“But before medics arrived, someone else rushed to her side: fellow competitor Silina Pha Aphay of Laos.
Moris, in Lane 1, was keeping pace after bolting from the starting blocks. But halfway through the race, she began to slow down and look unsteady, before crumpling to the ground. The fall occurred in front of Pha Aphay, who was in Lane 2.
The South Sudanese athlete laid on the purple track, unable to get back up. Even after the race ended, Moris, 23, remained on the ground alone, shrieking in pain and clutching her right thigh.
That’s when Pha Aphay, 28, ran back toward Moris. The Laotian had just finished sixth, which was not high enough to advance to the next stage. And so, her time at the Olympics was over.”
This is stark contrast to the women’s 5000 meter race.
“[A]bout 12 and a half minutes into the career-defining race – a little before the 4200m mark, with just over two laps to go – Kenya’s Faith Kipyegon was in the lead and running close to the rail on the inside of the track. The reigning world champion in the 5000m and 1500m, Kipyegon then found herself in extra-close proximity to Ethiopia’s Guduf Tsegay, the current 5000m world record holder, who had cut across from the outside.
A questionable exchange between the pair quickly followed, with Kipyegon appearing to physically push Tsegay to reclaim some space on the track.
Kipyegon and countrywoman Beatrice Chebet – the eventual winner, who was just behind Kipyegon at the time of the clash – then seemed to exchange a few words as Chebet stepped to the side. Tsegay, grimacing, forced her way ahead and retained a brief lead before Kipyegon and Chebet swung around to pass her again.”
At the end of most contests we will regularly see opposing teams, opposing individuals line up for a congratulatory handshake or embrace. There are moments in the heat of the fight for the gold, or to raise the Stanley Cup we will see moments of anger and pain. We will see the purposeful push, trip or elbow. That is why we have referees. (Another topic you will read about in another blog is the roll of the referee and the varied punishments meted out.) However, other than in combat sports, no one intends to hurt their opponent. (Maybe hockey could be considered a combat sport – though less and less each year.) Regularly, we hear athletes says they don’t want to win that way.
This is never more apparent than when a ball dribbles over the net in tennis and the tennis player apologizes for winning the point that way. They may be thinking, “I really needed that point” or “how lucky I am to get that point” but outwardly they apologize.
Then at the end of the match, they shake hands across the net and then turn to the chair umpire and shake hands with that person as well. Yes there are the moments when because of a perceived bad call the athlete refuses to shake hands with either their opponent or the umpire.
We see it most often in championship moments. The teams in the Stanley Cup line up and shake hands or hug. In the two weeks we have seen Olympians embrace after a hard fought battle. Even if they have felt robbed, they have stood with a sense of sportsmanship (the subject of another post later this year.)
I often think about that moment of contact after the game is over and how it must feel. For sure, there was much contact during the game and many of those moments will leave a bruise, a mark or atleast a lasting memory.
I remember during my first match in the IVY league Judo championships when my opponent stepped on my big toe and tried to throw, breaking my toe in three places. (I wasn’t going to win anyway – the judoka from West Point kicked my butt.) Yet, my big toe is still a bit wonky.
At the end of the competition, the jagged elbow turns into a hug. The push from behind turns into a handshake and the trip turns into a pat on the head and a moment of yelling in someone’s face turns into a whisper in the ear of a fellow athlete and a hip check turns into a moment of respect for a person and the sport. It happens in individual sports and in team sport alike.
However, I just witnessed something that stands out as a moment of complete total disrespect. Noah Lyle, by far one of the most talented sprinters in recent memory, won the gold medal in the one hundred sprint. In pre olympic interviews told the world he was planning on winning gold in both the 100 meters and the 200 meters race. Usain Bolt at the Rio Olympics in 2016 was the last male athlete to win both the 100m and 200m at the same Olympics.
For those who have had more than enough exposure to Noah Lyle’s, who said the [100 meters] race is his mistress, while the 200 meters is his wife, the man who was featured heavily in the Netflix documentary Sprint. He claims to transcend the sport. And while that is true of people like Roger Federer and Raphael Nadal, LeBron James; Noah Lyles is not in their orbit of influence. He is not even in their peripheral sight. I get that in order to be the best at something you must be a little self centered. I understand or at least I can imagine the singular commitment that requires a bit of tunnel vision to believe first that you can be or are already better than anyone else.
