Usain Bolt emulates Usain Bolt, who emulated Usain Bolt. The triple treble is his, perhaps forever

For the first time Usain Bolt looked old, a sexagenarian at a Thursday prom. The setting was imperfect, at these vaguely and confounding slow-burning Rio Olympic Games. A misty rain poured down on the bright blue running track of the Olympic stadium that was full, by Rio standards.

Once more Bolt was the ringmaster when the cameras zoomed in – a Samba dance, a Christ Redeemer arm spread and mock seriousness. He folded himself into the starting block at lane six, still, after all these years, a feat of awkward acrobatics for a man of 6' 5”.

Bolt was ready for his favourite race, the 200m. He got out of the blocks in outstanding fashion. His reaction time was 0.156 seconds, in the middle of the field, very decent for Bolt. He torched the curve and ran into a searing lead, soaring once more into the public’s imagination, the rest of the field already destroyed.

But Bolt’s final push, the tour de force so associated with the Jamaican, didn’t come.

He grimaced and clocked off at 19.78, a profoundly disappointing time in Bolt’s universe. Afterward, Bolt almost fretted. He was apologetic to himself and the world, but with the compulsory buoyance.

The triple treble

On Friday night, a full moon hovered over Rio and its sprawling north zone, with favelas and condominiums, and with the Olympic stadium, a revamped football stadium. It was another meandering evening, with the crowd looking aghast at the fast Kenyans in the 5000m women's finals and cheering Brazil’s pole-vaulter widely. Early on, Bolt had briefly appeared in a medal ceremony – for the 200m, his eighth medal.

But the night ended with Bolt, as it always does. Bolt was the last runner of the Jamaican quartet in the 4x100 men’s relay. An expectant crackle, one of admiration and farewell, boosted by Brazil’s participation, lingered in the night sky. Bolt and his Jamaican underlings pointed their fingers at the camera when they entered the stadium. The crowd in the bleachers barely contained their excitement, rising as one to their feet.

Asafa Powell, Yohan Blake and Nickel Ashmeade carried the baton on the first three legs for Jamaica – a tight race preceding the final leg. With a narrow lead, Bolt grabbed the baton and accelerated with the terminal velocity of a meteor and the regal speed and zest of a jaguar - a final burst of Bolt Supremacy.

He powered away with his huge strides. This was not a 200m grind. Bolt and his body were in sync with the universe; the gods aligned to propel Team Jamaica and Bolt to gold and a time of 37.27, finishing ahead of the United States of America, who were later disqualified, and the surprising Japanese.

An almost-farewell

There was one final victory lap to run, a Bolt ritual. He took the Jamaican flag, along with the rest of his team. They huddled and then circled the outside of the running track – the speedster conquering Rio one last time, leaving the Olympics in his trademark style, with a gold medal bungling around his neck, the climax of his a triple-treble obsession. He danced the Samba, went on a selfie-spree and, again, greeted the Jamaican delegation.

Bolt’s celebrations always reflected his personality – exuberant and without pretence. Last night was no different. Bolt and the Jamaicans respectfully turned towards the Kenyan national flag during the medal ceremony for the women’s 5000m. Then Bolt performed the "To-Di-World mime," evoking Carioca hysteria in the stands.

At the end, in a repeat of Thursday’s celebrations, he fell to his knees, bent forward and planted a kiss on the finish line, an intimate and tender goodbye – though not just yet.

Bolt will run the 2017 World Championship, one last gallop, but the Jamaican will leave athletics anaemic, drained of his enduring persona and unique athleticism, the sport entering the vale of normal scale humans again, the likes of Andre de Gasse and Lashawn Meritt emerging from the netherworld of the sport, for too long confined to a subdued underclass of subterraneans.

Watching Bolt is mesmerising and astounding, but confounding at the same time. He is the sprinter who is too tall to sprint, yet too fast not to sprint. Bolt has always struggled with his start, that split-second moment of shooting out of the blocks. But he tele-glides through the bend. In the homestretch he gains speeds and ascends heights beyond the realm of mortals.

On Friday, the most captivating and irresistible Olympian sped away one last time at the Summer Games.