It’s time to come out and play. Maybe there’s a chance for a reprieve, no matter how brief, from all the problems throughout this burning world.

“Where’s the champagne?” U.S. rugby sevens player Perry Baker asked jokingly before a news conference Monday.

Wearing dark sunglasses, he smiled and stared at a cup with feigned disappointment.

“What?” he wondered. “No Casamigos?”

Baker, a 38-year-old former football player, is participating in his third Olympics. He relished the opportunity to return after experiencing a letdown at the Tokyo Games. The quiet atmosphere — no fans, teams stuck mostly in isolation — was far different from his experience at the 2016 Rio Games. He can remember the eerie silence as the United States lost an early lead to Britain and exited with a quarterfinal defeat three years ago. He can imagine, if that game had been played before a spirited rugby crowd, his team finishing stronger and winning. Back then, Baker was 35 and feared his last Olympic memory would be that strange and sterile ouster.

“I’m really grateful to be here, enjoying these moments and memories,” Baker said.

There’s so much more to enjoy this time. People. The city. Athletes from other countries. The whole Olympics, not some quarantined imitation.

Contrary to what the Pandemic Games laid bare, the Olympics aren’t merely elite competitions staged to collect television revenue. Where they happen matters. What you learn during the adventure stays with you longer than the triumphs and setbacks. The event is chock-full of fleeting worldwide exhibitions, supposedly for the sake of sports diplomacy.

You don’t simply go to the Olympics. You live the Olympics for as long as you’re there. The experience is a bubble, but it spreads to cover enough of the host city to manufacture an interesting kind of culture. You take it for granted until a global health crisis strikes and you realize that competitions and medal podiums alone aren’t satisfying enough. It’s true for the spectators and the athletes.

“When you’re building up to a big event, you have these little milestones to tick off,” said Luuka Jones, a canoe slalom athlete from New Zealand who is competing in her fifth Olympics. “One of them was coming into the Olympic Village to join the wider New Zealand team. That’s the special part about the Games. You’re more than just yourself and your sport. You’re part of something much bigger.”

In 2008, Jones made her first Olympic team at age 19. She’s 35 now. She won a silver medal in the women’s kayak single in 2016. But to make it back for a fifth time, she had to outlast severe long covid symptoms. Later, she suffered a neck injury and wondered whether she should quit. But she recovered from it all, and with this opportunity, she’s serious about maximizing every aspect of what it means to be an Olympian, whether she’s in the river 0r roaming during free time. The 19-year-old who was happy to be there in 2008 now understands the urgency of every moment.

“I have to make this one count,” Jones said.

It’s too early to capture the feel of these Games. A few events begin Wednesday. The Opening Ceremonies, featuring a four-mile boat parade of nations along the Seine, provide an official kickoff Friday. Many locals are fleeing the city to avoid feeling invaded, leaving a few neighborhoods so vacant that you can walk down the middle of street. In other areas, particularly near the Eiffel Tower and around the Seine, the security measures — police, military, barricades — seem extreme, even by Olympic standards. Neither Ethan Hunt nor Jason Bourne could get within 10 feet of the Eiffel Tower right now.

Paris is all-in on spectacle, and it must use the natural beauty of its architecture to frame these Olympics, marrying art and sport in a manner few countries can. If the plan succeeds, this will be a Games full of picturesque views at nearly every venue, a postcard kind of majesty made to seem simple by leaning into the classic beauty of long-standing edifices. You’re supposed to see stunning, unavoidable, effortless elegance that reflects Paris at its best and the Olympics at their most aspirational.

With so many nations quarreling against each other and within themselves, it’s hard to know whether the grand Olympic ideals of peace and unity will resonate or seem naive. But we’re all outside again, unmasked, wandering around and hoping to be inspired. The Olympics can’t bring together entire nations, despite the rhetoric of the International Olympic Committee. But it’s possible to create snapshots of hope, and there’s no better place to create memorable images than Paris.

At the Olympic Village, the Australian team is neighbors with its fellow Oceania countries. Anna Meares, the Australia chef de mission and two-time Olympic cycling champion, said the Fiji rugby sevens team — the world-renowned, two-time gold medalist on the men’s side — serenades the Australians “constantly” in good fun.

“It’s really quite beautiful,” she said.

She probably wasn’t talking about their voices, but let’s hope that kind of spirit carries through these Games.