After winning the 100 meters, “The world’s most unbeatable 200 meters runner, the man who just four days ago insisted he’d leave his rivals “depressed” when he came off the turn, lost his signature race.” And then as the saying goes, “Man plans and God laughs.”
So let’s take a moment to understand the timeline. Noah Lyles wins the gold medal at the Paris Olympics on August 4. Two days later Lyle raced in the preliminary heat for the 200 meter race and comes in second. Then 2 days later he races in the final and comes in third winning a bronze medal, an extraordinary accomplishment in its own right. Again, all the props to him.
After the race he goes over to Letsile Tebogo of Botswana and hugs him in congratulations. Tebogo took gold in 19.46 seconds, with American Kenny Bednarek taking silver in 19.62 seconds. Lyles was third across the line in 19.70 second. Then Lyles, appealing for water, falls to the ground and is later wheeled off the track with speculation about the asthma which he has often remarked about in his improbable journey to racing. The speculation in the media between the time he receives treatment and the time he dons a mask for a post race interview, is of course his asthma. His mother, his biggest cheerleader (and rightfully so), rushes to his side. Then came the announcement. Noah Lyles was diagnosed with COVID 2 days before the 200-meter final and then he confirmed it during the interview.
Of course, everyone looks forward and asks, will he be able to compete in the 4X100 men’s relay. I look backward to the moment when Lyle hugged Tebogo. To be honest, I wouldn’t want him hugging me if I knew he had COVID. The most generous side of me says, the moment overwhelmed him and he just did what came naturally to him and that is to congratulate my opponent. The more cynical side of me thinks, he just wanted to make sure no one thought of him as a sore loser. Either way, he wasn’t thinking about his opponent.
In our lives we must think of others. The Budha once remarked that you will never fall if you walk with your head down. His commentary suggests that humility will cause you to be more careful. Hubris reminds us to show respect. Humility encourages us to think of others. Humility means you don’t need to put others down.
When Camaraderie Turns Self Centered
But before medics arrived, someone else rushed to her side: fellow competitor Silina Pha Aphay of Laos.
Moris, in Lane 1, was keeping pace after bolting from the starting blocks. But halfway through the race, she began to slow down and look unsteady, before crumpling to the ground. The fall occurred in front of Pha Aphay, who was in Lane 2.
The South Sudanese athlete laid on the purple track, unable to get back up. Even after the race ended, Moris, 23, remained on the ground alone, shrieking in pain and clutching her right thigh.
That’s when Pha Aphay, 28, ran back toward Moris. The Laotian had just finished sixth, which was not high enough to advance to the next stage. And so, her time at the Olympics was over.
This is stark contrast to the women’s 5000 meter race in which at
[A]bout 12 and a half minutes into the career-defining race – a little before the 4200m mark, with just over two laps to go – Kenya’s Faith Kipyegon was in the lead and running close to the rail on the inside of the track. The reigning world champion in the 5000m and 1500m, Kipyegon then found herself in extra-close proximity to Ethiopia’s Guduf Tsegay, the current 5000m world record holder, who had cut across from the outside.
A questionable exchange between the pair quickly followed, with Kipyegon appearing to physically push Tsegay to reclaim some space on the track.
Kipyegon and countrywoman Beatrice Chebet – the eventual winner, who was just behind Kipyegon at the time of the clash – then seemed to exchange a few words as Chebet stepped to the side. Tsegay, grimacing, forced her way ahead and retained a brief lead before Kipyegon and Chebet swung around to pass her again.
At the end of most contests we will regularly see opposing teams, opposing individuals line up for a congratulatory handshake or embrace. There are moments in the heat of the fight for the gold, or to raise the Stanley Cup we will see moments of anger and pain. We will see the purposeful push, trip or elbow. That is why we have referees. (Another topic you will read about in another blog is the roll of the referee and the varied punishments meted out.) However, other than in combat sports, no one intends to hurt their opponent. (Maybe hockey could be considered a combat sport – though less and less each year.) Regularly, we hear athletes says they don’t want to win that way.
