The Games are just a nice, positive way to build friendships

The words of Greg Louganis shine with warmth and wisdom: “The Games are just a nice, positive way to build friendships, camaraderie and, of course, self-esteem. Plus, the Games are a great opportunity for people to participate in sports who normally wouldn’t.” Though spoken in simplicity, these words carry the weight of an ancient truth—that human beings are not made to strive alone, but to grow together through play, through competition, and through shared effort. Louganis, who soared from the diving board into the waters of Olympic glory, knew well that the Games are not merely contests for medals, but sacred gatherings where souls are lifted by unity as much as by victory.

The origin of this thought lies in Louganis’s own life. As a young man who endured hardship, bullying, and the sting of feeling different, he discovered in sports a place where self-doubt could be transformed into confidence. The Games, whether the Olympics or local contests, became for him not just stages of triumph, but sanctuaries where individuals could find belonging. His words remind us that beyond competition lies something deeper: the weaving of friendships, the birth of camaraderie, and the healing of wounded esteem.

The ancients understood this well. In Olympia, when the city-states of Greece gathered for the sacred festival, enemies laid down their arms and marched together in peace. Athletes did not only wrestle or race for crowns of olive; they came to share in the unity of the human spirit. The Games were a pause from war, a time when men from rival lands could look upon each other not as foes, but as companions in the pursuit of excellence. Here we see Louganis’s truth: that the field of play builds bonds stronger than the walls of politics or the divisions of society.

Think also of the Special Olympics, founded by Eunice Kennedy Shriver, where athletes with intellectual disabilities found their place upon the track, the field, and the court. Before such Games, they were often excluded from the world of sports, overlooked and underestimated. But through these gatherings, they gained dignity, joy, and the priceless treasure of self-esteem. Here, too, we see Louganis’s wisdom: that the Games offer opportunity not only to the strongest, but to those who might otherwise never feel the thrill of participation.

The meaning deepens further when we see that friendship and camaraderie are not merely side-effects of the Games, but their true essence. The medal will tarnish, the records will fall, but the bond between competitors, the mutual respect forged in sweat and struggle, endures. Louganis reminds us that the noblest prize is not the laurel crown, but the lasting connection between souls who met in shared challenge. This is why the Games matter—not only to the champions, but to all who dare to take part.

The lesson for us is clear: we must honor the power of play, of contests, of shared striving. Whether in sports, in work, or in community life, seek opportunities to join with others in building trust and friendship. Do not pursue only the glory of winning, but the deeper joy of belonging. Encourage those who feel left out to step forward, to take part, to feel the strength that comes from being part of something larger than themselves.

Practically, this means saying yes to participation—whether by joining a team, supporting community events, or creating spaces where the excluded are welcomed. It means cheering not only the victor, but the effort of every competitor. It means remembering that the Games of life are not just about proving strength, but about nurturing the spirit, lifting the weak, and weaving the fabric of society with threads of respect and friendship.

So let Louganis’s words echo across time: let the Games be not only contests of strength, but festivals of the heart. For in them lies the chance to build camaraderie, to raise self-esteem, and to give voice and dignity to those who otherwise would remain silent. And in this, we glimpse the highest purpose of sport—not the fleeting glory of triumph, but the eternal glory of unity.