It was Juan Antonio Samaranch, the long-time Spanish IOC ringmaster, who at the end of each Olympic Games declared them to be the best ever – even when they clearly were not.

The only exception was Atlanta 1996, which was so pathetic that not even good old Juan Antonio dared to have the chutzpah to give them a great sound.

But wouldn’t he have loved Paris 2024? Because he would have known that this time-honored declaration would be met with applause.

Because in dark times, these games were more than just an enlightening distraction. They were uplifting, daring, different, vibrant and thoroughly modern. They were fun. They seemed to be exactly what we needed.

A century after the Chariots of Fire Games, it all began as the Olympic Games of Rain Boats, with a parade floating, soaked – and some said blasphemous – down the Seine.

Incredibly ambitious, incredibly unlucky with the weather, but triumphant in the end. Chapeau, Celine!

Then the sun came out, the size and ambition of the beautiful venues took your breath away and the sport lived up to the incomparable backdrop.

Thousands enjoy cross-country equestrianism at the Palace of Versailles… a Brazilian beach volleyball party under the Eiffel Tower… BMX freestylers seemingly flying as high as the obelisk of La Concorde.

What was not to like about this grandiose vision of Paris as a sports ground for all, “Games Wide Open” as the slogan put it? These makeshift stadiums, erected in emblematic places, conveyed that feeling.

If you don’t feel like exercising, why not join the crowds at the Tuileries and admire the Olympic cauldron rising at night? And if you do, why not join the 20,000 runners in the Night Marathon for all?

Then there was the early morning attraction around the gilded Pont Alexandre III. Who wants to see a marathon swim? Thousands, apparently.

For a century, the river was off-limits to visitors. And it probably still is. But Australian Moesha Johnson was prepared to take a nosedive into the Seine and celebrated her silver medal with a dose of antibiotics.

The show had to go on and its biggest superstars seemed inspired. Steph Curry’s miraculous three-pointers, Simone Biles’ gymnastic impossibilities, Novak Djokovic’s Golden Slam… the GOATs came into action.

And the breaking news? The Games had never felt so modern. In their urban center, Snoop Dogg skated with the celebs – Snoop was everywhere – and La Concorde became party central.

We all know that the dour IOC is desperate to get the kids excited. So much so that the kids are now taking gold, like 14-year-old skateboard queen Arisa Trew. At 21, repeat men’s champion Keegan Palmer must have felt like Methuselah.

But even sports that seemed inaccessible to beginners suddenly became part of the Olympics. The golf match at Le National was sensational and even moved the robot Scottie Scheffler to tears, while the tennis match at Roland Garros was more like a carnival than the French Open.

Old clichés about haughty Parisians flew out the window as the most welcoming hosts welcomed all the nonsense with unbridled enthusiasm.

Local heroes are always a help, and they gave their all for rugby genius Antoine Dupont and exceptional swimmer Leon Marchand, whose heroics brought other venues to a standstill.

Of course, when you see hordes of armed police officers happily loitering around the venues, you can’t help but think that all of this was only possible thanks to an incredibly expensive security operation.

They are now so gigantic and so unbelievably expensive. Do we even need games anymore in times of climate crisis?

Hell yeah.

Let us celebrate this overwhelming triumph of a city that has suffered extremist terrorist attacks over the past decade and is now emerging with new splendour as a City of Light, to mark this fantastic occasion with such enthusiasm and sheer joy.

Through the green and gold glasses of everyone from Jess Fox to Kaylee McKeown and, yes, even your mighty Raygun, Australia’s greatest Games looked kaleidoscopically wonderful.

But more than that, it felt like games the whole world would enjoy, a joyful celebration – not just of sport, but of life itself.

Merci beaucoup, Paris! Señor Samaranch would have known what to say…