Golf, tennis at 2024 Paris Olympics exemplify thrill of victory, agony of defeat when playing for your country

When Spain’s Jon Rahm made birdie at the 10th hole on Sunday at the 2024 Paris Olympics, I looked at my 10-year-old son and said, “Buddy, this tournament is over.” He guffawed because he was rooting for the United States’ Scottie Scheffler and Great Britain’s Tommy Fleetwood while hoping that, you know, Ireland’s Rory McIlroy would shoot 27 on the back nine.

But he gave me a look that said he knew that I was right.

Two hours later, we both realized I was not.

Rahm played the next eight holes in 5 over kicking away not only the gold medal but the silver and the bronze as well. His comments after the round resounded despite the failure he experienced over those final few hours. In some ways, they legitimized golf in the Olympics in a way that anything he would have said after a victory could not.

“I don’t remember the last time I played a tournament and I felt … I don’t know what the word is because, you know, I not only feel like I let myself down but to just not get it done for the whole country of Spain,” Rahm said. “It’s a lot more painful than I would like it to be.

“I’ve gotten the question [of] where this tournament would rank in my opinion or what I would think it would feel like to win, and I think by losing today, I’m getting a much deeper appreciation of what this tournament means to me than if I had won any medal. I’m getting a taste of how much it really mattered. I’ve been very honored to represent Spain in many, many different events, and to not get this one done stings quite a bit.”

At around the same time, just over 26 kilometers from where Rahm tasted the bitterness of a back-nine 39, fellow Spaniard Carlos Alcaraz was experiencing a similar feeling. Alcaraz, who won the French Open and Wimbledon — the two most recent grand slam events in tennis — got beat by Serbia’s Novak Djokovic in the gold medal match at Roland Garros. 

He did not win a set.

Alcaraz’s words echoed those of Rahm.

“I think I put more pressure on myself because I was playing for Spain, for the Spaniards,” he said. “I felt that I let the Spanish people down by not winning the gold.”

Alcaraz added: “It was a different type of pressure. Everyone in Spain wanted me to win the gold, and I wanted to win the gold as well.”

What Rahm and Alcaraz and Scheffler and Djokovic — the latter two taking gold, Djokovic exploding with emotion after the final point — understood about their respective Olympic quests is that there is a tremendous difference playing against an opponent or for your country.

The Olympics are just different, and different is good. The events at the Summer Games need not match major championships in golf nor grand slams in tennis. The way they contextualize these sports — that we often only see through a singular prism — makes for extremely compelling competitions.

Neither Rahm nor Scheffler are unaccustomed to representing their countries on national teams; they have both played in Ryder Cups and Presidents Cups. In those events, though, one is playing against opposing countries trying to defeat them head-to-head. 

At the Olympics, there is a sense of playing for something. That is not to undermine the galvanization experienced at team golf events but to clarify that the context in Paris is quite different. With over 10,000 athletes from over 200 countries congregating in one metropolitan area, the sense of representation — of being from somewhere — unfolds on a global stage like no other sporting event in the world.

“I’m proud of the country I’m from,” explained Scheffler after he broke down while hearing “The Star-Spangled Banner” on the Olympic podium. “I’m proud to be American. I got emotional the other night watching the gold medal ceremony for women’s gymnastics. I take tremendous pride in coming over here and representing my country.

“And yeah, same thing, like when you go to a sporting event, you hear everybody in the stands singing the national anthem, it’s a pretty special thing to be a part of. And I think that’s something we take tremendous pride in. It was just very emotional being up there on stage there as the flag is being raised and sitting there singing the national anthem. 

“Yes, that’s definitely one I’ll remember for a long time.”

Why does the Olympics rouse these feelings in us — even in individualistic sports like tennis and golf? Tears and snot and men and women worth millions of dollars burying their faces in the crooks of their elbows because they know a billion people are going to see what happens next?

“This has been my first Games where it’s felt like an Olympic Games,” McIlroy said. “We weren’t able to interact with any other athletes in Tokyo because of COVID[-19]. To be able to go to some of the other events and to feel the spirit of the Olympics and what it’s all about and having dozens and dozens of athletes come from all over the word to compete in their individual sports and to be a part of that, it’s felt really cool.”

It is easy to downplay the significance of seeing thousands of the most skilled humans in the world gathering in one place  for one purpose. Most golfers, including McIlroy, did that when golf was reintroduced to the Olympics back in 2016. And while, on paper, Sunday marked the conclusion of just another 72-hole golf tournament with a winner and two runners up and several other spots on the leaderboard, Paris disclosed that it’s a lot more than that.

Going to world-class tournaments and contending to win them is the greatest challenge one can give themselves. But at the end of the week, even in victory, the circle of folks that share in one’s triumph is quite small.

At the Olympics, even if the venue and the field is perhaps not quite as top-shelf as the majors, there is a key ingredient that no other event can harness: Your achievement matters to hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people.

Golf has never been able to achieve that on its own, and prior to 2016, it’s something the game and its players never saw coming.