I Regret to Inform You the Real Reason the Olympics Condom Supply Ran Out is Not What You Think

PIERO CRUCIATTI. Getty Images.

It happens every two years. The world's foremost athletically fit young adults gather in one place. Nature does what it does. And within days, the "Condom Shortage" narrative takes over. As John Rich so eloquently reported on earlier:

In a world where all you hear about Zillennials is that they're no longer romantically pursuing each other, that the mating rituals that were go ingrained in my generation and all that came before us have been replaced by a sterile, online culture, this record-setting pace of condom consumption was inspiring. Life-affirming.

All the data shows young men in particular have been so brow-beaten by a campus culture that has turned the fine art of flirting into something sinister and predatory, that they've chosen celibacy over seduction. The path of least resistance over good, old-fashioned casual sex. 

So this condom news was welcome by anyone with an appreciation for young singles engaging in commitment-free hookups. It seemed to indicate the instinctive, noble act of sportfucking is not dead. That it's not just reserved for rock stars and NFL wide receivers. But also still practiced by the human races finest Bobsledders, Curlers, and Snowboard Halfpipe potheads. 

I mean, I'm sure this photo is AI, but the sentiment is very human:

As confirmed by at least one very real Summer Games Olympian:

… finish competing they experience a very strong emotional release.   

On top of that, they are in peak physical condition, with high levels of adrenaline and hormones activated by the competition.   

In addition, thousands of young athletes live together in the same place, far from their usual routine, sharing celebrations and an atmosphere of euphoria that encourages intimate connections.

Sadly though, we've come to learn the condom shortage is not about "intimate connections," but something far less romantic. 

Collectibles. Keepsakes. Souvenirs. No more than the Olympic version the swag people grab at the Super Bowl or their trips to Disney.

Let's check in with Figure Skating bronze medalist, former Dancing With the Stars contestant, and now skating commentator Adam Rippon:

Advertisement

“If you were wondering where 3,000 of the condoms went from the 2018 Olympics in Pyeongchang, I took them. … 

“I did eventually find them in the medical tent. In my mind, it was this lavish experience, but it was just a basket filled with condoms that said in Korean ‘generic condom.’ No Olympic rings. No fanfare. No frills.

“How do the athletes go through so many? I’ll tell you how I went through so many. I took that basket of condoms, and I opened my backpack, and I shoved maybe 3,000 of them in my backpack.

“I gave those to my friends as souvenirs.”

And confirmed four years ago by former Olympian from Madagascar, Mialitiana Clerc:

CBS News - Condoms are traditionally popular for Olympic athletes to take home as "a kind of gift" to friends, Alpine skier Mialitiana Clerc said. … 

"There were some boxes with a lot of condoms at the entrance of every building where we were staying at the village.

"Every day, everything was (gone). …

I already know that a lot of people are using some condoms or just taking them to give to their friends outside of the Olympics because it's a kind of gift for them," Clerc said.

So, sorry to disappoint you again, everybody. Any fantasies you have about the Milan-Cortina Games just being a giant, hedonistic Roman orgy between the most athletically fit people in all of winter sports are mistaken. All those prophylactics are just free stuff the competitors take home to give out as mementos. No different than the shitty keychains and cheap XL t-shirts that interns from the FM radio station give out at the sports bar. And most of them will probably sit in a junk drawer until way after their expiration dates. 

Keep this in mind for the Los Angeles Games in two years, because you know we'll be going through this same storyline all over again.