Mondo Duplantis has wound his way up a carpeted staircase, passing under chandeliers and all the delicate trappings of a gorgeous 18th- century villa near Musée d’Orsay. He is clutching an espresso and is mildly apologetic for sounding so croaky. Around 14 hours have passed since the stunning jump, a world record, that garnished his Olympic pole vaulting title and it is fair to say he has not slept for many of them. There have been childhood friends to party with and several months of intense dietary discipline to fleetingly cast aside.
“I was able to have some fried chicken last night and then pizza probably two hours ago, honestly,” he says at a half-whisper. “So we are off to a good start.” This might be the morning after the night before but Duplantis has earned the right to kick back. The world has cottoned on to the fact he is a phenomenon, so utterly brilliant at a compelling, bizarre discipline that nobody really comes close.
