August 28, 2004 | 1:30 p.m. ET

To all of you who shared these Olympics with me: what a great time we've had.

I was taken by those of you who took the time and sent in e-mails to say, as Anita from Ducan, Okla., wrote: "I have really enjoyed your 'Blogging from Athens' and hate to see it end — hate to see the Olympics end, although my sleep deprivation is beginning to show!" 

If you've watched my reports on the air, perhaps you've noticed the sleep deprivation on my face, too.

Athens not only put on one heck of a show, but this city lives on an unusual clock: eat dinner at 11 p.m., stay out till 3 a.m., and then get up the next morning and do it all over again. Thank goodness for a few siestas, but when you're working, they're few and far between.

Melody wrote: "It was cool to hear about all the things that were happening in the back ground."

That of course was my attempt with the Blog. The idea was to take you to the places you wouldn't otherwise get to. The Sports Illustrated party has become a legend already (as you know, the Greeks love legends, and myths).

Elanor wrote: "One of the reasons I've enjoyed your blog so much is that the entries were always short and sweet."

That may have as much to do with the frustrations of typing on a small blackberry keypad, as my self-editing skills. Ha!

Mike in Pennsylvania wrote: "Thanks for providing us this glimpse of the Olympics in Athens. It would be a good idea if the news broadcasting industry in general widely adopted this organic form of reporting. The bland mass production of the nightly news only drives me to read more online, or watch cable."

Interesting observation. And no, as a correspondent who reports routinely on NBC Nightly News with Tom Brokaw, I'm not offended by your comments. I will take heed that you are not alone in those desires and I will see if I can mix them into my broadcast reports.

As we say in TV: "stay tuned."

Lots of you wrote saying I made a good choice to head after the games to Santorini with my wife. As Anthony in New York put it, Santorini has the "best sunset in the entire world!!!!. Have a great time. Kalo Taxidi!!!! ( Have a good trip)"

How can I not!

To all the Greek people who helped me, and showed me such hospitality, I say: "Sas vgazo to kapelo."

A tip my hat to you all!

Yamas (cheers!!).

August 27, 2004 | 8:31 a.m. ET

I realized today the Games are almost over and I am sad.

Last night the Today Show staff had a bash to celebrate all the work (and of course the fun) we've had here in Athens. 

Our party producers, Evan Klupt and Jen Gotti, created a perfect theme: Greek food and Asian food; the first for these games, the latter for the 2008 Beijing Games.

After long hours working together, the party was a fab way to laugh at the moments we've gone through these past few weeks. Sorry, but to borrow a phrase: what happens in Athens, stays in Athens.

Producer Minah Kathuria is glad for that one (but boy can she dance!)

Someone else has that rhythm coursing through her veins but no names here. Can you guess? She's a regular in the morning. 'Nuff said!

As for producer Bita Nikravesh: she's bleary-eyed with excitement after the U.S. women's soccer team's victory.  She was there. "Bored" was not in her vocabulary.

We still have some big events to cover, like the men's marathon, but we can feel the end is near. Some NBC News folks will leave even before the last day of the games, but not before we share pictures.

Nightly News senior Producer M.L. Flynn has collected about 2,500 photos from the crews, producers, editors, technicians and staff.  The IT folks are figuring out a way to share them with everyone. (Too many to put on a disc.)

My most rewarding personal aspect of these games has been the opportunity to meet and share time with colleagues. While it may appear we all know each other well, and see each other every day, we are actually spread out around the globe.

Sometimes we don't see each other for two years or more. Some of us will leave for Baghdad (my prayers of safety are with producers Paul Nassar, Gene Choo and correspondent Richard Engel). Others will go to assignments in New York (Republican National Convention), California or other spots in the United States and around the world.

I'm headed to Florida, where residents are still coping with the aftermath of Hurricane Charley. But first, a stop on the way in Santorini with my wife. It's a small island off the coast heres, it'll be a quiet, relaxing escape.

And if I suffer separation anxiety from my work buddies, I may simply have to look in any taverna (Greek restaurant). As I chat with my coworkers, it appears everyone from NBC has made plans to stop in Santorini before heading on.
 
