Angry in the Great White North

There are plenty of reasons not to watch the Olympics.

One reason is the lack of political punch. During the 70s and 80s, the Cold War was raging, and the Olympics were the battleground. Today, we have the war on terrorism, but unless suicide bombing becomes an event, Hezbollah and the Taliban are not likely to field teams. The Olympics seem politically irrelevant.

Or the attempts by networks to create personal drama. Those oh-so-dramatic bios of athletes and their uphill battle to Olympic gold. You know, you could actually transmit images of, well, sports in those breaks.

But then with the exclusive focus on women-friendly sports, why bother? In the Summer Olympics, lots of high-diving and gymnastics (especially the thing with that twirly ribbon), but weight-lifting? Not a chance. In the Winter Olympics -- never mind, the Winter Games were Borg-ified by figure skating ages ago. It's not even a sport. Not just because it has absolutely no objective measure of success, but because it lacks any true competition, the contests being fixed ahead of time. No wait -- they promised to clean it up after Salt Lake City. Well, if they said it's cleaned up, then it must be true.

Then there is the seediness and the corruption. The way in which third world kleptocracies have taken over the organization and turned it into a non-stop buffet for bribes and favours (everything from real estate to prostitutes) offered up by countries who inexplicably think landing the Olympics is a good thing (Canada included, I'm afraid). No wait -- they promised to clean it up after Salt Lake City. Well, if they said it's cleaned up, then it must be true.

Yet another reason is the sheer waste. Only the LA Olympics and the Salt Lake City Olympics turned a profit in recent history.

But now with the Beijing Olympics coming soon, we have all sorts of new reasons to add to the list:

Two years ahead of the opening ceremonies, Beijing tested its first Olympic venue yesterday with its usual micromanaged efficiency.

The fields were gleaming, the obedient crowds were prearranged, the hundreds of volunteers were polishing their English skills, and plenty of police were on hand in case anyone violated the strict ban on political or religious slogans.

Despite the decision by Olympic authorities to eliminate softball as an Olympic sport for the 2012 Games, Beijing went ahead with the construction of a $14-million softball complex in a southwestern suburb, including a main stadium of 13,000 seats and three smaller ball diamonds and training fields.

To make room for the softball complex, hundreds of low-income families in cheap housing were cleared away from the suburban site, and their homes were razed.

Hundreds of families cleared away for a sport that won't even be played after the Beijing Olympics. Well, maybe the locals like softball and so want a new stadium to last well after the Games are wrapped up. No. They don't even understand the game. Heck, the only reason they were there was because the government told them to be there. Losing face by having an half-empty stadium was not an option:

While the main stadium was packed with thousands of bused-in students, who had been ordered to attend, for the opening ceremony and the first game of the Chinese team yesterday, many Chinese fans admitted they were clueless about the rules of softball, even though the organizers handed out booklets explaining them. Few spectators could figure out the difference between a ball and a strike.

The fans weren't the only ones who demonstrated they were lacking in knowledge of the grand traditions of the sport. When foul balls were hacked into the stands, fans were not permitted to keep the balls as souvenirs. Instead, one of the 370 volunteers on site rushed to the spectator's seat to get the ball.

Not to mention the general cluelessness about watching a sporting event in a stadium:

But many fans complained of a litany of problems. Tickets were difficult to obtain. Seating arrangements were confused. Bans on smoking were ignored. No food, except for microwave popcorn, was available anywhere in the complex. And the spectators insisted on following the hallowed Chinese tradition of carrying umbrellas to protect themselves from the sun -- thereby blocking the view of fans behind them.

"They have all these umbrellas out, and you can't see anything," complained Mick Howren, the father of Tamra Howren, a catcher on the Canadian team.

They can have all the umbrellas they want, as far as I'm concerned. I'm not planning to watch.