Oh… ‘Lympics.
I seem to remember the Olympics being a big thing once. Everyone would talk about them, look forward to them, know when they would start and end, get excited, make time to watch them and know the names of the figure skaters. (Remember that whole Tonya Harding/Nancy Kerrigan thing? Back when the Olympics were big?)
This time I didn’t even know they were on. It might be just me and my general apathy regarding sports, but it seems like Olympic fever has died down in my lifetime.
Last night I was at a birthday party and the TV was on, and it was only after watching about an hour of figure skating and dudes stacked up on sleds (whose idea was that?) that I thought, “Hey, that’s the Olympic logo—ooooh.”
Maybe I would’ve caught on faster if I hadn’t missed the thing with the flame—or if I hadn’t already started on the cheap champagne.
Anyway, the Olympics seem to have lost their spark. (Get it?) Maybe it’s time to spice them up a bit.
I’ve got it. We’ll pack all the Olympians in houses together and keep cameras on them at all times, and find out what happens when world-class athletes stop being polite and start getting real. That’ll draw some interest.
