Sinead O'Carroll Reports from Paris

STEPPING OUT ONTO the vibrant purple mat, dramatically fixed under a majestic glass nave built to wow the crowd at the 1900 Paris Universal Exhibition, Jack Woolley had just six minutes to define his second Olympic journey.

Sport is cruel.

What a trite thing to write. A truism of all truisms.

But watching the 25-year-old Dubliner lose his first round-of-16 match against 10th seed Gashim Magomedov, nothing else would come to mind.

In the shape of his career after cutting six kilos to make the 58kg weight, Woolley knew how competitive the Azerbaijani would be having fought him twice previously with the tally one apiece.

“I don’t think anybody comes to the Olympics to not get a medal,” he says in the aftermath. “I’m obviously very devastated.”

He does, however, take consolation in the fact that he has made history by simply competing in Grand Palais – the first two-time Irish Olympian in his sport of taekwondo.

There are also fewer tears than after his corresponding match in Tokyo three years ago because he, like his teammates Kellie Harrington and Paul O’Donovan, is just simply loving his sport.

“I went into this to enjoy it, because, six months ago, I wasn’t in the best head space. I wasn’t in the best physical condition,” he explains. “I’d had to make weight over 20 times last year. 58 kilos for me is pretty tough. It’s about six kilo cuts. So it’s very draining on the body.

“So at the end of last year, I kind of had enough of it, and I used that time with an amazing team in Sport Ireland to get my head back in the game, to be the best I’ve ever been, the best shape I’ve ever been.”

How does he deal with that unpredictability? That idea that his has worked his whole sporting career to see the dream end in six minutes, after two rounds and two refereeing challenges do not go his way.

“You can be in the best shape and just something doesn’t go your way, like a video replay, or your last-minute nerves or something like that,” he says with a maturity and reflectiveness of an athlete who has learned from previous journeys. “Like not saying that that happened to me, but you never know what happens on the day in this sport. And that’s kind of why I love it.”

It was an outside chance, but there was also a sliver of the dream remaining.

Taekwondo has changed its rules in line with other sports for Paris 2024 to offer a repechage to athletes. The competitors who lose to the eventual finalists in the last 16 and quarter finals face each other for the chance to duel for two available bronze medals.

The cruelty may be compounded by a seven-hour wait with the hope draining whatever energy is left in the depleted 58kg body or it may be fended off by a spectacular run by a morning nemesis.

The numbers weren’t adding up at noon but by 5.02pm, the 10th seed Azerbaijani had helped his Irish foe to a second chance. His own talents recognised, match planning executed and former Olympic champion seen off, he was looking for glory in a gold medal match.

Much like Clare after a Munster championship, or Emmanuel Macron in a French election, Woolley was reignited for the knock-out bouts.

Facing the second seed, Spain’s Adrián Vincente, Woolley’s flexibility and range were on show from the first second.

Leg flares Rhys McClenaghan would be proud of, he started to get scores on the board but the Spaniard is a specialist at covering himself so many of the Jobstown man’s hits weren’t securing the power needed to bother the scorekeepers.

“I could hear by the crowd that it was entertaining. Throwing legs a bit as usual, that’s me,” smiles Woolley after coming off the mat in the narrowest of defeats.

Reflecting on how close the matchup was, he said if Vincente had stepped out of the ring 0.1 seconds later than he did, the Dubliner would have won that round.

In the end, it was 10-9 to Spain.

The second round was an altogether more defensive affair, the 2-2 score having to go to countback to see whose two was more valuable.

The favoured fighter in the seedings got the nod again.

Tiny margins that require silver linings.

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“I loved every second of that,” he says, all composure. “I just really buzzed off that much better than any performance that the Irish public have seen. Unfortunately, our sport isn’t televised all year round and everything, and you only get to see like the Olympics. Hopefully that can change in the future, and you just get to see what Jack Woolley is really made of.

“I’m enjoying it, and I think that’s all anyone can ask for. And I hope that that showed at home, and encourages everybody else to get involved in the sport or to keep going with the sport, because we’re having fun. You know, it’s the Olympics. Not every young guy from Tallaght can say he’s a two-time Olympian.”

Thanking the journalists who bombarded him with questions not just about his emotions, feelings and future, but about the technical aspects and inner workings of taekwondo, he said he hoped his answers were better than they were earlier in the day when he was ‘in his head’ and ‘fuming’.

A silver medal for the Azerbaijani had changed his viewpoint of that first defeat. His performance in the second round had shifted his belief in himself. The beauty of the Grand Palais allowed him to drink in the moment. (‘How does this compare to other venues? You’ve got eyes. You can see it yourself. Look at it. It’s absolutely beautiful. It is the best stadium that has ever been in this sport. Nothing will ever compare to this.’)

The ambition propelled him forward to start thinking about LA 2028. (‘Me and that Spanish lad have taken matches off each other. I beat him in the European Championships two years ago. He beat me in the final European games last year. Now, he beat me by a point at the Olympics. I think it’s gonna be my time next time, but hopefully that’s not until LA and in the final.’)

Recorders full of Olympian reflections, the journalists left to hunch over their laptops. Woolley made his way to a friend’s waiting embrace. He dived in and the tears came. One point or a split second away from staying in the game.

The hope still hurts.