The Olympics only come along once every four years . . .
[FACT-CHECKER: every
two years, Boss.]
Yes, right every two years. The Olympics only come along once every two years, but let me tell you, they might as well be lighting that torch inside my sinuses, because I am
FEELING THE FEVER. The five golden rings; "higher, faster, louder"; over 100 athletes from at least 50 countries competing this year
[FACT-CHECKER: um . . . never mind.]
With all that goin' on, how can you
not get caught up in Athens 2004: the Hundredth Olympic Games?
[FACT-CHECKER: . . . ]
I've got my bowl of popcorn and Honey-Baked Ham on the coffee table in front of me, and the television will be
on for the duration of the Festive Fortnight. One of the things I like most is the opportunity to watch
American (and preferably attractive American) athletes compete in familiar sports you know, the kind you see on non-Olympic television all the time. Because my view is that if you can't make an assload of money playing it, marketing it, or televising it, then it's not really a sport now, is it?
The NBC telecasts, as usual, have been nothing short of fantastic in their coverage selection. Only five days into the Games and I've been able to catch tennis, basketball, swimming, beach volleyball,
and gymnastics on prime time. But there is always room for improvement. For my part, I think they should rerun the Team USA basketball games. Is there anything more exciting than watching NBA players try to conform their game to the Olympic court, with its trapezoidal key? Screw the 200-mph shuttlecocks of championship-grade badminton there might be someone up at 4 in the morning who
didn't see the U.S.-Puerto Rico game.
The Olympics are about star power, baby.
Star power. So I could do with a little less of Bob Costas's poetry recitals and a little more of Allen Iverson talking smack. In fact, I'd like to see Iverson in the booth, composing impromptu raps about how all the foreigners suck. It could be something like
California Girls, but more globally focused:
The Italians may have trounced us last week,
But aren't our tattoos great?
And the puertoriqueños
wiped the floor with us,
But when will they become a State?
I leave the rest to you, AI. Drop a kickin' hip-hop beat behind that sass and run it in the promos in place of that dull Olympic Fanfare theme. I guarantee a ratings boost in the 11-15 age demographic.
Speaking of Italo-American relations, I don't know if any of you saw the scrum at the end of the U.S.-Italy volleyball match, but it really disappointed me. Right after Italy scored the winning point, and the Americans challenged their team to a fight, I overheard one of those awful Italian players say, "F**K YOU! WE WIN!" To me, that's stepping over the line. Of course we're going to throw a tantrum and challenge the winning team to a fight. That's the American competitive spirit at work. If we
liked to lose, we wouldn't be better as people than everyone else in the world. So put up your dukes, Mr. I-talian, and fight like a man. Or is there a reason we had to come save your country in Some War or Another back in the 1800s?
[FACT-CHECKER: . . . ]
[FACT-CHECKER: . . . ]
And then you thank us by sending your
criminals and
Communists over here to gun down our hard-working
blue-eyed citizens and stuff us full of harmful carbohydrates.
F**K ME, Mr. Pasta-Eater? F**K YOU.
Really, though there's nothing uglier and more un-American than obscenity, and I hope the IOC suspends that dago wop for saying that awful word when he
knew there were microphones around to pick it up.
But otherwise, I'm right on-board with this Olympic experience. Let's bring home some gold from Athens!