Passing of the Torch

From the Department of Mythology & Fairy Tales

Written by Intern 33

There is a familiar scene in movies with a resistance theme where old and young both come together to take up arms and fight a common enemy. A bugle sounds, or a conch shell, or stretched hide drums are pounded, and old men and women emerge in their dated armor from their Keebler elf trees and moss-roofed cottages in the shire to stand side by side with the strapping, energetic, youthful members of their society. In the more quant, cartoon versions of this tale, woodland creatures with their makeshift forest weaponry fill in the lines as well. Rabbits with sharpened carrots, turtles that are also ninjas, squirrels with projectile acorns. Staring into the distance at the all-important task in from of them.

This is an Olympic year. Blow the conch.

It has been said that sport is about the marking and passing of time. Happening once every 4 years, and carrying the lopsided importance that it does, the Olympic Games mark the beginning and ending of eras within the sport. The rise and fall, dominance and decline of champions. We refer to specific time periods within the sport as Olympic cycles. The Olympic Games, although drawing on the mystique and reputation of the ancient games, are only 128 years old. The Penn Relays predate the Olympics by 1 year. I was lucky enough to know 2 of my great grandmothers who were both born in 1906. At the time of their birth, there had only been 2 modern Olympic Games. An entire sporting history had yet to occur. The Olympic system, although viewed as the pinnacle of the sport is one rooted in amateurism, and the effects of it remain, good and bad. It is a meet with an all-comers spirit. Anyone who enters an all-comers meet and achieves an Olympic Trials qualifying standard (and then Olympic standard or sufficient world ranking) can then compete to make the Olympic team. This dangling carrot is what entices young and old to grab their chosen footwear and implements and give it a shot. Right now, people are beginning training, embarking on a quixotic journey they hope will end in Eugene, and possibly even Paris.

Looking down the results sheets of past games, there are names seen in one year and then not seen 4 years later although their career could have spanned 7. In the US Olympic Trials this summer, you will see names of people that surely you thought were from a previous generation. This will happen more often the younger you are. To the older folks, there will be a feeling of “are you sure they’ve been around that long?”

This will very likely be the first Olympic Trials since 2004 without Allyson Felix, and without Jenny Simpson (Simpson is running the marathon trials). I say very likely because the gravitational pull of the event is strong, it is not out of the realm of possibility that they or even 47-year-old Abdi Abdirahman could be sucked back in (word on the smooth streets of the Magic Kingdom is he has been and will line up in Orlando. He competed in the 10,000m in Sydney 24 years ago).

Sara Hall competed in the 2004 Trials on the track, and will compete 20 years later in the marathon trials.

For athletes like Matthew Centrowitz and Emma Coburn, 2024 will mark an attempt to make their 4th Olympic teams… and also Evan Jager, whose now 12 year relationship with steeplchase began in 2012.

Galen Rupp (marathon) will attempt to make his 5th Olympic team. His first spot was achieved in 2008 when he placed second in the 10,000m trials race to 32-year-old Abdi Abdirahman.

Molly Huddle, and Steph Bruce (marathon this year) competed in the Olympic Trials in 2008 and will do so again 16 years later. Sydney McLaughlin was 8 years old in 2008 and Graham Blanks and Erriyon Knighton were 5. It is possible that there will be a 16-year-old competing in this year’s Olympic Trials like Syd the kid did back in 2016.

These things happen. People spring up from the ground and drop from the trees. Prior to 2008, no one outside of the squirrels in Jeff Johnson’s New Hampshire library thought the 20-year-old grinning green giant, Andrew Wheating would make the team. Heading into the Olympic year, he had run 1:50 and 3:45. He ended up running 1:45 and cramming into an economy seat to Beijing. New eras will begin.

This will be the final Olympics for some of the most decorated American track athletes of all time. It will also be the first Olympics for some who may one day attain that status. Even if they do not, they will at least come to dominate an era. We may not even know their names yet, but eventually they will be common knowledge to us, and we will forget that there was a time when what they are going to achieve seemed unlikely. Just like the Olympics were once a novel festival without a lineage this side of the common era.

There will be surprising upsets and continued reigns of dominance. We will see the best that athletes in the arena have to give. The 3 years in between Olympiads are largely a work in progress, somewhere in-between workshop and waiting room. The Olympics currently are the time and place where legacies are written. Athletes will make their names known to the sport’s fanbase, and their achievements will be seen by the broader world. Some will break the membrane and become real world famous. Watch their Instagram numbers jump, and in turn, their influencer/marketing power. The old guys will say: “put them on a Wheaties box!” and the kids will say: “give them $20,000 (a bag) per instagram post about Wheaties!”

We’ll say: “give them a share of the broadcast revenue!” and ask that marble statues be carved and placed in town squares where pigeons perch as we sit on park benches eating stale Wheaties recalling feats of the past and dreaming about the future. The common opponent has always been time. Some feel it more than others.