The Festo - Olympic Couch Potato

Today is the third day of these 2008 Beijing Olympics. Needless to say, I've been glued to the screen watching many of the diverse events, not excluding badminton, gymnastics, rowing, and handball. After a breathtaking opening ceremony, filled with a dazzling light display, an otherworldly soundtrack, and quite frankly, the most artistic overall performance I have ever seen with these two brown eyes, the Olympics have shot out of the gate running, sprinting rather, and I, for one, am teeming at the lips for much, much more.

The problem here is that over these last three days, I have grown into a bum, a couch potato. There are no other words for it. There is no excuse, no point for my sheer bumdom...aside from the twenty-ninth Olympiad, that is. These last three days have seen Manny Francis abed or acouch all day long, flipping through the multiple channels that NBC has offered with coverage of boxing, swimming, or weightlifting, only to get up at a rare commercial to fix myself a ham and cheese sandwich on toasted white bread with a dab of light mayonnaise or to snag a granola bar for a quick exit of the kitchen and a hasty return to my warm seat in front of the television. Sure, some may say my slight obsession with the quadrennial games is a bit too wild. Some would say that medication could be the answer. And then, some, myself included, would call an ace an ace. We'd tell you that the Olympics have created a bum.

I can only imagine the thousands of people like me in the world, our own fraternity of Dorito-eating, ottoman-worshipping Olympic fanatics, ready to pop the tube on at any time of day for hours upon hours of fun. I guess we could sue for our troubles, couldn't we? "Your honor, we bring forth this case against the International Olympic Committee and the thousands of athletes that took part in the games. They've made couch potatoes of us. We've lost jobs, friends, and self-respect. We all currently have bed sores. Now, tell them to give us money." What a case it would be.

But all kidding aside, maybe bum is to strong a word. Sports nut would suffice. I promise. I've been watching nothing but baseball (the Red Sox usual mid-season woes have trickled into the latter stages of the season) and Brett Favre coverage (JUST RETIRE ALREADY!) for the last three months. So, give me a break. The myriad of Olympic events are a breath of fresh air. Even the casual fan is intrigued by synchronized diving or water polo. We never see these sports, and they're nothing short of addictive once we start watching them. Who can really blame us?

That being said, I'll take the first step and admit my problem. I'm infatuated with the games, and because of this (coupled with my odd body clock), I am quite bothered by a couple of the aspects of the coverage. Beijing operates on a clock that is twelve hours ahead of the east coast of the United States. Over there, athletes compete in events from 8 a.m. to 11 p.m, give or take, which means that the broadcasts must start at 8 p.m. and end at 11 a.m over here. Follow? Now, that coverage is entirely cool with me. It's not uncommon for me to stay up until the sun rises anyway. With that said, I figured I'd be watching live events all night long, for 12 hours straight. Makes sense, right? Wrong. The live coverage begins at 7:30 p.m. or so and ends around midnight, and I wish someone could tell me why. Maybe it's money. Gotta make that paper cheddar. Maybe they won't get the ratings they desire if they broadcast live during my hours. Frankly, I don't care what it is. This particular fan can't get enough of the Olympics, and by god, if I'm up during the hours when competitions are being held, I want to see them as they happen. I don't want Bob Costas to give me the rundown of what we all missed during his primetime slot. And for this, I'm terribly vexed. I could care less what events they throw on during the wee hours just so long as they're live. I'd watch twelve hours straight, midnight to noon, and wouldn't lose a beat. Believe me. And I just know there are many more like me out there. So, let's rise up and write mass amounts of hate mail, people. Let's wake the neighbors and go streaking in the name of more live coverage. Let's start the petition now, so this doesn't happen to us four years from now. If I have to wait another four years for these precious events only to get the royal shaft with the live coverage again, I swear to the highest heavens......I'll just settle for whatever coverage they give me. And still love it. HAHA.

Written Monday, August 11, 2008 at 3:50 in the A.M.