This is never more apparent than when a ball dribbles over the net in tennis and the tennis player apologizes for winning the point that way. They may be thinking, “I really needed that point” or “how lucky I am to get that point” but outwardly they apologize.
Then at the end of the match, they shake hands across the net and then turn to the chair umpire and shake hands with that person as well. Yes there are the moments when because of a perceived bad call the athlete refuses to shake hands with either their opponent or the umpire.
We see it most often in championship moments. The teams in the Stanley Cup line up and shake hands or hug. In the two weeks we have seen Olympians embrace after a hard fought battle. Even if they have felt robbed, they have stood with a sense of sportsmanship (the subject of another post later this year.)
I often think about that moment of contact after the game is over and how it must feel. For sure, there was much contact during the game and many of those moments will leave a bruise, a mark or atleast a lasting memory.
I remember during my first match in the IVY league Judo championships when my opponent stepped on my big toe and tried to throw, breaking my toe in three places. (I wasn’t going to win anyway – the judoka from West Point kicked my butt.) Yet, my big toe is still a bit wonky.
At the end of the competition, the jagged elbow turns into a hug. The push from behind turns into a handshake and the trip turns into a pat on the head and a moment of yelling in someone’s face turns into a whisper in the ear of a fellow athlete and a hip check turns into a moment of respect for a person and the sport. It happens in individual sports and in team sport alike.
However, I just witnessed something that stands out as a moment of complete total disrespect. Noah Lyle, by far one of the most talented sprinters in recent memory, won the gold medal in the one hundred sprint. In pre olympic interviews told the world he was planning on winning gold in both the 100 meters and the 200 meters race. Usain Bolt at the Rio Olympics in 2016 was the last male athlete to win both the 100m and 200m at the same Olympics.
For those who have had more than enough exposure to Noah Lyle’s, who said the [100 meters] race is his mistress, while the 200 meters is his wife, the man who was featured heavily in the Netflix documentary Sprint. He claims to transcend the sport. And while that is true of people like Roger Federer and Raphael Nadal, LeBron James; Noah Lyles is not in their orbit of influence. He is not even in their peripheral sight. I get that in order to be the best at something you must be a little self centered. I understand or at least I can imagine the singular commitment that requires a bit of tunnel vision to believe first that you can be or are already better than anyone else.
After winning the 100 meters, “The world’s most unbeatable 200 meters runner, the man who just four days ago insisted he’d leave his rivals “depressed” when he came off the turn, lost his signature race.” And then as the saying goes, “Man plans and God laughs.”
So let’s take a moment to understand the timeline. Noah Lyles wins the gold medal at the Paris Olympics on August 4. Two days later Lyle raced in the preliminary heat for the 200 meter race and comes in second. Then 2 days later he races in the final and comes in third winning a bronze medal, an extraordinary accomplishment in its own right. Again, all the props to him.
After the race he goes over to Letsile Tebogo of Botswana and hugs him in congratulations. Tebogo took gold in 19.46 seconds, with American Kenny Bednarek taking silver in 19.62 seconds. Lyles was third across the line in 19.70 second. Then Lyles, appealing for water, falls to the ground and is later wheeled off the track with speculation about the asthma which he has often remarked about in his improbable journey to racing. The speculation in the media between the time he receives treatment and the time he dons a mask for a post race interview, is of course his asthma. His mother, his biggest cheerleader (and rightfully so), rushes to his side. Then came the announcement. Noah Lyles was diagnosed with COVID 2 days before the 200-meter final and then he confirmed it during the interview.
Of course, everyone looks forward and asks, will he be able to compete in the 4X100 men’s relay. I look backward to the moment when Lyle hugged Tebogo. To be honest, I wouldn’t want him hugging me if I knew he had COVID. The most generous side of me says, the moment overwhelmed him and he just did what came naturally to him and that is to congratulate my opponent. The more cynical side of me thinks, he just wanted to make sure no one thought of him as a sore loser. Either way, he wasn’t thinking about his opponent.
In our lives we must think of others. The Budha once remarked that you will never fall if you walk with your head down. His commentary suggests that humility will cause you to be more careful. Hubris reminds us to show respect. Humility encourages us to think of others. Humility means you don’t need to put others down.