You Don’t Have to Match China to Host a Good Asian Games. You Just Can’t Treat Athletes Like an Afterthought.

The 2008 Beijing Olympics, the 2022 Winter Olympics, and the Hangzhou Asian Games set a high bar. Their scale, organization, and ability to mobilize people and resources are hard to match. Expecting every host to reach that bar is unfair. It is like expecting every badminton player to be Lin Dan.

But there is a difference between failing to reach the top and failing to meet a basic standard. The first is a limit on ability. The second is a choice about attitude. Nagoya showed the second.

Chinese standards are a ceiling, not a passing grade

China’s ability to host major events comes from a system that can concentrate resources on a single goal. Few countries can copy that. No one should expect them to. The Beijing opening ceremony, the Winter Olympics bubble, and Hangzhou’s venue construction all required money and coordination on a scale that is not normal.

But the passing grade for an international event is not Beijing or Hangzhou. The passing grade is simpler. Athletes need sleep, hot food, and a ride to the venue on time. Venues can be old. The opening ceremony can be short. Fireworks can be skipped. Frugal hosting is a good idea. But frugality cannot mean cutting the athletes’ beds and meals, or leaving them without transport.

Making a two-meter basketball player sleep in a bed where he cannot stretch his legs is not frugality. Making a delegation wait six hours at the airport without food is not frugality. Both are failures of basic organization.

Nagoya’s failures came from preparation, not ability

Most of Nagoya’s failures were not cases of Japan being unable to do something. They were cases of the organizers not planning to do it.

The organizing committee skipped a traditional athletes’ village. It used container housing and cruise ships for about 17,000 people. The beds in the containers were 195 centimeters long and 90 centimeters wide. In twin rooms, the gap between beds was about one person wide. A South Korean basketball official said athletes over two meters tall could not stretch their legs. “This is unreasonable.” South Korean players posted videos of leaking sinks and wet floors. One caption read: “Please help us.” India built copies of the container rooms at home so its athletes could get used to them.

Airport transfers were worse. On September 16, the Chinese delegation headquarters and several teams landed in Nagoya and could not leave for hours. The problem was not a flight delay. The host’s accreditation system failed. The back end could not retrieve participant information, so no vehicles could be dispatched. Of the 21-member Chinese gymnastics team, only two people showed up correctly in the system. The Indian rowing team landed at 10 a.m. and waited more than four hours. The Sri Lankan delegation took 24 hours from landing to boarding a vehicle. The Chinese badminton team eventually relied on the Chinese Consulate-General in Nagoya, which coordinated with local Chinese residents to rent cars. During the wait, the host provided water. It did not provide food.

Systems fail. That is normal. But an international multi-sport event should have manual backups, emergency food, and a plan for dispatching vehicles when the system goes down. Nagoya had none of that. This was not a technical problem. It was a preparation problem.

Then there is the budget. Nagoya promised about 105 billion yen in its 2016 bid. By 2026, total spending was approaching 370 billion yen, more than three times the original figure. After the budget spun out of control, the organizers did not add safeguards. They cut costs on athletes’ beds, transport, and meals. When the number of participants exceeded the original estimate of 15,000, organizing committee president Hideaki Omura said there was “neither the manpower nor the budget” to arrange for the extra people. “If they still wish to come, they must arrange it themselves.”

That statement treated athletes as an inconvenience. It also showed the organizing committee’s priority. The athletes were not guests. They were a cost.

Hangzhou shows that thoughtfulness is not the same as spending

Hangzhou did spend a lot. But the details people remember did not come from the size of the budget. They came from homework done years in advance. Before the Asian Games, Guali Town in Xiaoshan District held more than 100 kabaddi events in schools and communities. The Asian Kabaddi Federation later named it the “Home of Kabaddi in China.” That recognition came from studying a non-Olympic sport, understanding its audience in South Asia, and promoting it on purpose.

When sepak takraw was played in Jinhua, Thai spectators banged gongs and drums. Thai reporters and players said it felt like a home arena. Jinhua is not a sepak takraw center. But the organizers studied which countries care about the sport, how their fans behave, and how to make visitors feel respected.

None of that required the resources of a nationwide system. It required the willingness to learn about each sport and each delegation’s needs before the event. It also required finding weak points early. That is not a question of money. It is a question of attention.

Frugal hosting can cost more

Nagoya advertised itself as a model of simple hosting. It wanted to set a new standard after the Olympics. It failed. To make up for a simpler opening ceremony, the committee bought AR and VR equipment. After cutting volunteers, it built automated systems to keep things running. The system collapsed during the arrival rush. After basic services failed, the committee added money for housing and transport.

The pattern is simple. Cutting basic services creates bigger costs later. Saving money on volunteers can mean spending money on software. Cutting buses can mean spending money on diplomacy and damage control. The bill arrives later, usually with interest.

Frugality is not the same as shabbiness. Simplicity is not the same as neglect. The point of frugality is to spend money where it matters, not to remove the things that matter.

The Asian Games are not the host’s private event

Athletes from 45 countries and regions come to the Asian Games with their own nations behind them. Every service the host provides is a statement about how much those athletes matter. At a minimum, the host should let athletes sleep and eat. It should also get them to the venue on time. That is not luxury. It is the basic duty of a host.

That minimum does not require grand venues or a long opening ceremony. It requires preparation. The host has to learn each sport and each delegation’s needs years before the event. It also has to find weak points early. When the budget breaks, the host should cut the flashy parts first, not the athletes’ beds and meals.

Nagoya did the opposite. Its venues were old and its opening ceremony was simple. It had no fireworks. None of that was the problem. The problem was the order of cuts. When money ran short, the committee cut beds, buses, volunteers, and food. It did not cut the AR and VR equipment it bought to dress up the opening ceremony. The money was there. It went to the wrong place.

You do not have to match China, but you cannot muddle through

China hosts well because its system can concentrate resources on a major event. Other countries cannot copy that. That is fine. But there is a difference between being unable to match China and being unwilling to cover the basics.

The first is a limit on ability. The second is a choice about attitude. Ability has a ceiling. Attitude has a floor. We can understand the ceiling. We should not lower the floor.

Not every badminton player can be Lin Dan. But a professional player should be able to serve and play a full match. If he cannot do those things, the problem is not talent. The problem is that he did not prepare to play.

Nagoya did not fail because it could not produce a Beijing-style spectacle. No one asked for that. It failed because it could not provide a bed and a meal, or get athletes to the venue, and then blamed a lack of manpower and budget. That is not a failure of ability. It is a failure of will.

Hosting a major event is not a dinner party. But guests should not wait hungry for six hours. Not every host can be Lin Dan. Every professional player should at least get the shuttle over the net.