Did the Summer Olypics start already?

I'm not a sore loser.

So what if Australia's swimmers kicked America's ass in the 800-meter relay, even though three Austinites were on the team and my home town could have had a moment of glory, but nooooooo, that wasn't going to happen on the Aussies' home court was it, and has anyone checked those fuckers in Sydney for steroids yet?

Yeah. I'm not a sore loser.

Pretty much every Austin athlete has lost in the Olympics so far, but I don't care. It's not like these games are going to count anyway. Why? Because you can't hold the summer Olympics during winter and it's winter in Australia. That's a do-over.

Truth is, I hadn't given the Olympics much thought until news of American losses came over the metaphorical transom of my computer. Sure, some Americans won their events. But only athletes with ridiculous names, like Misty Hyman. For the most part, things look bleak for Team USA.

Even our dykes are losing, for crissakes. The women's softball team tanked against China in one game, then tanked against Japan in the next. C'mon, girls, get your heads into the game. Is everyone on the softball squad glued to alt.binaries.erotica.asian-girls?

Oh, well. If you can't beat them, rip them to shreds. It's not like it's all that hard to do.

For example: the first American to win Olympic gold earned her heavy metal in a fierce shootout in the air rifle competition. Air rifle competition? Fuck me, if they keep adding events like air rifle, even I might compete in the Olympics one day.

Announcer: And this just in... despite a strong field featuring Aussie favorites Cameron Koo and Peter West, Texan Mike Jasper won the first gold medal of the 2008 summer Olympics in the drunken beer-loaded squirt gun competition. After the match, Jasper said, "I knew I was going to win the gold when I nailed the fucker in the fly."

Still, air rifle seems like a glamour sport compared to the ultimate Olympic dork sport: wrestling. Now there's a group of boys who have made some poor life decisions. Granted, not everyone has what it takes to become an Olympic wrestler. Nature doles out her talents gingerly, and only a precious few possess the god-given qualities necessary to rise to the top of international wrestling, such as:

1) A willingness to dedicate years of your life to intense physical training.
2) No sense of social dignity whatsoever.

Wrestlers are the ultimate amateur athletes, and you can bet not one of those boys is ever going to win a hefty endorsement. Even if he wins every match by a buttfuck.

Sure, once in awhile an eccentric millionaire -- say an heir to the Dupont fortune -- might throw some money at a wrestler. But eventually even this deluded trust-funder will come to his senses. And when he does? He'll blow the fuckin' wrestler away.

Women's gymnastics? I can't watch that either. Even the interviews make me cringe. They all sound like they spent the day sucking helium. Besides, watching women's gymnastics makes me feel like a pervert or a pedophile, and I'm not prepared to shoulder that guilt. Men's gymnastics? Same guilt. But worse.

In a rare display of puckishness, the Olympic Committee added women weight lifters to the games this year. Have you seen that 16-year-old American female weight lifter? Now there's an endorsement waiting to happen. What's her name? Helga? That'll do. I can honestly say I don't feel any guilt watching Helga perform. Fear and disgust, but no guilt. How would you like to see her mug on a Wheaties box in the morning? I can already hear the commercials.

"It's Helga! Olympic champion and professional slump buster!"

Nastiness.

I know. I shouldn't pick on somebody's size, especially since I'm struggling to lose ten pounds myself. But I was never a big fan of male weight lifters either. If I want to see fat guys lifting heavy objects, I'll go down to the Horseshoe Lounge during keg change.

There are probably another 119 events I could rag on, but I'd prefer to rag on America's TV coverage instead. The other night, I clicked on NBC to get an Olympic update and found a feature about some dead Australian gentleman who helped John F. Kennedy (a dead American gentleman) return to civilization after the latter crashed PT 109 in the Pacific Ocean during WWII (I tell you -- don't get into a vehicle with a Kennedy). It was a nice history lesson, but what's this got to do with Olympic coverage?

According to Bob Costas -- who sends me secret messages with his eyebrows to let me know John Tesh sucks -- the "Save JFK" story was meant to show the great lengths NBC will go to kiss the host country's ass. NBC also wants to emphasize the great relationship the United States and Australia have enjoyed since WWII.

Who knew? The United States gets along with Australia? An English-speaking country teeming with white people? What are the odds?

For my money, the best Olympic coverage happens during the day on CNN-Sports Illustrated. Apparently, CNN-SI executives don't have access to Olympic video highlights, although I haven't ruled out the possibility that they just don't feel like running them. Instead, they show still photos of Olympic athletes and let the talking heads connect the dots. It reminds me of Saturday Night Live's "Weekend Update," but if you play Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon" during the broadcast you can get stoned if you roll a fat one.

I got so fucked up during yesterday's broadcast, I could have sworn I saw a black man swimming.

There's one other thing I've noticed about CNN-SI. To ensure that only authentic coverage of the Sydney Olympics radiates from your TV screen, CNN-SI honchos have hired every reporter with an Australian accent this side of Singapore. Thing is, I don't remember them doing the same during the winter Olympics.

"Ahhhhhhhh, I ruv the snowbowding. It locks."

Sadly, the summer-during-winter Olympic games have been something of a letdown so far. Where in the hell are the aboriginal uprisings I was promised? Come on Australia, I need some funny material from Down Under and there's nothing quite so hilarious as a race riot. Send me something Drudge-worthy, please, instead of all this useless footage of Austinites in losing positions.

Yeah. I'm a sore loser. But I'm packing a squirt gun full of beer, so don't fuck with me.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This column aims to be funny. If you can read anything else into it, you're on your own. Copyright 2000 by Mike Jasper.