la dolce vita

Summing Up Day 6

We could not be more safe here, to the great regret of some of you, we're sure. But it's true. The Shroud of Turin has less security than we do here. But then, why would anyone want to hurt a piece of fabric? A sportswriter, on the other hand . . . if The Post set up dunking tanks at 15th and L streets, we could afford to stay at the IOC hotels during these things. (Not that the accommodations here resemble Maine prisons, but several staffers have gone to the cinema museum to get Rita Hayworth posters.)

Our foremost protectors here are the Polizia, in their navy uniforms and boots, and their gloves and their belts. They are all dark, stern and ruggedly handsome. It's almost scary, the effect those uniforms have on many people -- not us -- and just as scary to realize that these guys know it. They smile these little smiles that say, "I know I am a fabulous looking Italian man in a well-cut coat and manly boots. I am a little bit in love with myself. It is only natural that you should be as well."

The Polizia are the first line of defense here at the Main Press Center, X-raying our bags and sending us through the metal detectors, and if you are molto careless and leave a coin in your pocket, they will slowly wand you. If you set off the detectors again -- say you accidentally tape a Euro to the back of your neck, for instance -- they will gently frisk you.

Then you go the ATM for more Euros.

It's a good thing our day starts six hours before yours. Seriously.

Once inside, a variety of smartly dressed guys -- and guys is correct; we have seen no women thus far -- wander about, looking delicious, er, reassuring in their very modern, hot-off-the-runway style uniforms. Most often seen are the Guardia di Finanza, who wear belted tunics of grayish teal and travel in packs of three or four at all times. Their main duty seems to be to guard the giant flat-panel TVs in the hallway during soccer matches. They also were watching the men's short program Tuesday night but they looked away and started talking about something else -- probably soccer -- when we walked by.

Then there are the car a binieri , who defy description. The first few days here, " hot car a binieri " was the most frequently used phrase overheard in line in the women's restroom. We assumed it was a pasta with red sauce. And in some ways, it is. Oh, it is.

The only bunch that doesn't give us that warm, safe feeling we crave is the Polizia Municipale, the Turin cops. Their uniforms are so "Roman Holiday." But they did find at least one female officer not too embarrassed to wear an overturned paint bucket on her head. We are reminded of Devo, and not in a fun way.

Perhaps devolution can explain what's happening to the U.S. team here. The moguls team was supposed to be the best in the world, but only Toby Dawson came to play. Luge stalwarts Mark Grimmette and Brian Martin crashed -- not that that is unusual on the luge course, but surprising for the veterans. The men's and women's speedskating teams are out of the medal chase in team pursuit, and Chad Hedrick is out of his own personal medal chase. And the downhill women came up empty.

What they need is a nice bowl of hot carabinieri . Pronto!

MARIE REINE'S DAY: Put her little dog, Bouillabaisse, in its sequined cape, made him dance for treats, then rewarded him with perfect 6.0s.

-- Tracee Hamilton

QUOTE OF THE DAY:

"There's crashes. The kind of carnage people like to watch. I know that's a horrible thing to say, but people really watch to see the crashes."

-- American Lindsey Jacobellis , on the Daytona 500 -- no, wait, the snowboard cross event