It was Juan Antonio Samaranch, the long-time Spanish IOC ringmaster, who would end each Olympic Games by declaring them the best ever — even when they patently weren't. The only exception was Atlanta 1996, so wretched that even dear old Juan Antonio dared not summon up the chutzpah to make them sound great. But wouldn't he have adored Paris 2024? Because he'd have known that time-honoured declaration would this time be met by acclamation.
For in dark times, these Games felt more than just an illuminating distraction. They were uplifting, daring, different, vibrant, thoroughly modern. They were fun.
They felt like just what we needed. A century on from its Chariots of Fire Games, it all began as the Boats of Rain Olympics, with a parade floating soggily - and according to some, sacrilegiously - down the Seine. Unbelievably ambitious, unbelievably unlucky with the weather, and yet ultimately triumphant.
Chapeau, Celine! Then the sun came out, the scale and ambition of the beautiful venues took the breath, and the sport lived up to the matchless settings. Thousands savouring the equestrian cross country at the Chateau de Versailles ..
. a Brazilian beach volleyball party beneath the Eiffel Tower ..
. BMX freestylers flying seemingly as high as La Concorde obelisk. What wasn't to like about this grandiose vision of Paris as a sporting playground for all, "Games Wide Open" as the slogan put it? These makeshift stadia built on iconic sites, made it feel that way.
If you didn't fanc.