Less than a month has passed since the curtain fell on the Paris Olympics, since Tom Cruise rappelled from the stadium roof at the Closing Ceremony, collected the five-ringed flag from gymnastics star Simone Biles, rode off on a motorcycle and through the magic of film wound up skydiving onto the Hollywood sign, signaling the passing of the torch to the next host city, Los Angeles.
Beautiful and magnificent as it was, the 2024 Olympics evaporated into a memory the moment the flame was extinguished.
Sports fans in the United States turned their attention back to the NFL and college football while more than 11,000 Olympians from 200 countries returned to their daily lives, most of them in relative anonymity and many of them struggling with post-Olympics blues, a little-talked about condition that faces Olympic athletes every four years.
For some, the blues spiral into depression.
Having covered 14 Olympics, I had this recurring theme on my mind Wednesday morning as I watched six local Olympians receive a key to the county from Mayor Daniella Levine Cava and other giddy dignitaries at a ceremony in the Miami-Dade County Commissioners chambers.
One by one, the athletes were introduced, handed a shiny key in a black felt box, and then they posed for group photos: artistic swimming silver medalist Daniella Ramirez, judoka Angelica Delgado, sailor Sarah Newberry Moore, triple jumper Russell Robinson, gold medalist sprinter Twanisha “Tee Tee” Terry, and Heat star Bam Adebayo, who won a gold medal with team USA.
Needless to say, Adebayo created the biggest buzz. The tallest, most recognizable of the bunch, Adebayo is one of the lucky Olympians who had plenty waiting for him back home after leaving Paris. The three-time All-Star signed a $166 million contract extension in July and the upcoming NBA season is around the corner.
But what about the others? What about three-time Olympian Delgado, 33-year-old daughter of a Cuban immigrant, who has dedicated her life to judo and whose only sponsors are her uniform brand (Mizuno) and the New York Athletic Club? What about Ramirez, who has a gold medal and a gold key, but doesn’t have major endorsement offers?
“After you do well, people expect it to be like this super big celebration for months and months on end, and you’re super happy; and of course, it’s like that, but it’s also a big feeling of emptiness because your goal and purpose in life that you put so much into is now gone,” said Ramirez, a 22-year-old Miami native with Venezuelan roots who attended UCLA.
“It can feel like post-Olympics blues and post-Olympics depression because there’s such a big high that now coming back home and there’s these quiet moments where you have to sit alone with yourself and say `OK, this time in my life is over. It’s time to start a new chapter.’’’
Anticipating those feelings, Ramirez spent two weeks decompressing with friends on an isolated farm in Denmark immediately after the Olympics. They meditated, did yoga, and convened with nature.
“I reconnected with myself and tried to figure out what I wanted to do because for so long all I did is swim,” she said.
Delgado could relate.
“People don’t really understand that you work an entire lifetime, I started judo when I was 9, and now I’m 33, this was my last Olympics, so it’s a lifetime of dedication and work that goes by in a flash and you’re kind of left like, `What now?’’’ said Delgado, a Tamiami native who graduated from Ferguson High and FIU.
After failing to make the 2012 Olympic team, Delgado was feeling depressed and began working with Miami-based sports psychologist Dr. Gilberto Gonzalez of DSI Sports Lab. She says he has been instrumental in helping her navigate post-Olympic blues.
Watching the ceremony Wednesday with a wealth of wisdom in her eyes was Carmen Jackson, the legendary Northwestern High track coach, who has been a mentor to students at the school for 39 years and has trained five Olympians, including Terry, who won gold in the 400-meter relay.
“Once all the frills are over with the Olympics, in this country we do a very poor job of elevating our athletes after all they’ve done, years of sacrifice, hard work and commitment representing this country and our communities,” Jackson said. “In other countries they elevate Olympians, give them resources to continue to compete, help them get jobs. We don’t do that here.
“We don’t do good by our Olympians. We just parade them, yippee-yi-yay, give them a piece of paper commending them, and then forget about them. No, we’ve got to elevate those individuals, and they can pull other youth through. Kids might say, ‘Oh, I can get support if I do what I’m supposed to do.’ We need to do better post-Olympics from the top government officials down to our local politicians.”
The first time I became acutely aware of post-Olympics depression was in 1996, during a painfully honest news conference by 1992 Olympic gold medalist diver Mark Lenzi. He described how he struggled mentally and emotionally for more than a year after standing atop the medal podium in Barcelona.
“I thought I was God’s gift to the world,” said Lenzi. “It’s so easy to fall into that trap. I went from a small-town kid in Virginia to riding a limo to ‘The Tonight Show.’ You train so hard for so long, and you expect that gold medal is going to change your life forever. But it doesn’t. Sometimes, it makes your life worse. The day comes when nobody gives a heck who you are, your gold medal is in a sock drawer, and I wasn’t prepared.”
He even considered selling his medal at one point to pay for flight school, before picking himself back up and making the 1996 Olympics, where he won a bronze medal. Lenzi struggled with depression for much of the rest of his life. He died in 2012 at age 43.
But not all Olympians feel emptiness after the Closing Ceremony.
Newberry Moore, the Olympic sailor who learned the sport on Biscayne Bay, has a 3-year-old son. She had to spend a lot of time away from him and her husband in the months leading up to the Games and then in France. So, for her, the end of the Olympics meant more family time.
“I was feeling emptiness during the competition, part of me was unfulfilled as a parent knowing that my kid was asking, `Where’s Mom tonight?’ `Why is she not staying with us?’” she said. “So, there was a comedown for me after the Olympics, but in a different way. For me, it’s filling of a void. I’ve been able to take my son to his first week of Pre-K, and that’s been great.”
As Delgado headed across of the lobby of the county government building, she walked in front of a group of women who were having their photo taken by one of the official county photographers. Delgado stopped, so as not to step in the way of the photo, but the photographer said: “No, you go on by, you’re an Olympian!”
The women clapped and cheered. Delgado smiled, clutched her golden key, and headed to her car.
This story was originally published September 4, 2024, 4:19 PM.