Ryan Lochte's lies brought him the worldwide attention he's always craved

Published Nov. 15, 2016 2:13 p.m. ET

Chris Chase

It's the second Thursday of the Olympics. The cauldron is three days away from being snuffed. Medals are up for grabs in badminton, wrestling, hockey and a half-dozen other sports while American teams try to stay in medal contention in basketball, volleyball and water polo. Usain Bolt is going for history on the track. The American women's 4x100 relay team is preparing for an unprecedented time trial to see if they'll be allowed to compete in Friday's final. And all anyone can talk about is a bunch of American swimmers, a fake robbery and the manufactured, unnecessary drama that's already begun to overshadow the Olympic Games.

Ryan Lochte is a swimmer four years past his prime. He made no waves in the Rio pool and thus was forced to get attention other ways, like dyeing his hair gray(?) or guaranteeing Michael Phelps would return in Tokyo. It was all harmless and, frankly, with so many new faces on the American swim team, was good to hear from a hero of Olympics past. Then, just when it seemed like the Olympics were set to move on from Ryan Lochte, he was presented with another chance to step in the limelight, took it and ran, allegedly concocting a bizarre story in which he and three other American swimming teammates were robbed at gunpoint and then, after fleeing to the States while leaving his teammates to take the fall in Rio as the story fell crumbled around them all, Lochte kept up his charade, changing some key details but still mostly sticking to the original tale, even as his teammates reportedly, and wisely, came clean.

It's one of the most bizarre tales the Olympics has ever seen and it's far from over. But already left in its wake are the reputation of the American swim team, the good names of three young swimmers whose biggest crime was apparently acting like stupid college kids and the reputation of a vapid, lovable Olympic athlete who proved the timeless adage true once again: The cover-up is always worse than the crime.

Lochte's story never made sense, but since it played into the fears of Olympians in Rio and came from such a reliable narrator, there was no time to focus on such things. (Problem No. 1 with Lochte's story: He told Billy Bush how he refused to cooperate with a gun pressed against his head and described his reluctance not as fear or panic but as an affront. Here's Lochte, first describing what he told his "attackers" when they told him to get down on the ground:

The tough guy act might work if you were, you know, a tough guy. But for the majority of us who aren't, Lochte included, that's a terrifying story, not something you casually tell Billy Bush on Copacabana while trying to play it cool.

It never gelled. From the first moments there were people questioning it, and that group steadily grew as the hours and days progressed. In its place, people speculated about what actually went down.

Turns out the story as we now know it (and is liable to change in the next five minutes, so don't get too comfortable with a narrative) is actually far less incriminating than the wild guesses of drugs and brothels and brawls. Tying one off, being too rowdy, breaking something, getting mouthy with an employee who doesn't get paid enough to deal with your crap, having to pay your way out of a problem and going back home to sleep it off is from frat-boy 101. It's deplorable behavior but hardly cause for an international incident.

All that explains the behavior of Jack Conger (21) and Gunnar Bentz (20) and perhaps Jimmy Feigen (26). But Ryan Lochte is 32 years old. He's been to four Olympics and is, again, 32 years old. By that time in your life you should've learned a few things, namely: If you're drinking, handle your booze. And if you're sober, keep everyone else in line.

Lochte has more responsibility to be a leader. Conger and Bentz are great swimmers but, right now, are basically college kids who happen to be really good swimmers. Lochte has been to four Olympics, starred in a reality show and is a grown man. Forget the lying, the bailing and standing by a story nobody was buying. Ryan Lochte failed his teammates the instant things went south at that gas station. Then he compounded it every step of the way.

First, he lied to his mother, who talked to a reporter and thus started a game of telephone in a hundred languages. Rather than clarify the report, eating his words and explaining he'd misspoke to his mother, Lochte kept at it, adding more details as it went along.

Everybody should want a do over. The swimmers, who deservedly needed to blow off steam after months and years of building toward a week of competition that had just ended, could have acted less the fools. Lochte never should have fabricated any story, least of all one that touched on the sensitive subjects of crime in Brazil and the sense of American privilege. The Brazilian authorities could have let it go. Rather than have international media standing in front of police headquarters, Conger could be back in Austin getting ready for his senior year and the focus could be on the sports, where it belongs.

The image of a country and its Olympics were never going to be defined by a meathead telling an implausible story to the guy who used to host "Access Hollywood." There were still seven days left of the Games when the Lochte story broke, and before it all started to fall apart, people had already started to forget. Every time Usain Bolt stepped on a track or a gold medal was awarded or a grand display of sportsmanship was a chance to move on.

Instead, the Games are almost over and the Lochte story is dominating every conversation. It's always hard to guess how these types of stories will be remembered in the future — a footnote or a feature. But there's a serious chance the 2016 Olympics will go down as the Olympics of Ryan Lochte and his non-existent visit to gunpoint.

What's most amazing of all is that after Lochte's dud in the pool — a fourth in the 200 IM and an easy gold for a relay leg in the 4x200 — he leaves Rio more famous than ever, albeit for his gas-station infamy rather than his prodigious talents in the pool, which had always been overlooked anyway.

And there's the irony: For the past 12 years, all Ryan Lochte has wanted is to step out of Michael Phelps' shadow. He finally got his wish.