Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Riley Gaines has lost another lawsuit.

At this point, I’m beginning to wonder if anyone in the history of American sports has managed to turn fifth place into such a full-time career.

Because here is the part of the Riley Gaines story that somehow keeps getting lost in the political fog machine: she did not finish second to a transgender athlete who barely edged her out for first place.

She didn’t lose a championship.

She didn’t get bumped from the podium.

She didn’t finish behind Lia Thomas.

She tied Lia Thomas for fifth place.

Fifth.

There were four women ahead of both of them. The official results show Gaines and Thomas touching the wall in exactly the same time, 1:43.40. (Supreme Court⁠)

And yet somehow this fifth-place tie became the origin story for a political career, lawsuits, congressional appearances, media appearances and an entire movement devoted to convincing America that Riley Gaines was robbed of something monumental.

The trophy situation certainly made for an awkward podium moment. NCAA officials initially had only one fifth-place trophy available and Thomas was the swimmer photographed holding it. Gaines later received her own fifth-place trophy. (PolitiFact⁠)

But let’s be painfully precise about what happened in the pool.

If Lia Thomas had never entered that race, Riley Gaines still would have finished fifth.

That isn’t my interpretation. It’s arithmetic.

Four swimmers finished ahead of them. Gaines and Thomas tied for fifth. Remove Thomas from the race and Gaines moves into fifth by herself. She doesn’t suddenly become fourth. She doesn’t become third. She doesn’t become the national champion.

She remains fifth.

And now, years later, Gaines has another legal loss to add to the résumé. A federal judge dismissed the lawsuit against the NCAA, ruling that the plaintiffs had not established the NCAA as a recipient of federal financial assistance sufficient to support their Title IX claim. Gaines and the other plaintiffs have indicated they intend to appeal. (UPI⁠)

Which brings us to the remarkable part.

Imagine explaining this entire saga to someone who knows absolutely nothing about American politics or college swimming:

“Who was Riley Gaines?”

“She was a college swimmer.”

“Was she an NCAA champion?”

“No.”

“Did she lose the championship to a transgender swimmer?”

“No.”

“Did she finish second?”

“No.”

“Third?”

“No.”

“Fourth?”

“No.”

“So what happened?”

“She tied for fifth.”

“With the transgender swimmer?”

“Yes.”

“And the transgender swimmer beat her?”

“No. They tied.”

“And four other women finished ahead of both of them?”

“Yes.”

“And this became a major political cause?”

“Apparently.”

At some point, you almost have to admire the sheer efficiency of the American outrage machine.

Most athletes spend their careers trying to be remembered for winning.

Riley Gaines managed to become nationally famous for fifth place.

And that’s really the strange irony here. Whatever anyone thinks about transgender participation in women’s sports, policies surrounding eligibility, Title IX or the NCAA, those are legitimate subjects for public debate. They can and should be discussed using rules, evidence, athletic data and actual competitive outcomes.

But turning a tie for fifth into evidence that someone was personally displaced from greatness requires leaving the scoreboard somewhere back in 2022.

Because the scoreboard doesn’t care about the political narrative.

It says:

Five.

Not second.

Not runner-up.

Not robbed of first.

Fifth.

And apparently, after all these years, fifth place is still trying to become first place in the biography.