If there are two words that, over the centuries, have become virtually synonymous with the phrase “Olympic Games,” those words are “beach volleyball.”
This exciting sport got its start in ancient Greece, when some ancient Greeks found an inflated goat bladder on a beach and got the idea of hitting it across a net. Fortunately, they realized that this would be disgusting, so they used a volleyball instead, which is why today the sport is called “beach volleyball” instead of “beach goat bladder.” (Although beach goat bladder has been accepted as an Olympic sport for the 2008 Games, along with ballroom dancing, lawn darts, bathroom remodeling and Go Fish.)
The beach volleyball competition for this Olympics is being held in a spanking-new stadium next to the water. Everywhere you look in Athens, you see freshly spanked Olympic facilities, and a lot of them are largely empty.
Apparently a lot of people decided not to come to these Games, probably because we in the news media wrote all those scary preview stories saying that the only real question was whether the Greeks would finish the Olympic facilities in time for the terrorists to blow them up.
If you’re sitting home, feeling bored, I urge you to get up right now and come to the Olympics. There are tickets available, the weather is perfect, the Greeks are wonderful and it’s perfectly safe, as long as you stay out of taxis.
I know it’s safe, because when I entered the beach volleyball facility, the guard at the security checkpoint confiscated a pair of manicure scissors he found in the backpack of an Austrian journalist. The journalist protested, pointing out that he’d taken the scissors to many Olympic events, and noting that they had little teeny blades.
But the guard refused to give them up. You can’t be too careful. You don’t want to wake up one morning and read a chilling story like this:
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“ATHENS–An Austrian terrorist-journalist, armed with manicure scissors, hijacked the Olympic beach volleyball stadium Wednesday and threatened that, unless the Greek government surrenders, he will puncture the ball.”
But really, the beach volleyball competition was non-violent and festive. The stadium was only about a quarter full, but the crowd was enthusiastic, especially for the “dance team,” consisting of a dozen very fit young women in very tight orange bikinis engaging in spirited Olympic movements.
Between matches, an announcer with a DJ-type voice went onto the court and worked the crowd (at one point he said–I swear–“Anybody here from Europe?”). The highlight was when the announcer broke the crowd into three groups and had them sing a traditional American song, as follows:
First group: That’s the way!
Second group: Uh-huh, uh-huh!
Third group: I like it!
It was a true Olympic moment–people from many nations joining together in the spirit of friendship, of understanding, of K.C. and–above all–of the Sunshine Band. You really should get over here.