Does it feel different? Rory McIlroy rolled his shoulders to settle into a now familiar pulse-taking stance. Time once again to assess the condition of his sport, of the Olympics and of the world they occupy. “I don’t know,” he replied as he paid deep consideration to the experience of his opening round and internally evaluated it against other golf tournaments.
Both hands unconsciously extended to the rail in front of him for support. He was not expecting this. “I mean I think the crowd support that we all got out there was amazing.
Obviously, there was a few more flags and a bit more, I don’t know what the word is...
nationalism. We were all really well supported out there.” There was no chance to ask how he felt about that graphic nationalism.
The mixed zone is a sort of controlled chaos that has no tolerance for coherent conversation. Topics shuffle along without any correlation to what came before. McIlroy was quickly asked about what club he used on the first and how the course played.
The game goes on. This was the 33rd modern Olympics. In many ways, it was the same as all other Olympics.
Every single element that makes sport a viable source of excitement for an astonishing portion of the global population has been concentrated into a wonderous two weeks in Paris. Those of us privileged enough to encounter the Games up close will cherish it for as long as we can. It will live long in the memories of obsessives, bandwagoners and each distinctive group in bet.