Jack Woolley walked away from us for the second time in eight hours and then stopped, turned and smiled. “I hope that was better than earlier – I was fuming, so I was!” And then, five yards beyond us, he spotted a familiar face among the taekwondo officials and melted into a hug. The tears that he had been holding back for most of the day came now and the 2024 Olympics fell off him in waterfalls.
Who knew taekwondo could be such a whirlpool of emotions?
This was the longest day and it so very nearly ended with Woolley two minutes away from a bronze medal. The bare statistics of it will show that the 25-year-old from Tallaght had two matches and lost them both but dry numbers can’t convey the day of sport it was. He was in, he was out, he was back and he was gone. And through it all, he was himself.
Taekwondo is basically the Olympics on fast-forward. Woolley waited for three years to get back on to the five-ringed court after going out in the first round in Tokyo. Of the 133 Irish athletes here, he was the 129th to start his competition. He came to Paris as the face of taekwondo in Ireland, the lad from the TV ads, the quiet hope for a sneaky medal if everything went his way.
And then it looked like it was over, inside the time it takes to boil an egg.
Woolley was beaten by Gashim Magomedov of Azerbaijan. In taekwondo, the rounds last two minutes and it’s best of three. Woolley lost the first 7-4 and the second 12-6. And that was that. Four minutes of combat with a minute’s break in between. Everything dispensed with at warp speed.
This was just around midday and when Woolley came to talk us, he looked entirely resigned to his fate. He spoke about what he’d been through just to get to the Olympics, about the wear and tear on his body from having to make weight, about his pride at becoming a two-time Olympian. His over-riding emotion was sadness – you could see he was determined not to let the tears come in public.
“I don’t think anybody comes to the Olympics to not get a medal. I’m obviously very devastated but if you’d told me six months ago that I’d be here in the first place I’d laugh at you. To go out against an opponent who I know is really tough. We’ve fought each other – that’s the third time now – it was 1-1 going into that. Unfortunately today it didn’t go according to plan.”
But wait! It wasn’t the end! It walked like the end and it quacked like the end but it was, in fact, just the beginning. The taekwondo competition here has a slightly convoluted format – the six fighters who lose to the eventual finalists get to come back in and go at it for the bronze medals. Woolley would only exit the competition when Magomedov did.
It felt like thin gruel, in all honesty.
“The fact that he is a good opponent is good for me because if he makes it to the final I can get back in and go for a bronze medal,” Woolley said, dutifully. “But that’s out of my hands now. I don’t want to dwell on that too much. I’ll be ready to go back into the ring when I have to.”
So he went away to meet his family. And we waited at Le Grand Palais, presuming we’d be waiting in vain. We became invested in the fate of Magomedov, hoping he’d turn out to be a kind of Azerbaijani Gary Mackay. We were sceptical, in all fairness. But then he started tearing through the field – spin-kicking his way through to the final and looking every inch a potential champion. By mid-afternoon, Woolley had his reprieve.
He bounced back into the arena just after eight o’clock Paris time, his arms raised to the Irish acclaim raining down from the stands. His opponent was Spain’s Adrian Vicente Yunta, the second seed and someone Woolley is entirely familiar with from the circuit. All sadness gone, a definite chance now.
Even to the untrained taekwondo eye, their match was a classic. The margins were minuscule – Yunta won the first round by a single point, the second on a countback. Ultimately, Woolley came up just short again. But everyone’s Olympics comes to an end – all you have sometimes is the way you go out.
“I loved every second of that,” Woolley said. “I have to say, although the result wasn’t there, I’m proud of myself that I showed a true representation of my ability. Me and that Spanish lad have taken matches off each other. I think it’s gonna be my time next time – but hopefully that’s not until LA and in the final. I just really buzzed off that.
“I did a lot of psychology work recently, and my coach even picked up on it. He said, “You look like a different person.” And you know what it is? I’m enjoying it and I think that’s all anyone can ask for.
“And I hope that that showed at home and it encourages everybody else to get involved in the sport or 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.”
Jack Woolley can. With blood on his dobok, sweat in his hair and tears in his eyes, he walked away from the longest day happy with that much at least.
