G.O.A.T. or goat

AN EDITED VERSION OF THIS POST IS SCHEDULED TO APPEAR IN LETTERS TO THE EDITOR IN THE BOSTON GLOBE

The sport was arguably the centerpiece of the Olympics, as least this year. And she was the centerpiece of the centerpiece. The bullseye.

She was omnipresent. She was omnipotent. She was the G.O.A.T. Maybe the G.O.A.T. of G.O.A.Ts. The one.

And as Simone Biles wobbled in the prelims, we understood she would dominate in the team finals. Until she didn't, the weight of expectations bringing her crashing back to earth, no longer soaring through the air, twisting and turning, but suddenly, incredibly human, a person exposed, filled with flaws and insecurities like you and me. Now merely twisting in the wind.

On the biggest stage, at the absolute apex of a uniquely remarkable career, there she stood and announced "no more". We did not believe. We did not understand. This did not compute.

The emotional strain greater than the physical capacity. The mind, not the body, failing.

This has been a year unlike any other, testing our collective mental fortitude in the face of relentless adversity. And these Olympics, the stands virtually empty, the support of a cheering crowd, of friends and family, nowhere to be found, athletes isolated and alone in ways none of us could ever have imagined, the toll unimaginable on many of those who toiled. None more so than Simone Biles.

Did she embellish her stature in defeat more than she could have in victory? To some, this seems an absurdity. For them, she merely cracked under the pressure. To others, Simone Biles exhibited a courage and grace unmatched on a field of sport.

Once and forever G.O.A.T or, at least in this moment, mere goat? 

The answer lies in the eye of the beholder.