Scenario 1 :
Lowtech Games

In the face of the climate and social emergency, society has undergone major reforms. The majority of the population lives in collective housing, vegetarianism is the norm and sport is now about sharing, leisure and health. Practising sport requires very little equipment (lumberjack, garage gym, etc.). The Games are the only international competition sponsored by public services. Participants have to use soft mobility to get to the competition venue.

In four days' time, it's 25 January. Gaïa, sitting on the deck of the yacht, is discreetly trying to hide her tears. She misses Noé, her little boy, every minute of the day, and sometimes her emotions boil over in the face of the incandescent sun on the ocean. It's already three weeks since she left for Costa Rica with her team, for the football events at the 2048 Games. The crossing went exceptionally well. The trade winds kept their promise, the dolphins put on their finest show, and the encounters made during the stopovers will live long in the memory. As for life in the community, close to the elements, it's just a fabulous marine version of what she experienced in France.

At home, Gaïa already shares her life with her five teammates and their families, amidst an edible forest, goats, and chickens. Her son is growing up in a close-knit eco-village, where she knows everyone has done a brilliant job of taking over during her absence. But the drastic reduction in working hours has been applied to top athletes as to other professions, and Gaïa has always spent a lot of time with Noé. So she wonders if he understands, at the age of 4, why his mother has been away for three months. In a few hours' time, they will reach Puerto Limón in sweltering heat, a festival atmosphere, and a harbor full of supporters.

On the horizon, the Costa Rican coastline takes shape. Gaïa wipes away her tears and remembers how far she's come. Even as a child, her dream was to become a footballer. Back then, 11-a-side football was played in huge, grass-covered stadiums surrounded by stands. It was the most widely played and followed sport in the world. Gradually, however, an upsurge in public awareness, laws, and ecological standards brought about profound changes in society. When the state took over the stadiums to create urban farms and promote food security, it was a huge loss. With her team, they took advantage of the aid dedicated to eco-minded people to set up together and stick together. And since cats and dogs don't mix, the old parking lot at the nearby shopping center quickly became their new playground. The rusty parking meter in the middle of the tall grass is now the last vestige of yesteryear, and sport has naturally found its way back into people's daily lives, at the bend in a street, a lake, or a garden.

Triathlons have become terrathlons (orienteering, river swimming, and mountain biking), lumberjacking has become fashionable, and soccer has regained its status as the great favorite. Sport is now about sharing, leisure, and health. Obesity rates have plummeted, as have youth suicides. World rankings have disappeared, giving way to local, national, and, to a lesser extent, continental competitions. Performances are different from what they used to be. No matter, the stadiums have been mourned, and Gaïa wouldn't go back for anything in the world. However, an international meeting secretly haunts the dreams of all athletes, like a discreet, muted soundtrack: the Games.

Held every four years, they feature just three teams per sport and continent. It's a rare opportunity. So to go to Costa Rica if you've never left Europe, to sail there and defend the colors, hopes, and values of an entire nation, who could refuse? Nobody, says Gaïa, not even a mother. The wind picks up. The boat pitches. Her friends join her outside to reduce sail. To port, a catamaran overtakes them: it's the Ukrainian Gym Garage team waving goodbye. Last maneuvers and fraternal moments at sea before arriving.  

Today is January 25. In Puerto Limón, the whole country seems to have come together to cheer on the athletes. The streets are filled with flags, banners, and painted faces. Televisions are set up to broadcast the competitions live, and supporters everywhere are chanting slogans of support. It's a huge open-air party. In France, every village has been transformed into a fan zone, decked out in the colors of Costa Rica, to discover the culture of the host country. In Beurizot, Côte-d'Or, the fervor and joy are in full swing. While waiting for the match, people sing in Spanish, learn the local folklore to dance together, and taste Gallo Pinto, the national dish based on black beans, accompanied by plantains. Here, even in a village of sportspeople, a large number of inhabitants are vegetarians since the introduction of a tax on meat products and the multiplication of collaborative, community-grown vegetable gardens. Exotic products are also rare, so we make the most of it. In the central square, a giant screen waits to broadcast the first images of the France-Brazil soccer match. 
Sitting up front, Noé is already shouting like a madman the few words the school has taught him for the occasion: "¡Venga mamá!".

It's 4:30 p.m., and Gaïa is putting on her jersey. On her back, she scratches the slogan of Ensemble-Habitat, the French public housing service. This system of removable logos has extended the life of sports uniforms, and she hopes, one day, to be able to pass on hers to the future hope of soccer, like a story that lives on.  

The game is about to begin. It's being played in a shady alleyway near the port. Gaïa is disappointed; her team is better on the open field. No matter, it's too late to panic. Two trunks are set up on either side of the pitch, and the referee tosses a coin: it's up to the French to start the match. Fifty minutes of play begin. The Brazilians quickly demonstrate their mastery of the ball. The exchanges are rapid and the passes precise. The first goals follow one another.

The spectators, massed on the sidewalks and staircases of the surrounding buildings, vibrate to every action. All over the world, cheers, whistles, cries of frustration, and joy animate the gathered crowds. On-screen, dribble after dribble. Gaïa escapes down the left flank and crosses perfectly for her teammate to volley home. The ball skims the wooden post. Noé holds his breath. The ball is returned to midfield, where a new battle ensues. Suddenly, an opening is created. Gaïa rushes forward, intercepts a pass, and launches a counterattack, avoiding the opposing feet. The ball bounces off a wall and flies straight into the net. It's France's first goal.  

The match ends 25–11 to the Brazilians. Their victory is crushing. But Gaïa, buoyed by the echo of the applause, is at the pinnacle of her sport. As the number of participants in the Games is limited, each team plays all the others. But it's only the first match, and she's already lived the dream of her life. And in front of his screen, surrounded by all the athletes' families, carried away by the party, the Latin music, and the sweet smell of mangoes, Noé understands.