I'd like to hear if you've enjoyed this blog. It's the first one I've ever written. Should it be my last?

It's been fun for me to do. The only problem is I still can't type well on this tiny blackberry keypad. It's a great tool, even-addictive, but also frustrating when you are used to typing quickly on a keyboard.

My e-mail is:

I'll share your feedback in my upcoming final blog.

Yamas! (That means "Cheers" in Greek.)

August 25, 2004 | 12:10 p.m. ET

I am seated in the Rhythmic Gymnastics venue. My trip to this competition is as much a pilgrimage as it is for the thrill of sports.

You see, my mother was an Olympic coach when this was an exhibition sport. She was one of the earlier pioneers. She traveled the world when about the only people involved in this sport were from the Soviet Bloc.

My mom was even in some countries that don't exist today like Czechoslovakia. Today it's the Czech Republic.

So as I sit here, watching the routines, I feel proud of the role my mother played in a sport that continues to grow in popularity.

Turn it on if you are near a television. See what they're doing? OK, go grab your old hoola-hoop in the garage and try just one of the simplest of exercises.

Not easy is it?

As my mom sits at home watching the competition, I am sure she is celebrating, but I also wonder if she's also disappointed?  Her one shot to go to the Olympics was snatched away by politics. That was the year the USSR invaded Afghanistan. President Jimmy Carter mixed politics and sports, and that left my mother, along with so many others with dashed dreams.

Well mom, I am here. What might have been is the graceful, athletic competition among girls on a world stage that is captivating the crowd here.

While the Olympians here weren’t even born when you were pushing this as a sport, take a bow for how it all turned out.

Oh, and of course: Go USA.

August 25, 2004 | 9:30 a.m. ET

I watched as the woman runners collapsed along the marathon route. I gaped at the statistic: 20 percent of the world-class Olympic runners didn't even finish. And of course I've lived in this oppressive heat for three-plus weeks now.

So, what of the men who will run in the finale. The last event of the game: the men's marathon.

It's a race of three H's: Heat, humidity and hills.

• At surface level, the heat, where the feet pound the pavement, is in excess of 105 degrees.
• The humidity is always at least 40 percent or higher.
• And then there are the hills.

Dr. David Martin from Georgia State University has studied this route. He's here advising the U.S. marathoners. His take: "It's perhaps the most difficult course ever run during any Olympics."

He says eleven miles of the race is up, up, up. It's like climbing a six-story building every mile. Then for six miles, it's down an eight-story building each mile.

I am out breath just thinking about it.

How will the man who wins this race win? By drinking, he says. Marathoners, you know the drill: Pick up a cup, drink as you run and bear down.

The problem with that is very little of the water in the cup winds up in your body. It spills. You don't really drink it all. You just think you have. Or you say you have.

Dr. Martin says if the runners here fail to take in a quart of water an hour, they'll lose. Their bodies, already close to the thermal death point above 105 degrees, need the water, or they'll shut down. British marathoner Paula Radcliffe, among others, learned that during the race last week.

The starter's gun is only a few days away. The blue line leading from the town of Marathon to the city of Athens is brightly painted for the runners to follow. The ancient route that the ancient soldier Phidippides traveled to his death is ready.

The race is perhaps a metaphor for the games.

The venues were barely completed (some still don't look as the designer envisioned). Some runners likely will not complete the race.

Ticket sales were slow at first. The race times likely will be slow on this course.

But like the crescendo of excitement that builds during these Olympics, the final two-mile stretch of the 26.2-mile course will likely be loud, thrilling, and all any sports fan could wish for during an Olympic Games.

I'm already to say as the Greeks do: Bravo!

August 25, 2004 | 2 p.m. ET

Ah, to sit at a sporting event with a hot dog in one hand, and a beer in the other.

Theoretically, you can do that at the venues of the Olympic games.

One small problem: the food on the menu is rarely available.

I am at the weightlifting venue where you can't help but be hungry as you watch these behemoths lift the weight of small cars over their heads.

The hot dogs are all gone. The spinach pies are sold out. The pizza? Gone!

This is to be expected, I guess, at a surprisingly full venue except for one thing: the competition only began thirty minutes ago.

