Lyles described how he knew as early as Tuesday morning, 36 hours after his 100m gold, that he was in trouble, “feeling really horrible”. Sure enough, he tested positive for Covid, but tried desperately not to panic. He had run in worse predicaments, he said, and tried to stave off the worst effects by staying hydrated. And yet the 200m is a discipline that punishes even the slightest sign of ill health. Perhaps his sluggish semi-final time of 20.08 should have been a warning. For when it came to the final, he lacked his customary acceleration off the curve, trailing in behind Tebogo and US compatriot Kenny Bednarek in a result that no one had foretold.
The timing is desperately unfortunate. For all that Lyles can grate with his look-at-me excesses, and his stated aim to emulate Michael Jordan by launching his own range of trainers, he is the carnival act that athletics sorely needs. Where Sydney McLaughlin-Levrone, the superstar of the night with her 50.37 world record in the 400m hurdles, gives precious little away in interviews, Lyles is unabashedly an open book, happy to talk about everything from his music collection to his nail polish. He adores the limelight to such an extent that he even gatecrashed a Mondo Duplantis interview after the Swede’s giddying 6.25m pole vault, shrieking “All-star, let’s go!”
Tebogo: ‘I carried my mother through every stride’
This time he was a touch more muted, knowing how rare an opportunity had passed him by. Only nine men in history have doubled up at the Olympics over 100 and 200, and Lyles fully intended to be the 10th. But he was upstaged by a brilliant Botswanan sprinter on a single-minded quest. His mother died on May 19, and he left little doubt that he was still in profound grief, crossing the line with his hand on his heart.
“It wasn’t really clicking for me that she’s really gone,” Tebogo explained. “I have to find the reason why I started my athletics journey and why I should continue going on.” The spikes that he brought here to Paris were also marked with her date of birth to honour her. “It’s basically me carrying her through every stride that I take inside the field. To take her with me, it gives me a lot of motivation. She’s watching up there, and she’s really, really happy. I didn’t want to put the date of her death, because I’ll get emotional.”
Little in this Paris sprint programme has unfolded as predicted. Champions have sprung from the unlikeliest places: first came Julien Alfred from St Lucia, and now Tebogo from Botswana, both grasping their countries’ first gold medals in Olympic history. It has been a stirring reflection of this sport’s universal appeal.
Lyles, however, has been left cursing his luck. He arrived here with designs only on being the history man. Instead, he has been reduced to the unfortunate invalid.