“We relished the night, perched on the terrace of our on-loan flat in Rome, sharing the landlord’s remaining beer from the fridge. Deep into the night, our daughter, aged nine, was sound asleep, worn-out from the exhilarating experience at the Stadio Olimpico. We each filled up a glass and toasted to Ciara Mageean as the cicadas serenaded us from the encompassing trees.
There’s an irreplaceable aura that accompanies an athletics night. The previous Sunday, we found ourselves seated at the Curva Sud, situated at the tail end of the stadium, right behind the finish line. We bore witness to Rhasidat Adeleke and Sharlene Mawdsley earning their spots in the 400m final, as well as the disappointing near-miss for Sophie Becker and Chris O’Donnell. We observed the women’s high jump final, in front of us, where Ukraine’s Yaroslava Mahuchikh dominated with a 2.01m jump, surpassing Angelina Topić from Serbia.
Our focus, however, was on the magnificent Ciara Mageean. Remaining steady on the heels of the two British racers for three and a half laps, she waited patiently – a patience that we, from Row 19d, didn’t ourselves possess. When she found her opening and charged her way through, we were overcome with delight as she sprinted towards us. Eagerly, we rushed to the front to send her off on her victory lap.
The pure, unfiltered thrill of track and field is its biggest appeal. Whether youngsters or adults, we’re universally captivated. There’s no need to comprehend offside rules or rucks or distinguish between a birdie and a bogey. All we yearn for is the straightforward instinct to cheer on our athletes, imploring them to outperform.
This exhilaration has a ripple effect. Week after week, the Irish team puts forth commendable performances on the European stage, progressively captivating the nation. The rowing community must surely be bemused, considering their frequent accolades at the World Championship and European tournaments which don’t receive the same level of hype. There’s something uniquely enchanting about success in athletics.”
Events in Rome have undoubtedly paved the way for Paris. The Olympics is a mere six weeks away. More importantly, it’s potentially six weeks away from what may be the most triumphant Irish Olympics ever. It’s been quite some time since we celebrated an athletic medal win – the last one being awarded to Rob Heffernan in 2012 after his fourth-place position was elevated to a bronze medal due to a Russian doping scandal. The track hasn’t seen an Irish medal since Sonia O’Sullivan’s feat in Sydney in 2000. The tension and anticipation built up over the past week is surely taking things up a notch.
We should, however, tread lightly. In the midst of all this hustle and bustle, a humble tweet from tri-Olympian Natalya Coyle chimed in amongst the chaos.
She tweeted her conviction on Monday, prior to Adeleke’s individual final, “An intense evening lies ahead.” Coyle enlightened us on the extraordinary pressure her country, was placing on securing medals, the intensity of which she’d never seen before. She added, “Keyboard warriors, do remember that athletes are also humans with feelings.”
Being an illustrious Irish Olympian, Coyle’s words leave an impact. She’s represented Ireland in the complicated sport of Modern Pentathlon across three Olympic games – London, Rio, and Tokyo. She’s given celebrity status to a sport which was previously known to a select group of keen enthusiasts in Ireland, and brought it centre stage, showcasing her prowess at an international level.
Her track record is impressive – ninth in 2012, sixth in 2016 and coming close to a medal after the first two events in 2021. Sadly, her Olympic journey came to an abrupt end when a horse she had met only an hour before decided not to cooperate, resulting in a 24th place finish – a disappointing misrepresentation of her talent.
The importance of her tweet cannot be understated. Over the next few weeks, Irish Olympians and Paralympians will be faced with the highest level of competition they’ve ever experienced. While most of them may not be on our radar now and might disappear into obscurity post-September, for a brief period in July and August, they will step into the limelight of Irish sport where expectations are high. Yet, we must remember to manage these expectations and not burden them with incessant anticipation of medals.
We don’t need to look far to understand the potential harm caused by placing excessive emphasis on winning medals at the Olympics. The serious repercussions of such pressure can be gleaned from Team GB’s pursuit of medals at previous games, a narrative that is all too real. For instance, Rebecca Downie, a 32-year-old gymnast on her way to her third Olympics, recently made headlines discussing her inability to enter Lilleshall, the UK’s national gym training centre.
Downie revealed to the Daily Mail that she has been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder related to the centre, similar to the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Lilleshall, she says, is a significant trigger for her. The gymnast has been given permission to prepare at her home gym and steer clear of the training centre, a consideration she genuinely appreciates.
Such a situation is a grim reality for the world of sports. Regardless of the number of medals on offer, it’s egregious that an athlete heading to her third Olympics experiences PTSD triggered by thoughts of the institution that prepared her for the previous two games. The price paid is simply not worth it.
This argument is not an attempt to downplay the importance of victory or to suggest that participation should be our sole focus. This is top-tier athletics, and a lot is at stake. However, considering medals as the only measure of success does a massive injustice to the athletes.
For a deeper perspective on this issue, the Medals & Mics podcast can offer valuable insights. This honest and often hard-hitting conversation between Heffernan, Derval O’Rourke, and David Gillick provides a glimpse into the harsh realities faced by athletes as they strive to realise their dreams.
O’Rourke recounts a distinct memory of Cian O’Connor being immediately thrust into the limelight when their flight from Athens landed in Dublin, while everyone else was hurriedly ushered away. This experience was so poignant for her that she decided to disembark early in Germany during her return from Beijing four years later.
She expressed the intensity of the setback that affected her, acknowledging that she is incapable of handling it. She mentioned that enduring the aftermath of falling from grace as a former world champion, during the roll-call in Dublin, was beyond her emotional strength. As a result, she opted to stop in Frankfurt and planned to meet a friend at a local pub.
Just like her, Gillick and Heffernan also shared their experiences of similar situations. The crux of each account revolved around the perceived value of medals. If that’s all we consider important, the journey will invariably have its cost.
As the forthcoming months unfold with excitement, we must remember to bear this in mind.