There is still beer, unlike the softball venue that last week had a dry tap for two innings.

I was lucky enough tonight to get the last of the cheese pies.

I am eating one as NBC soundman Dennis Fry munches on the other one.

We are amongst a crowd of boisterous fans chanting, "Reza! Reza! Reza!"

Hossein Rezazadeh is a small truck of a man who is lifting with such ease, he is actually talking to the crowds and smiling as he hoists  the weights over his head.

But all I hear is, "Pizza! Pizza! Pizza!"

I guess the cheese pie didn't hit the mark.

August 25, 2004 | 7:40 a.m. ET

The Sports Illustrated party was excellent. Michael Phelps, Erik Vendt, the Thorpedo, a.k.a. Ian Thorpe, and the entire gold-medal winning U.S. softball team, were all enjoying their accomplishments and sharing the dance floor with reporters, cameramen, and producers who have been chronicling their efforts, in one way or another, for months, and even years.

While I was a guest — and this isn't very good guest behavior — I invited 12 of my new friends to the party: The "dance team" from the Canary Islands.

They showed up without tickets, but SI recognized who they were, and within minutes, the "dance team" was mobbed.  SI had to move them to a roped-off area to keep them clear of the throngs. 

Were Gold-medal winners overshadowed? Not really, but the dancers have been the Games' surprise attention getters.

For those who could not find room on the dance floor, there were table tops, bar tops, and as you might expect with the athletic energy in the club, by 5 a.m., there were members of the Aussie team jumping into the pool. No need to shed clothes, this was a party after all!

It was a chore as usual to get a taxi to my hotel. I wish the Greek Taxi Commission could tell the drivers this simple theory: They drive, we pay. After a few rounds, some demonstrative pleading, and a few taxis later, we loaded in, and headed off.

Who knew the Olympics could be like this!

August 24, 2004 | 4:19 a.m. ET

You want action pictures? Pleeeaaazzzeee — go get a copy of SI.

My gush of their work has nothing what to do with tonight's SI party and the still evolving invitation list.

I would say these things even though I am anxiously waiting to see if I have made "the list."
"The list" of invitees will be mostly athletes, agents, and the celebrated Olympic community.

I know how great the party will be. This is SI's third bash. I attended the last one, a party folks in this town are still talking about. Many who attended saw the sunrise.

So while I would never use this BLOG to further my own personal gain, I must repeat: Sports Illustrated has done the most amazing job of anyone here covering the games.

(Note to Dick Ebersol — boss of NBC Olympics — that of course does not take into account sports broadcasting!)

August 23, 2004 | 5:00 a.m. ET

It's 10 a.m. and I am already sweating.

It's not supposed to be like this. I live is South Florida, the heat and humidity capital. And yet, here I am, drenched in sweat. Temperatures swell into the upper 90's most days and the humidity is always above 40 percent. I think it got hotter this week. At least, it feels like it.

Now athletes are complaining. The top British female marathoner appears to be a victim of the heat. What to do?

For the non-athletes here — most of us observers, fans, etc. — it's time to take a cue from locals. Drink water all the time. Not soda! Not juices! Water. If you see shade, stand in it since it's 10 degrees cooler there. Sleep or relax from 1 p.m. until around 5 p.m. — the Greek version of a siesta. Unfortunately, that last one is not so easy because I have to work.

My solution: carry an extra shirt with me and change. But it's only 10 a.m. and already time to change shirts. At this rate I'll have to carry a full wardrobe.

August 22, 2004 | 5:40 p.m. ET

Georgia is a bright 24-year-old journalism student in Athens helping NBC cover developments during the Games.

She's the youngest of six. Her oldest bother is 45.

Georgia is a student at the American College of Greece. She's on full scholarship, her way paid by a Chicago Greek-American philanthropist.

Georgia is unlike most Greeks here because she's willing to admit her full heritage. She's a Turkish-Greek. Here the PC term is "Pontic." Or what they might call "Turko-Pontia."

She laughs, "The Greeks will be so mad at me for admitting this."

But she's proud to be open about this background because her grandfather was murdered by a Greek farmer.

