Sport is just the beginning

When I walked into the Birmingham's NEC Arena two weeks ago, I probably could've bet my Bass Pro Shops hat that I was the only Texan attending the 2022 Commonwealth Games (CWG). For the six days that I was able to attend, there was this "needle in a haystack" feeling as I waded through a sea of over 1.5 million fans of the Commonwealth that filled the streets of Brum. The work of 4-1/2 years of planning, £778m in spending, and tens of thousands of volunteers, police, and military personnel stationed at every corner ensured that lost puppies like me ( I got lost a lot:) who didn't know Victoria Square from Clement Street could witness athletes from 72 nations and territories compete across 27 events in the largest sports competition since the pandemic. By the time I left the closing ceremony at Alexander Stadium, I couldn't help but reflect on the gravity of "sport"–its impact and extensive teams that make it possible.

Think about it with me for a second. 1.5 million people from around the globe took time out of their schedules, bought tickets ( people broke the bank for some of those sessions, let me tell you), and made provisions for accommodations and transportation to the Games. I mentioned how the Commonwealth Games Federation (CGF) recruited thousands of volunteers, but it took 267,161 to feed them, and over a million hours to train, plan, and execute CGF's 11-day athletic schedule. How about lights? Set-up? Tear down? When I stop and think about who actually designed, printed, and hung the banners that brandished the Commonwealth Games' slogan––"Sport is just the beginning"––you realize how what sounds like a logistical nightmare translated to a massive stage set for the 4,500 athletes who would compete. You can

I've never competed on a stage that big, so I can only imagine the pressure on athletes who train for years to run a race that lasts seconds or who have to replicate perfect form through prelims, semis, and finals without fail. Can you imagine what it would be like to false start, scratch, get DQ'd, or come up short? On the other hand, could you imagine the ecstasy of coming out on top?! I get goosebumps thinking about it!

I had the privilege of talking to about 30 athletes during my time in Brum and I am excited to share more of their stories in a way that honor the absent, but in conversations it seemed that mental work was necessary whether or not you came home with a medal. A study published by Ranson et. al in 2021 reveals that 24% of athletes in the United Kingdom face psychological distress after the Olympics––an event of similar caliber to the CWG. Athletes who come up short may be haunted with regret and feelings of low self-esteem. They may carry the weight of letting down their family and country or the stress of not receiving sponsorship or prize money. The athletes who are fortunate enough to win gold can be at risk for depression as they come down from podiums and return to normalcy where they are not as celebrated, recognized or supported.

If trouble lies on either side, a careful disposition may be the only way out. If you read the Commonwealth slogan again, you might see the hope in it.

To the athlete who didn't perform to their expectations, sport is just the beginning. Keep going.

To the champion who thinks medals, endorsements, and fame defines them, sport is just the beginning.

To the ex-athletes like me who have no idea what comes next, sport is just the beginning.

Sport is just the beginning

#MoreThanAnAthlete,

Chi

"Psychological distress and wellbeing in UK olympic and paralympic athletes", Ranson et. al (2021) http://dx.doi.org/10.1136/bjsports-2021-IOC.127