This is the Japanese short-track speed skating team. They're almost as excited about the Olympics as I am.
I love the Olympics.
I love the heartwarming human-interest stories, love the preposterous commentary, love the part in the opening ceremonies where you think, "Boy, that Russian biathlete is very excited about waving." Love the fact that the number of people in the United States who are aware of curling is abruptly and briefly multiplied by a factor of 50, love the part in any alpine skiing event where it's all you can do not to yell "Eeeeeeeee!" at the television as hurtling becomes intense hurtling. Love the intimacy of the two-man luge. Love the fact that there's always somebody trying to make figure skating edgy.
And this Friday in Vancouver, it all starts again. These are, of course, the smaller-scale Winter Olympics, which don't contain nearly as many events as the Summer Olympics. You've got your Accelerate Gravity Using Snow/Ice sports (skiing, luge, bobsled, snowboarding and so forth), your Do Things On Skates sports, your Flat Skiing sports (cross-country skiing, the ski/shoot biathlon, which I still do not understand but nevertheless think is wonderful, like an Olympic sport based on a James Bond movie), and ... that's about it. If you're not sliding, skating, or plodding around on skis, you're probably not in the Winter Olympics.
During the Olympics, I give myself permission to root for whichever athlete strikes me as most fleetingly appealing for whatever completely shallow reason — best facial hair! Adorable child in the stands! From somewhere I once lived! From a country whose anthem I am eager to hear! My loyalties at the Olympics are transitory and utterly meaningless, which is why the Olympics never make me angry, like professional football or college basketball.
So let me ask you: Olympic Fever, yes or no?
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