Why the reverberating impact of Olympics games on us?

THE Tokyo 2020 Olympics came to an end in a dramatic fashion. The United States had a last gasp push to surpass China in the medal tally, and our own Datuk Muhammad Azizulhasni bin Awang came home posting Malaysia’s best performance in his game with a silver.

As the sports extravaganza came to a close, one may question what is the appeal of the Olympic Games that we have suddenly come to watch, and take notice of some sports which we barely even knew, much less cared about.

The primary reason is the scarcity – once every four years – one chance, one shot. Some athletes such as swimmers are in a way more fortunate.

They get to participate across several different events in a single sport. Even if they have an errant performance, they still have the liberty to shrug it off and come back stronger. Michael Phelps, who participated in over 30 competitions across five Olympics games, would be the best example.

However, not all are as fortunate; in rhythmic gymnastics, no gymnast has been on the top step of the podium after a mistake – the current champion made one mistake – and the dream of an Olympic gold is all but gone. Margarita Mamun, the Rio 2016 gold medallist in rhythmic gymnastics retired almost right after the Olympics at the age of 22.

In sports like gymnastics, most athletes will have one shot at Olympic glory, no more. For those in dominant countries where qualifying for the Olympics can be even tougher than the Olympics itself, the pressure, and thus the prize is even greater. The rarity of the achievement makes it all the more precious.

Now, there remains a more visceral element to the significance of the Olympics. In some inexplicable way, we connect to the athletes, we resonate with their emotions.

Many of us have played one sport or another throughout our life. Deep down in our hearts, many of us still have a passion burning to excel at a sport, which we may have played years or even decades ago.

When we see athletes going all out and winning, we share their exhilaration and relief that their efforts have come to fruition; when we see them just falling short, we commiserate with them, share in their frustration and disappointment.

While it may not be reflected in the records, for those of us who watched it live, Datuk Lee Chong Wei’s three silver is by no means less impactful than if he were to have got gold.

I believe the moments of tears, frustration and dejection is cast clear in our memories when he fell just short for the last time on the greatest stage on earth once again.

However, it is the collective spirit of the Olympics that is the most noteworthy. For athletes, being part of a national contingent, instead of being the sole – or one of few – athlete going to a competition brings a different implication.

They don the national flag, sport a suit with national symbolism, and if they were to trump in competitions, watch their national flag flown and broadcasted across the globe.

After winning silver, Slovak golfer Rory Sabbatini said, “It’s different when you’re representing other people and not just yourself.” This sentiment is echoed throughout the Olympics. This spirit extends to the people as well.

After a few messy days of politics, the citizens of Malaysia were able to come together to celebrate our first medal in this game. The younger generation would open their Instagram and be flooded with stories celebrating the achievements of our national athletes with national jubilation.

We are reminded once again that though we are different, our similarities outweigh our differences.

Once again, congratulations to our Malaysian athletes. At the end of the day, trying hard, playing it clean and giving your all are what encompasses the Olympic spirit, and that we achieved.

For viewers, fans and sports enthusiasts, fret not, Beijing 2022 Winter Olympics is just a paltry 179 days away.

Jack Lee