The one word that can sum up crazy Olympic whirlwind and the feeling it leaves us mortals with

It is absurd to imagine a stream of 800 or so words to come close to converting the true meaning of an Olympic Games.

It is, however, entirely possible to find a defining feature and give it unquestionable relevance to us couchbound, astounded mortals and our everyday lives.

Family.

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All these athletes, and all their stories. The ones who won, nearly won or felt the jolt of failure.

To Australians stories of this nature were as inescapable as the tear ducts that filled upon viewing.

Noemie Fox. Not Noemie, more like Jess' sister, about the last of the 460 Australian athletes at these Olympics to qualify. She won the ultimate game of mayhem in a kayak, kayak cross. Big sister Jess jumped in, unhinged. Big sister Jess, the perennial winner. Imagine how many conversations the pair had shared about life, and its endless array of events, irrelevant in the grand scheme but worries nonetheless in the big picture, which is about peaking at the right time. Noemie just wanted a chance to peak.

Not every day is an Olympic day. Some are dark. Mundane. Boring. Bad. Even Jess Fox has those. All necessary for days they both had just east of Paris, and when Noemie crossed the line, Jess jumped in and all those conversations, good days of hope, bad days of doubt washed away in the rapids with screaming joy.

Saya Sakakibara looked in a rush to win gold in BMX racing, where no person on the planet, even with jet propulsion, would have defeated her around the sadistic collection of concrete bumps similar to the ones that nearly claimed the life of her talented brother Kai in 2020.

So imagine the patience of her parents, and words they found to help Saya through the weeds of tragedy. Telling her to forget about crashing out in Tokyo. As a family, nursing Kai back from his brain injury. Telling Saya to go after glory, without wanting her to lose touch of real life. A thin line for an athlete.

Kai made it to Paris. He and Saya stared at each other moments after victory for both of them, for all of them.

The theme resonates across state borders, and international ones.

From Nina Kennedy's upbringing in WA. Imagine her loved ones delicately trying to find the right words to remove doubt from her mind, because if there is doubt in the pole vault, there are consequences.

Boxer Cindy Ngamba has had a life contemplating consequences after fleeing Cameroon for England 15 years ago. As Ngamba learned to duck and weave punches, she's had to navigate the British immigration system, threatened with deportation more than once. Stateless but helped by Great Britain Boxing, the IOC selected Ngamba for Paris, where she won a bronze medal for its Refugee Team. All those calls of uncertainty to lawyers and loved ones, to boxing coaches because she might be late, or distracted for one of those little training sessions that add up to a lot.

Imagine the conversation Letsile Tebogo wanted to have with his dearly departed mum Seratiwa the moment he left Noah Lyles in his vapour trail over 200 metres. The headlines already blared in big font about the respiratory system of Lyles, as Tebogo kept counsel, attached to his upbringing to stay humble, and focused. And fast. For mum.

These are just a handful of examples across the 329 medal events.

In four years, some events won't be back. Breaking is one and done, mercifully so in the eyes of many. Could there be a more first-world problem? The ground RayGun hopped on once hosted Nazi parades and royal beheadings.

Los Angeles 2028 will bring back baseball, softball, introduce cricket and squash, and give us a look at lacrosse and flag football. Plenty of new options for Snoop Dogg, who would look good in pads but might be troubled by Adam Zampa's subtle variation.

Some take whatever they please from the Olympics, the greatest assortment of sports at once the world can offer. It happens.

Boxing looks unlikely to be at the Los Angeles 2028 Games, the sweet science as heavily polluted as the Seine with miscreants intent on battling with the IOC.

The gold medal fate of Imane Khelif and Lin Yu-ting was even able to bring ideological crusades under the Olympic umbrella.

Take what you will from these Games. Pass on the yelling at strangers online. I'll miss the curious nature of it all.

Why can't we be entranced by race walking on a Saturday night, willing Jemima Montag to walk quicker, just don't run? Or yell at the TV incoherently at 4am, the swimmer's wake up hour, as someone in a gold cap touches the wall first.

Or be still impressed by Steph Curry sinking three pointer after three pointer when he's been doing it for 15 years.

Same goes for Chinese divers leaving no splash, and Korean archers hitting bullseye. That's perfection, kids.

Paris delivered.

The beauty of the background.

Legends reaching higher.

The almost-famous becoming household names. The unknown athlete jumping into our lives, but for a fleeting moment.

That unknown athlete is loved by those closest, and all of them will have something to talk about, forever and a day.