Gordon Monson: Billions of us humans are watching the Paris Olympics and here’s why

Billions of people have spent billions of minutes watching the Paris Olympics, breaking as many viewing world records during these games as the athletes themselves in their respective events. That’s right, the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat have been presented in massive numbers on our TV, computer, and/or phone screens, brought to us by McDonald’s, by PetsMart, by Xfinity, by Domino’s, by Olay Cleansing Melts.

In the United States, those viewership numbers are of the NFL variety, like the Super Bowl.

Stop to think about that for a minute.

Humans and, in particular, Americans, Utahns, millions and millions of us, are interrupting our lives, putting them on pause, to watch synchronized diving, artistic swimming, dressage, rhythmic gymnastics, pingpong, badminton, climbing, kayaking, judo, break dancing, pole vaulting and discus throwing. Sure, there are the biggies, too, like gymnastics, swimming, track, and such.

But let’s be honest here, most of these are competitions that, under normal conditions, we’d rank on our assorted must-see-TV lists somewhere south of log rolling, axe chucking, clogging, chip flipping, tractor pulling, and 60-year-old reruns of Petticoat Junction.

So what’s the draw?

Perhaps we’ve already run through part of the answer: The world is paying attention, so we watch, too. But large patches of the world also watch the Cricket World Cup — nearly 3 billion viewers — and nobody around here cares about that. A few here watch the Tour de France, but not to the tune of the 3.5 billion watching from around the globe.

Maybe it’s national pride, a quantifiable way for us to measure how our country does against the others, at least those who aren’t going to war against Ukraine.

That’s why so many Americans check out the medals count, to see if the U.S. is making up the difference, the deficiency, in gold medals against China from the diving events in competitions like track and basketball.

We want to feel superior to other nations without putting boots on the ground against them. Maybe I’m overstating that, but, admit it, when Gabby Thomas blows away the field in the women’s 200 meters or Katie Ledecky out-swims the world or Simone Biles out-twirls it, when the U.S. women’s relay teams fire first through the finish line in dramatic fashion — thank heavens for America’s female athletes — we can feel the chills run up and down our spines as we sit on the sofa eating nachos and pounding chips and dip. God bless America. Y’all saw what Cole Hocker did in the men’s 1500 meters, right? If that wasn’t a cool sports moment, then there are none.

Thing is, athletes from other countries are amazing, as well. And their remarkable performances can be equally thrilling. I mean, when Julien Alfred won the women’s 100 meters, the first-ever gold medal for an athlete from St. Lucia, we all could celebrate alongside 200,000 St. Lucians out on their island. When she finished second to Thomas in the 200m, and flashed a smile at the American despite her disappointment at missing out on the sprint double-gold, that was a fine moment.

Maybe that’s what draws us in, those moments, the fact that we know these folks work their butts off in training for a single shot at Olympic glory, and it unfolds, one way or another, right in front of our eyes.

That’s a bit different than a regular-season NBA game in February that washes away in a sea of 81 others, and then evaporates completely inside the high-beam meaning once the playoffs commence.

Speaking of basketball, if Team USA on the men’s side, or the women’s, falls short of gold, folks around here may freak out over that, but we’ll see Steph Curry and LeBron James and A’ja Wilson and others soon enough, playing for NBA or WNBA titles. For so many lesser-known Olympians, this is it. Some transition, endure, from Games to Games, but their moments are fleeting.

That pulls us in, especially when whoever’s competing looks like the kid who lives down the block or a classmate from college, and when they are busy in other parts of their lives, going to school or working at a medical clinic or behind the counter at a sub shop, all the better.

That’s when who they are reminds us of … us, until they demonstrate in their individual sport that they are extraordinary. How many times during the Games do you find yourself asking these questions: “How do they do that? Could you do that?” And then you answer the question by saying, “I couldn’t do that.”

Yeah, that’s one of the reasons we watch. And for those who finish without a medal, who end up fourth or 10th or 20th, we can have empathy for them. And, again, that’s when we remember what the so-called father of the modern Olympics — Baron or Lord Pierre de What’s His Name — Coubertin, I think — said about the whole deal:

“The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win, but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph, but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered, but to have fought well.”

Still, we love the struggle and the triumph. That’s the best reason for putting our lives on hold to watch. The fight and the conquering.