On Rulon Gardner and the meaning of inspiration in sports.

The fourth installment of “Big Man, Little Countries.”

The size of the media contingent here—there are 29 journalists from Luxembourg, 13 from San Marino, and 13 from Malta—suggests that the Small States Games do not suffer from a lack of coverage in these population-poor nations. But so far as we can tell, we are the only members of the media from outside Europe. When we tell people that were here from America, were met with incredulous stares. Liechtensteiners inevitably follow up by asking if we saw the games circus-themed opening ceremony, a highly spirited, not-quite-Beijing-caliber spectacle featuring a falcon, a clown on stilts, and a giant slip-and-slide. When we confess we got in too late to see the show, their disappointment is obvious. This was Liechtensteins chance to show off for the world, and the world missed it.

A white cross rising above the Macacos slum marks the spot where people are burned alive. A starving horse, his ribs poking out, is hitched close by with a thin rope. A nearby soccer field is dotted with pieces of melted rubber. No games are played here. The Amigos dos Amigos gang that runs this favela has a ritual: Members stack tires around their enemies, pour in gasoline and light the tires on fire. This is called microwaving. Black smoke rises into the air. At a school down the hill, near the famous soccer stadium where the 2016 Olympic opening ceremonies will be held, the students hear the screams and cover their ears.