TOKYO — She couldn’t be here, in the stands at Asaka Shooting Range, so Ana English did what any good mom would do if the pursuit of her daughter’s dream came in the midst of a pandemic: She invited over some 60 family and friends, threw some brats on the grill, made some green chili — her daughter’s favorite — shredded some pork barbecue and in general made way too much food.

“A few people are still here, maybe half a dozen,” she said by phone from Monument, Colo. “We opened some champagne. Sorry my voice is so hoarse. It isn’t usually that way.”

It was just before 2 a.m. Monday in Monument. The party had begun at 5 p.m. Sunday. At some point in the midst of those nine hours, Ana’s daughter Amber had qualified for the final in the women’s skeet shooting at the Tokyo Olympics. At some point in the midst of those nine hours, Amber English won gold.

“It was amazing,” Ana English said. “All these people who have known her since she was a baby, just rooting for her and crying for her. We had people all over the country watching online.”

Ana English was watching online — and, when Amber advanced to the finals, on TV — surrounded by friends and family because she is like every other Olympic parent, save for the odd coach or support staff member or even journalist: prohibited from attending in person. Like so many elements of the Tokyo Olympics, that wasn’t the plan.

“My son and myself and some other friends, we were all planning on being there,” Ana English said. “And that all changed.”

She spoke about her own case specifically. She was speaking for hundreds metaphorically.

“My dad booked tickets for this contest five years ago,” said Jagger Eaton, the Americans’ first medalist in the new Olympic sport of skateboarding. “It was really unfortunate that he couldn’t do it, couldn’t be here today.”

These Olympics are different because, just two weeks before Opening Ceremonies, the Japanese government responded to rising cases of the coronavirus here by completely banning fans from the stands. That has provided these Games with an odd in-person feel, which is hollow.

American fans — and, more importantly, American families — have known since March that they wouldn’t be able to watch their sons and daughters, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters compete in person. There are exceptions, of course. Lee Keifer, who won gold in the women’s foil fencing competition Sunday, is joined here by her husband, Gerek Meinhardt, because Meinhardt also fences. Brooke Forde, a swimmer on the American team, has pictures snapped on the pool deck by her father, Pat, a veteran sportswriter covering the Games for Sports Illustrated.

But for most of the 600-plus members of Team USA — not to mention almost all of the more than 11,000 athletes competing here from around the world — celebrating a medal from Tokyo comes by phone or FaceTime. And it’s not just the celebration. The run-up to the Games was completely different. Instead of seeing her 31-year-old daughter on the ground in Japan — “We were going to let her do her own thing, too,” her mother said — Ana flew with one of her cousins from Colorado to Georgia, where Amber lives and trains, in late June.

“We had a great girls’ weekend,” Ana said. “But we had to plan it out. Those last two weeks, she just kind of had to drill down and get her head in gear. She really wanted to focus in.”

The focus, in part, came from training with Vincent Hancock, the veteran American shooter who is a former sergeant in the U.S. Army Marksmanship Unit, which English joined after failing to qualify for the Games in 2012 and 2016. Hancock competed Monday in his fourth Olympics, winning an unprecedented third gold in skeet. Because she had worked so closely with Hancock — and because Hancock had helped her work through the death of her father, Mike, in 2016 — English had something resembling family on the ground here.

“After [my dad] passed, it was hard to get back on the range, because it actually reminded me of him,” English said after the competition Monday. “Vinny was the one who got me back out there. I owe him a lot for pushing me to get back out there and shoot.”

When Ana English left her daughter behind in Georgia, she felt good about Amber’s frame of mind. “You could tell she felt very confident,” Ana said. So all that was left was to prepare from afar. English’s family and friends took a giant poster board, colored it red, white and blue and plastered it with pictures of themselves cheering, then finished it off with a podium — bronze, silver and gold. They shipped it off to Tokyo, and it was waiting for Amber when she arrived in the Olympic Village.

And then, of course, the party. If there are 600 American athletes here, at least that many watch parties are being staged by their families. NBC is facilitating some of them, offering to fly a few family members of each Olympian to Orlando so they can have something of a celebratory, communal experience — and so the network can get the kind of family reaction shots that so define Olympic broadcasts.

Ana English, though, remained at home in Colorado. Amber’s grandmothers, 84 and 83, vowed to stay up into the wee hours. Though the final, in which six women competed for the medals, was on TV, the gathering began when the qualifying rounds got underway, before the broadcast began. Ana, a competitive shooter in college, was left to refresh an Internet screen — and interpret for the crowd.

“We were only able to see the scores pop up,” Ana said. “All these people, they know Amber, but they don’t know much about the sport. So I was trying to explain all of it as it was going on. ‘She hit a target!’ and everybody cheered. ‘The Russian missed a target!’ and everybody cheered.

“It was hilarious. It was lively. It was extremely fun. Needless to say, it was not as good as being there.”

It is the world in which we live, and these are the Games that are being held. The golds will be given, but they won’t be followed by a rush to the stands, by a sobbing hug with Mom and Dad. Rather, at the Tokyo Games, the lucky athletes will be handed a phone — and on the other end will be the people who matter, on the other side of the globe.

That’s what happened Monday afternoon on a shooting range in Tokyo. Amber English heard her mother from 6,700 miles away.

“You did it!” Ana screamed. “You did it!”

“No,” Amber responded. “We did it.”

The families might not be at the Olympics. But the Olympics, even at the Tokyo Games, remain a family pursuit.