This was an Olympic 100m final that felt like a brawl: messy, exhilarating, extraordinary, raw. As the world’s eight best male sprinters crossed the finish line in an almighty heap, their form disintegrating as their desperation grew, the giant stadium screens gave no indication of the result. Only the word “photo-finish” was by everyone’s name.
In the desperate seconds that followed, Noah Lyles, the American who is track and field’s greatest showman, went over to the young Jamaican star, Kishane Thompson. “I think you’ve got the Olympics, big dog.” For once, though, Lyles was wrong. But only just.
It came down to just five thousandths of a second: the width of a torso, a blink of an eye. That was the margin between gold and silver, and gap between Lyles and Thompson, after their heads bobbed over the line in 9.79sec.
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