Hardly anyone actually gets to go to opening ceremonies. The tickets cost a bajillion RMB which is roughly equal to a gazillion US dollars. As an olympic infant, I sought out the wisdon of my broadcasting vets to learn how best to enjoy the games. Top to bottom they all agreed. For boozers and teetotalers alike, the Heineken House was THE place to go. I rounded up a band of eight merry Americans and we set out to cheer for our country as the walked the National Stadium....we would do this amidst hundreds of Scandinavians [sidenote: I'm 6'4" and 230 lbs. From my visual observation of the people at the Heineken House, I am the exact national average for women of the Netherlands. You can imagine how gigantic the men are]
We should have known. So obviously American, we were asked at the front gate, "Why aren't you at the Budweiser House?" I would hear the question about five more times. I didn't even know there was a Budweiser House. Whatever. We had a great time and the people seemed to love Americans. The spirit of olympic unity was in full swing.
Until the USA was announced.
We had been watching the people of other countries singing their songs and cheering wildly as their countries were announced. It looked like great fun. When the USA team emerged from the tunnel I hoisted up a man who was wearing a Lebron James olympic jersey (LJ). I had only met him five minutes before, but he was all for it. Our tiny group endured scattered boos and one thrown beer that barely missed LJ as we chanted USA with unbridled patriotism. When I let LJ down, the Dutch people around us gave us a big laugh and some slaps on the backs, raving about our bravery.
Then George W. Bush appeared on the big screen. The boos for Bush were actually louder than the cheers for the Netherlands. It was awesome, not because I dislike the President. I'm a Bush advocate. But I've never felt hatred in such huge numbers. The emotional power was overwhelming. Then the camera changed, the people forgot, and the previoulsy felt aura of olympic unity was restored. Still I didn't want to risk it. The beer was flowing and LJ was like a walking bullseye. I grabbed my crew and we subwayed back to the Village in time for the torch lighting.
All in all, a great night. We were hated because we announced our love. We marveled at an illogical amount of disdain for one man. And we were awed by an incredible ceremony.
Highlight: Hearing "Old Langs Aye" sang in Dutch
Lowlight: Not seeing Jackie Chan light the torch as we'd eagerly anticipated.