The map is in the backpack. Cab money is in the pocket. And the notebook has a list of the sports going off Wednesday, one after another, from morning until night.
It’s so easy for you to sit at home, remote control in hand, and flip through the sports. Softball on MSNBC. Basketball on USA Network. Gymnastics on NBC.
It’s deceiving. The Olympics aren’t that easy.
So here we are on their busiest day. With 26 sports taking place in every corner of Athens, this is the best opportunity to see how difficult these Games are to navigate, to determine how many sporting events can be seen in a single day.
I’m up for the challenge. I have a list of 15 events I need to see before midnight. The Olympics are a time when the world wants to see records broken.
I dig myself into an immediate hole by watching an entire women’s volleyball match. The U.S. team and the Dominican Republic begin play at 9 a.m., and it goes five nerve-wracking games before the Dominicans upset the U.S.
To me it means I’m immediately an hour behind schedule.
I can’t afford to watch events in their entirety. It’s as though I were sitting at home on the couch. I’ll watch something for as long as I can and then switch channels.
Going from indoor volleyball to the beach version offers a good juxtaposition.
With a stadium built right against the Mediterranean Sea, the scenery is nice. And that’s before you look up. Beach volleyball is the only sport that features cheerleaders, bikini-clad women imported from the Canary Islands. It doesn’t look like a sporting event. It’s more like a pre-shift pep rally at Hooters.
I arrive just in time to see the Portuguese men finish off South Africa in the second game.
I hop on my fifth shuttle of the day and head over to the next stop, the Sports Pavilion, where security guards slide mirrors under the bus to check for explosives.I’m the only American in the building. The sport is team handball–Slovenia vs. Iceland–and I luck out. There are only two minutes remaining in the first period.
I walk out and know I don’t have time to take the shuttle. It’s already noon and I’ve seen only three sports. My expectations might have been a bit high.
I walk three blocks to hail a cab.
“To Helliniko Olympic Complex,” I say. “Quickly.”
But the driver and I have a different idea of haste.
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“Do you think we could please go a bit faster?” I ask.
He looks at me and seems confused.
“I’m kind of in a hurry,” I say. “I’m trying to watch as many Olympic sports today as I can.”
Right when I decide he speaks no English, he finally talks.
“Why do you want to do this?”
I don’t really have an answer. Personal quest? Pursuit of fine journalism? Because I can?
I board another shuttle to the Canoe and Kayak Slalom for a five-minute visit.
Helliniko Olympic Complex is made up of six venues, none too far from the next. After getting off another shuttle, I race-walk across a 300-yard-long concourse and jog up the steps of the fencing hall, where . . .
“It ended 20 minutes ago,” a young woman says. “You missed it.”
It’s just as well, I figure. After all, it’s not like fencing is really a sport. But this is wasted time.
The afternoon sun is now pounding down, there are only four checkmarks in my notebook. I haven’t allotted nearly enough time to travel between venues.
I walk into the softball stadium and into a 0-0 tie. Even better: Neither team has a hit, and we’re already in the sixth inning. This is the best way to watch a no-hitter–starting at the end. But in the bottom of the sixth, a Chinese player singles to left and in the top of the seventh an Australian hits a double to the wall.
As I leave I hear noise coming from the baseball stadium. It’s not on my schedule, but it’s past 1:30 p.m. and I need baseball desperately right now.
After a slow inning and two more shuttle rides I’m at the Main Press Center, the central bus hub for reporters. I have only six checkmarks in my notebook.
At Galatsi Olympic Hall I’m officially in dire straits.
“Ten minutes,” I say, asking my cabbie to wait. I’m back outside in 12 with checkmark No. 7–table tennis–in my book.
My happy cabbie takes me to see some boxing.
I sit through two bouts and then it’s another shuttle. The day is moving so fast.
I’ve been to eight events, but it’s already 4:30 p.m. and I have seven sports to go. After a quick stop at the Olympic Aquatic Center for Russia-Hungary water polo, I hop three different shuttles and head to stop No. 10, Panathinaiko Stadium for archery.
The next few hours are a blur of shuttles and speed-walking and snippets of sporting events.
There’s swimming at 7:30 p.m.
Tennis at 8:15 p.m.
Gymnastics at 8:45 p.m.
Soon I find myself in the stands of the Olympic Indoor Arena watching women’s basketball, not thrilled by what Spain and New Zealand are doing on the court.
Now it’s 10:15 p.m. I’m not certain I can make it over to the Goudi Olympic Hall in time for the late badminton match, but I have to try. The spring in my step has turned into a blister.
I arrive in time to see the Korean doubles team score its final four points to defeat the Netherlands.
It’s over.
Fourteen hours. Twenty-one shuttles and four taxi rides. I’ve walked more than four miles. I’ve been through more than a dozen metal detectors and watched two dozen countries compete. And the most important statistic: 15 Olympic sports in one day.
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I take out the schedule for the next day, but I don’t open it.
Maybe in 2008.