championships last year, claiming that Khelif had failed eligibility tests. The claims made Khelif the subject of bullying—but it also made her a symbol of strength and dignity for Algerian women. They came out in droves to support Khelif during her semi-final and final bouts. I spoke to grandmothers, mothers, and their teenage daughters draped in Algerian flags who flooded the Roland Garros court where the medal matches were held. “She has been denigrated, and that is why it is important to support her,” said one fan. “She is a model for women.” After her win, which was the first medal for an Algerian woman in boxing, Khelif said of her critics: “I sent them a single message with this gold medal and I say my dignity and my honor is above everything.” —A.P.
Job well done, Paris. Here’s what we’ll remember most.