I was sitting on press row, field level, near the finish line, in Beijing National Stadium in August of 2008.

At the other end of the stadium, a tall, lean figure in yellow settled into the blocks, and the crowd made a sound like a speeding drone.

At the starting gun, he unfolded like a golf umbrella in high winds, immediately falling behind his competitors. Then he ran the curve like he was driving a German-engineered car on the Autobahn and his competitors were spinning their wheels in mud.

Usain Bolt finished in 19.30, then a world record and still an Olympic record. In 2009, he would improve the world record by running 19.19. That night in Beijing, he looked like something from another world.

That's probably the right way to view Bolt, because he is the rare Olympic athlete whose record has lasted.

The Olympics entertain. They also tutor.

At every modern Olympics, in virtually every event that can be objectively measured, we learn that the best athletes in the history of sports are competing today.*

(*With the exception of Bolt, who remains the king of sprinting.)

Take gymnastics. In 1980, Romania's Nadia Comaneci became celebrated as the greatest gymnast ever when she won two gold medals while becoming the first Olympian to score a perfect 10.0. And she earned two perfect 10s.

Watch Comaneci on YouTube, and you'll see a slender athlete who was more graceful than explosive. There is no way she could compete with Simone Biles, whose strength and daring allow her to perform maneuvers unheard of in Comaneci's day. The best modern women gymnasts are so powerful and sculpted that they are shaped almost like cubes.

Take swimming. Nineteen Olympic records were set in Paris this summer.

How does this inform our judgment of all-time greats in other sports?

There are a few Usain Bolts scattered through history. There are more versions of Biles — athletes who have used better training, nutrition, analytics and coaching to produce the kinds of performances that once would have been considered superhuman.

Shohei Ohtani, then, must be better than the legendary Babe Ruth.

Ohtani is bigger, stronger and faster; has had more longevity as a pitcher; and faces far superior competition. Ruth didn't have to play against anybody who looked like Bob Gibson or Pedro Martinez. Ohtani thrives against pitchers and hitters who benefit from biomechanical analysis, statistical analysis, high-level training and video study.

In fact, the main problem facing the modern athlete, as the Twins know well, is that striving for maximum explosiveness leads to injuries.

If the modern athlete is clearly better than those who played in the old days, how should we view Justin Jefferson?

The Vikings star has more receiving yards through four seasons than any player in NFL history, including the great Jerry Rice.

Rice had a poor rookie season, so the comparison might not yet be apt, but Jefferson is on a pace that could lead to him becoming the most productive receiver ever, if he can maintain his health.

Does this mean that Jefferson is better than Rice?

Not yet. But…

Rice played with two Hall of Fame quarterbacks, Joe Montana and Steve Young, and for a Hall of Fame coach who specialized in passing offenses, Bill Walsh.

Jefferson has thrived while playing with the good-not-great Kirk Cousins and his motley crew of backups, and while spending two seasons under a head coach whose background was in defense, Mike Zimmer.

Rice had excellent hands and was a tremendous route-runner. Jefferson has excellent hands and is a tremendous route-runner. Take it from someone who regularly saw Rice in person — Rice could do everything you want a receiver to do, including block, but Jefferson is a better pure athlete.

The future is unknowable, but know this — if Jefferson winds up with similar career statistics to Rice, he will have accumulated them against bigger, stronger and better-trained athletes.

The Olympics provide the proof.*

(*With the exception of the great Usain Bolt.)