PARIS, (Xinhua) — When the results of the men’s gymnastics team final appeared on the scoreboard at the Bercy Arena in Paris, China’s gymnasts could not hold back their tears. But these were not tears of joy.
For the Chinese team, a silver medal may well amount to a failure. When a curious reporter asked China’s veteran Xiao Ruoteng, the Tokyo 2020 all-around silver medalist, why they were not celebrating, the reason was clear: they were aiming for the gold medal, which had been well within their reach moments ago but ultimately slipped away.
It was natural for the athletes to respond this way because only they knew the sacrifices they had made to be where they were. However, they understood that this is the nature of competitive sport: the outcome is uncertain until the very last moment.
China’s men had won two straight bronze medals at Rio 2016 and Tokyo 2020, and split world titles with Japan in 2022 and 2023. It was heartbreaking because they had been well positioned to reach the top podium this time.
After all, this was the strongest squad China had seen in years. Zou Jingyuan and Liu Yang achieved insurmountable scores on the parallel bars and rings. A top-form Zhang Boheng excelled on six apparatus both in qualifications and the final, while Xiao, a dependable all-arounder, finished fourth in qualifying.
Su Weide, a horizontal bar specialist, was expected to make a difference against Japan, led by reigning Olympic champion Daiki Hashimoto. As with previous Olympics and world championships, China and Japan were often at each other’s heels until the final apparatus – the horizontal bar. This time was no exception, and China partly relied on Su to challenge Japan’s dominance in this event.
But it didn’t work out as planned. Su cracked under enormous pressure. At the Olympic Games, it may happen to any young athlete who doesn’t know how to cope with stress. The 24-year-old fell twice from the horizontal bar, creating a gap his team found nearly impossible to fill, and all hopes for the gold medal vanished.
However, Hashimoto had come off the pommel horse, handing China a chance to take the lead until the very end. Malone Brody of the United States fell twice from the horizontal bar and once from the pommel horse in qualifications, nearly costing his team a spot in the final.
So, all the soul-searching about whether they should have picked someone other than Su is to no avail. Because it could happen to anyone. That is part of the allure and pain of the Olympic Games.
Moreover, the notion that gold medals are all that counts has long been dropped in China. The country is far too diverse and versatile. Instead, the opportunity to compete with the best in the world, to show sportsmanship and to foster friendship is what matters.
Therefore, for many Chinese, the tears of their beloved gymnasts carry no less weight than a gold medal. They reflect the pains of becoming stronger and the fraternity between teammates and rivals.
Some seemingly “insignificant” moments in the competition also strike at our hearts and linger in our memories: Zou, fresh off the pommel horse, shared a banana with Xiao sitting next to him; Zhang pumped fists with a nervous Hashimoto who was about to go on the floor; and after their own vaults, the Canadians and Swiss turned to watch Shinnosuke Oka’s spectacular floor performance, with awe and smiles on their faces.
Together with the teary faces, these are also precious moments we will remember from a wonderful Olympics.