On Missing the Olympics
Sunday's final day of the Olympic Trials was a little bit of a mess. But it was also so special.
“Are you in your happy place?”
“Go ahead, say it.”
That’s what my girlfriend, Audrey, said to me as we walked through campus on an unrelentingly hot Eugene morning.
She was encouraging me to live in that moment. To feel all the feels. And to say it out loud.
We were on our way to our first sporting event in Eugene since the 2019 Civil War. We had spent the weekend walking down memory lane of our neither halcyon-nor-recent college days. And we were about to witness the most “spiritual” event of the Olympic Trials at New Hayward Field—the Men’s 5000M Final.
All of that is obviously more than enough to put me in my happy place. Hell, simply arriving in Eugene would be enough to do that. But to top it all off, as we walked across the South Lawn of Knight Library, we caught a glimpse of Oregon’s own Cooper Teare.
He was striding through the Pioneer Cemetery, finding some shade in the early 88 degree heat, and warming up for the biggest race of his still-young career.
I couldn’t have written it any better myself. And Robert Towne couldn’t have directed it. And Tom Cruise couldn’t have produced it. And neither Jared Leto nor even Billy Crudup could have portrayed this scene in a more cinematic, picturesque, goosbump-enducing image.
No doubt about it, I was in my happy place.
As I made clear in my preview, Teare was my first, last, and trapped-on-a-desert-island rooting interest of the whole trials. If I was going to see any race, I had to see him in that 5000 meter Final.
It’s Pre’s race. And Sunday’s 5K was the first Olympic Trials Final in the building that is essentially a cathedral for the Mythology of Prefontaine. I had to be in that building for those thirteen some-odd minutes.
If it seems like I’m being a little dramatic about it all, it’s because I am.
As we sat in our 22-inch leather seats with ample leg room, Audrey asked me another question: “What do you think Cooper’s thinking right now?”
My initial thought was that he was probably nervous as hell. But maybe I was just projecting.
He’s the young buck, running above his weight class, all he had to do was run with guts. Where he placed in this race and what his time was would never be held against him. But he clearly didn’t see it as a free race. It was an opportunity.
It’d be too easy to draw some allegory between Teare and Pre. NBC did it a bunch this weekend. And I’ve already done it two or three times in this article alone.
But I’ll resist the urge to do it again.
Because the man that ran in that scorching 5000M Final wasn’t just a kid with a hero. That man was the hero.
Teare held strong in the tough heat; he didn’t panic during an early 62-second lap; he let the race settle down around him; and he gave three of the best pros running today a real fucking race.
Chelimo, Kincaid, and Fisher are undeniably at the top of their games right now. They have a real chance to make some noise in Tokyo. But Cooper Teare was right there. After a very long—literal national championship—college season, he pushed himself to the edge alongside three guys that get paid to do what they do.
Teare’s time is here. And I think it’s clear that he is well-past making the leap to the professional ranks—as much as I’d love to see him run in an Oregon singlet again.
He’ll pick a coach, a sponsor, and make some World Championship teams over the next few years. And then I’ll be back in those fancy New Hayward seats to watch him win that Final in 2024.
Cole Hocker will need a buddy in Paris.
Cooper came in fourth at the Olympic Trials, and that always sucks. But this article wouldn’t be complete unless I made it about myself somehow.
After the morning session for the 5K, Auds and I walked back to her cousin Anna’s college apartment where we escaped the heat. We laid low and intended to save ourselves for a wonderful hour of races that were slated for 4:30-5:30 PM (aka the hottest part of the hottest day of the year).
As we parked along 18th for the second session, we saw folks walking the opposite direction. Officials had (rightfully) postponed the meet due to the 112 degree temps. The races would start back up again at 8:30 PM.
While we were rescued from the heat, our new enemy was now the clock. As if the Sunday Scaries weren’t real enough, we were now looking at getting home after midnight—with our pup Lenny’s grooming appointment early Monday morning, to boot.
Staying for the last races just wasn’t in the cards. But hey, what did I tell you before? The 5K was my trapped-on-a-desert-island event. It was the race that made everything worth everything all on its own. And I stand by that—result be damned.
We got back home with plenty of time to watch Raevyn Rogers make the team, and to witness Cole Freaking Hocker shush Centro. And we came out of the whole ordeal with yet another classic “James at a Duck Sporting Event” story.
We missed the Olympics. So did Cooper Teare. One of those statements is technically more true than the other. But the disappointment is true across the board. It’s good thing there will be more of them.
And walking through Pioneer Cemetery, witnessing a hero run his strides—and of course, being in Eugene—that’s more than enough to put me in my happy place.
So I’m going to say it out loud.
Go Ducks.