la dolce vita
Summing Up Day 9
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No one is here.
Fans aren't here. Italians aren't here. Some of the athletes -- particularly the American ones -- aren't really here, either.
Only the media are here. And believe me, NBC didn't pay $1 billion to put us on TV for 17 days. ESPN8 ("The Ocho") wouldn't touch that programming with a 10-foot pole.
Yet organizers here hold a news conference every morning that gives new meaning to the word spin.
Problems? What problems? Cesare Vaciago, the chief executive director of the organizing committee, said yesterday that ticket sales have exceeded expectations. The Games are under budget. There are no empty seats. Well, if there are, they are caused by no-shows and will be filled by schoolchildren, the elderly and "American Idol" castoffs. Eva Longoria is in love with him. A biathlete missed a target during competition yesterday, fired into the ground, and hit oil, black gold, Texas tea. Yada yada yada.
Then they send out a news release saying they've come up with 8,000 "extra tickets" for the cross-country event on the final day of the Games (that's Sept. 13, for those marking off your calendars at home).
They have suddenly found room in the Alps for 8,000 extra people? (Not to mention Port-a-Johns and parking for 8,000, which they currently do not have in all of Turin.) What, did they annex part of France last night, too late to make the final edition of La Stampa? (Let's face it, how hard could it be? Both sides of the border are known for cheese and ennui. There is a chance the French might not even notice.)
It's hard to admit when you've devoted months of planning, left your kitties and your five VCRs and your beloved chair and flown over water -- water! it's not natural! Mr. Tony is right! -- only to find there is no buzz at the Games. But I've seen Games, and these are buzz-less.
Or perhaps the buzz is just not the good kind. Bode skis off the course. Apolo can't get his gold. The bobsled fellows are in sixth with a lot of ground to make up. The U.S. men's hockey team loses.
Even when there's good news, there's bad news. The speedskaters go 1-2, but accompanied by hissies, snits and snarks that would put a gaggle of junior high girls to shame. What is wrong with these guys? Chad hates Shani. Shani hates Chad. Chad likes Joey. Joey likes everyone.
Meow!
The only thing separating them from figure skaters is the costumes. There isn't enough sequins and tulle in all of Turin to cover those man-thighs.
