Ever since the maudlin meandering of NBC and the diminutive big headed Bob Costas took over Olympic coverage, who knows how many years ago now, I haven't been exactly glued to my seat watching. If you tune in at eight you get twenty five minutes of the American wunder story of the day and by nine you get the event itself, which if Googled, one knows or finds the results immediately before the superficial drama that helps sell the Venus Breeze.
While I kind of felt bad for Marion Jones when she was shackled by the self righteous State for simply lying to it, the whole gotta win attitude coupled with the worship my wholesomeness didn't have my tears caught rolling down a cheek. So when the two young men from Latvia beat the self-assured and spoiled American stars of "beach volleyball" that I happened to actually catch today, I found myself taunting my overly inoculated six year old patriot-USA(!) with chants of 'Latvia ! Latvia !
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