Taking the 'T'

According to early ratings, fewer Americans are tuning in to watch the Olympics in Sydney than any other Summer Games since 1968 in Mexico City

The time delay's certainly a factor.

NBC's taking a hit from viewers tuning in north of the border to watch the Games live on Canadian television.

It's losing viewers who refuse to watch the Games taped delayed after they've already heard the results on radio, television, or the web.

And the Olympic coverage itself is suffering from an excess of fluff that had one Los Angeles Times report dub it "Sports vs. Human Interest Stories During NBC's Olympics."

For an instant, however, let me provide my own alternate, completely unfounded and most likely biased take on why Americans are tuning out and turning off.

It's too happy.

That's right. There are only so many times I can stare at a picture of Marion Jones draped in an American flag, listen to someone interview Kerri Strug like she's the next Joan of Arc, or hear about another Dream Team trouncing before I want to pick up my remote and switch to "Cops" or "Survivor" to see some real life TV.

And yes--for all you know-it-all's--Strug's magic moment came four years ago in Atlanta and has little bearing on NBC's rating woes in Sydney. Still, I'm bitter and just wanted to get it off my chest.

The 1988 Olympics in Seoul suffered from some of the same logistical and timing issues that now plague Sydney, but there was something different about those Games.

With boycotts of the Olympics in Moscow and Los Angeles, it was the first time that both the United States and the Soviet Union had competed face-to-face at a Summer Games in twelve years and that was the difference.

There was still hatred.

There was something to prove.

And there was someone to beat.

It was us vs. them, and there was a battle to be won or lost.

To put it simply, it hasn't been the same since Gorbachev turned in his hammer and sickle and the laughable Yeltsin took the stage.

It's hard to despise a people who are struggling to put food on the table and equally difficult to hate a country who's relying on handouts just to stay afloat.

Maybe I'm nostalgic.

Maybe I'm just bitter.

But some of that "Olympic Spirit" has been lost since the Cold War went the way of the dinosaur.

It's great to cheer the champion.

But it's just as nice to abhor the vanquished.

They are two sides to the very same coin. To have a great champion, there must be a worthy foe.

The Olympics are missing half of the equation.

The Stars have the Avalanche. The Yankees have the Braves. The Cowboys had the 49ers. For those from the Bay Area or the Lone Star state, please note my use of the past tense.

In the Olympics, there was the short- lived Dan vs. Dave rivalry that never materialized. Yet even though it fizzled, the hype was worth the subsequent anti-climatic purge.

The Olympics needs more rivalry and less glory, more fight and less love, more pain and less joy.

Every week, college football makes a media circus out of pain and suffering and the lost dreams of youth.

It's not about who won on Saturday. The front page news is about who lost, whose national championship dreams are dashed, and whose coach has half a leg out the door.

After No. 17 Oregon downed No. 8 UCLA, 29-10, last Saturday, the story was about trash-talking Bruins' quarterback Ryan McCann.

Only a week before, McCann claimed UCLA was the No. 1 team in the country and did not who else his team could beat to prove it was the best.

Try beating someone on the road, McCann. The Bruins have lost seven straight away from home.

When Crimson quarterback Brad Wilford '00 started the 1999 season, half the drama was centered around fellow quarterback Rich Linden '00.

The tale of a freshman starter and sophomore hero who was forced to sit his senior year is a story that's worth telling.

It's also a story that probably wouldn't make it to the air on NBC.

Compared to other sports, the Olympics have the patent on losers.

For every gold medalist, there are a dozen losers waiting in the wings.

Whether they're arrogant showboats who met their match or tragic heroes downed by tough luck, it's the stories of the fallen that could make the Olympics great for NBC.

When the high-flying Maurice Greene stood crying by the track after failing to qualify for the finals in Atlanta, that was a story worth telling then--not now.

After the former fastest man in the world, Donovan Bailey, battled back from a ruptured achilles and a pulled hamstring just to compete in Sydney, isn't it just a little tragic that a case of the flu forced the 32 year-old to pull up short 50m into his quarterfinal race?

Isn't the fallen story of the 1996 gold medalist in the 100-meters worth 30 seconds of air time?

Wouldn't it be worthwhile to see the glory with the tragedy?

All too often, adversity in the Olympics is always portrayed as being overcome. On NBC, there's always a happy ending.

Maybe I'm a bitter person.

Maybe I just don't want to see Marion Jones' picture-perfect smile splashed across the front page one more time.

Or maybe I just want to see real life on the Olympic stage.

I want the good with the bad.

I want the sad stories, even when there isn't a happy ending or a next time.

I want NBC to tell the tale of the Olympics as it truly is and not as Walt Disney would want it to be.

Maybe the rest of the American public wants the rivalry, the bitterness, the tragedy, and the pain too.