53. Zeke
DAY THIRTEEN OF THE 2024 OLYMPICS
Most athletes had good luck charms. Things they carried into the changing room before every competition that made them feel at ease when the whistle blew. For Haruki, that was an old hoodie he’d worn the day he won his first gold medal. And a lot of athletes were superstitious about the things they would and wouldn’t say in the lead-up to a competition. Valentina never said the words “win” or “medal” the day before a competition and always recited the serenity prayer before she walked out into the arena. In fact, almost all of the athletes in the Village had tried-and-tested game-day routines that started as soon as they woke up on the morning of a big event.
Zeke had spent years perfecting his. He woke early in the morning and started his day with a jog around the perimeter of the Village. Then he took a long shower and grabbed his notebook to write down everything he was worried about, so as to avoid carrying it out into the day. Then he would make time for his family.
The Moyos had landed in Athens the night before, and that morning they descended on GB House.
“Little Z, you’ve got this,” said his oldest brother, Takunda, as the three of them walked into Zeke’s room.
“Just put your whole heart into it, leave it all on the track,” said Masimba as he pulled him into a fierce bear hug. “Dad would be so proud of you.”
Zeke nodded and hoped it was true.
“All right, we have only a few minutes before that Coach Adam of yours starts trying to tell me how much time I can spend with my own son,” said Mai Moyo, who treated the coach like he was one of her troublesome nephews, despite being only ten years older than him. “My son, you make me proud every day. Kick those small boys to the ground and bring home gold, in Jesus’s name,” she said, pulling him into a tight hug before insisting that they spend the last few minutes singing one of her old favorite hymns. Then she began to pray.
“Almighty King and Savior!” she said, ready to begin the non- negotiable ten-minute-long prayer that marked the official start of each competition. Once his mum was done, he said goodbye to his family, ran downstairs to meet his teammates, and then headed over to the other side of the Village to go to the next part of his race-day ritual.
Every single year Coach Adam hosted a team breakfast. Usually, it ended up being on a random Saturday in the offseason when none of the team was competing, but in Olympic years, he always scheduled it to happen on the morning of the athletics finals. It seemed counterintuitive, and Zeke’s friends who competed for other countries always raised an eyebrow when he told them that their head coach got them all together for a celebration on the morning of the most important competition of their lives. But the reasoning was pretty clear. By the end of the day, all of them would have competed in their final competition of the Games. For some of them that meant the day would end in a victory, a medal ceremony, and a new personal or world record. But for others, the day would end with them finishing in last place, getting injured, or making a small mistake that had the potential to derail their entire careers. They all knew how high the stakes were, so Coach Adam threw the team breakfasts to remind them to celebrate just how far they’d come.
Coach Adam reserved a private section in the athletes’ canteen, decorated it with Union Jack flags, and covered the walls with printouts of all the pictures he’d taken of them since they’d arrived in Athens. Funk and soul blasted from the speaker. Tables were covered with healthy, colorful breakfast platters, fruit bowls, and jugs of fresh juice.
When Zeke got there, he was instantly engulfed by the excited energy in the room. The whole athletics team was there, walking around and catching up with people they hadn’t seen since the airport. Village days felt like lifetimes, and they’d all been so busy with training and competitions that breakfast was a reunion. They talked about how much of Athens they’d seen since arriving, made plans for everything they wanted to do before the closing ceremony, and spent the morning taking photos, telling stories, and eating breakfast. And they did it all without talking about their competitions. It was Coach Adam’s only rule: no field talk at the team breakfast. They were all hyperaware of what lay ahead of them, all the things they’d been working for, and all the hopes they were running toward. But for that hour at least, it was just about being together on one of their last days of the Games.
“Okay, I know what happens in the Village stays in the Village,” said Coach Adam to a collective groan. “I know you’ve all been so focused on your competitions that you haven’t even thought about parties.” He looked over at Camille as he said this, who had thrown a hall party at the start of the week. “That you’ve all put so much of your attention into training that you haven’t had time to befriend a sheik and a crown princess.” Anwar laughed and pretended to zip his lips. “And that you’ve all been so disciplined with your routines that none of you were grounded and given a seven p.m. curfew.” Zeke looked sheepish.
“All right, team. Give it your all, be braver than you’ve ever been, and know that you’ve already achieved everything you needed to by getting here. Whatever happens in that stadium is just the icing on top. You are some of the most hardworking, determined, excellent athletes I’ve ever had the privilege to work with.”
“Oh, Coach,” said Camille with a hand on her heart.
“And the most annoying, arrogant, infuriating bunch of people I’ve ever had the displeasure to meet,” he said, making them laugh. “But I’m so proud of you. Of what you’ve achieved, what you’ve sacrificed, and, most importantly, the incredible people you’ve all become. So, drink enough water, make sure to stretch, and don’t get into too much trouble at the after-party I’m going to pretend I didn’t just hear you planning.”
Everyone clapped and cheered before they all headed out to one of the most important competitions of their lives.