I write to you now in the midst of an important time. Much has been made of these quadrennial two weeks already. Grandiose, sentimental statements have been made by TV personalities across the NBC family of networks and by random people across Facebook. And I shall not refute them. Yes, the coverage is probably a bit over the top and a bit cheesy. And yes, I think monitoring the heart rates of parents watching their children compete is taking things a bit too far. But I shall not attempt an ounce of deflation where the Olympics are concerned. I like them a lot and that is simply that.

It’s rare in this time to see genuine human emotion on TV or online. We are all schooled to perform a certain degree, being so used to being filmed as we are. And yet I find the Olympics just as moving as they ever were. I’m used to watching spectacle and promotional montages on TV—I am, however, not yet numb to a twenty-year-old from Belgium crying in the arms of her friends and family after winning the Bronze medal in women’s 70kg judo. At this I do genuinely tear up.

Despite the beautiful vision of bringing people from all over the world together, the Olympics will of course not solve all of our global issues. They will not even fully unify our country. But it’s wild to expect a country of our size to be united—which makes it all the more moving that we can root for someone we know nothing about other than that they’re representing the US.

(The size of our country also makes me feel less bad about how many athletes we bring (594 compared to, say, Austria’s 81) because at least by square miles we’re really about half a dozen countries. If someone wants to do a medal count comparing, say, New England with other countries I’d be very curious.)

Anywho, you may have heard that this year’s games mark the 100th anniversary of the last time that Paris hosted. In 1924, 44 nations came to Paris to compete in 126 events (compared to this year’s 204 countries and 329 events).

Those Games included some events we’re familiar with—real classics like fencing and swimming and equestrian. Some that were discontinued—like (horse) polo, rope climbing, and tandem cycling. And some that were discontinued and then brought back—here’s to you, rugby.

In 1924, women did not compete in gymnastics or track and field, but there was mixed doubles tennis. The American duo Dick Williams and Hazel Virginia Wightman took home the gold and get an award from me for “1920’s Names That Make You Say, ‘Of Course They’re From the Twenties.’” Even back then, the US was dominant (99 medals, the runner up was France with 41).

And the 1924 Paris games are of course probably most famous for being the Eric Liddell/Chariots of Fire Olympics. But what will the 2024 edition be remembered for? 

An opening ceremony made up of a parade of boats on the Seine? 

South Sudan’s incredible success in basketball despite not having a single indoor court in the entire country?

Perhaps the beginning of a new era of Belgian dominance in Judo or American passion for rugby?

The US 3×3 basketball player who has the guts to shoot free throws granny style?

Simone Biles cementing her position as the greatest of all time?

The NBA player who is living his Olympic dreams after switching to beach volleyball?

Or any of an infinite number of possibilities lying ahead in next week’s competitions. 

We’re halfway through and there’s no way to predict any of the rises or falls the final week will bring. It’s not a perfect time but it’s a great time. And I hope everyone watching the 2124 Paris Olympic Games agrees. 

(I bet they’ll have laser tag.)

Christina Ribbens

Christina Ribbens (’19) studied history, studio art, and data science at Calvin and public humanities at Georgetown. She now lives in the part of Virginia that’s almost Washington, DC where she helps award grants to arts nonprofits. She takes a lot of walks to admire the landscaping in peoples’ front yards, mostly listens to British comedians’ podcasts, and likes to make friends via sports.