Greeks have always lived in Turkey, even though Greece and  Turkey have long been hostile towards each other. Greeks in Greece have for centuries believed the Greeks in Turkey were more Turkish than Greek.

They didn't speak Greek, and oddly, they even believed they didn't look Greek.

Today, those prejudices remain, but some Greeks also pity the "Turko-Pontias."  Today, Georgia says sometimes she feels caught between two worlds.

When she hears a Greek say how much they hate Turks she feels offended. But when she hears a Turk say they hate Greeks she is equally offended.

Some of her best friends are Turks. And some of her best friends are Greeks.

I can't help wondering why there is so much hatred out there. The history of wars and occupations run deep.

Georgia would like Americans to understand, "It doesn't matter where you live, or where you are born. It matters how you feel."

And Georgia feels Turkish-Greek. For any multi-ethnic American, there must be a familiar ring to this.

During these Olympic Games, there is a spirit of acceptance that is alive and well. I optimistically hope it will last.

August 22, 2004 | 4:20 p.m. ET

I am sitting in a street-side Greek  bar with old friends.

"Boris" is here for work.  I won't reveal what his real name is.

Seb is a long time war cameraman.

We were all in Iraq together during the war.

Seb and I teamed up during that war. We met Boris in the desert.

It's nice to sit here, to remember the hostilities we saw together, and to realize how lucky we are to be here, together, sharing a peaceful moment.

When we last saw Boris, we were outside of Baghdad.

Boris is a little older, a little wiser. In fact we agree we are all a little different after our experiences during the war.

Seb and I were embedded with the Marines during the war.

For those who have gone into battle,  you understand the bond that is forged.

If you've not experienced it, imagine 10 years compressed into a month.

While Seb and I were there as journalists, there was still a bond, a camaraderie that was established that I suspect will survive our lifetimes.

Seb says, "It's nice to live to drink a cold beer. Especially with Boris' new and mysterious friend 'Natasha'" (also not her real name).

She's joined us, and has us all laughing with her sultry accent and interesting observations. This cloak-and-dagger stuff is somewhat amusing as we laugh around the table.

Boris says, "It is great to be with old friends, and new, in a wonderful place with an even better beer." 

Yes, while most Islamic countries do not allow alcohol, we discovered a stash in Iraq.

But that's another story.

Aug. 21, 2004 | 6 p.m. ET

I am eating at relaxed tavern overlooking Pireous harbor.

Vilka Tsoura is entertaining us with local eating customs.

"Anyone who knows how to eat a fish eats the head," she says.

But, she jokes, "Don't do this on a first date."

She's picking through the head, tearing the flesh out of the cheeks.

In Greece, this is a delicacy. Back home, it's chum.

Vilka is licking her fingers. She's digging for the brain.

She's enjoying her meal as a few Americans sit watching her eat. She's just popped out the eyeball and yes, she's eating it.

She eats only the soft part, and spits out the hard eyeball.

Yum.

OK, I think I'll skip dessert!

Aug. 21, 2004 | 5:45 p.m. ET

You may not be able to find Lithuania on the map, but there are 12 Americans who will never forget Lithuania.

NBC cameraman Greg Hoedermann says, "When the team was up by 10 points we were thinking it's the dream all over again."

But when Team USA lost in the last moments of the game, Greg says to me, "They look like a AA high school basketball team that lost the state championship."

I am not happy to see the U.S. team come in and embarrass itself and also the United States. I am glad to see a Cinderella story developing.

First it was Puerto Rico who upset the USA, now it's Lithuania.

Aug. 21, 2004 | 3:15 p.m. ET

Math and Olympic achievements.

What do you think: should an addition error cost someone the gold they deserve?

I was thrilled Paul Hamm won America's first all-around male gold.

Yipee!

But now that we know a math error stole the gold from South Korea,  I am appalled by the official decision to allow the standings to remain. 

An error is an error.

South Korea deserves what the International Gymnastics Federation says it won't order: Hamm to give up his gold.

I wonder what Hamm will do.

What do think?

Should he voluntarily give up the gold?

Aug. 21, 2004 | 9 a.m. ET

Getting around Athens has turned out to be much easier than I expected.

True, there are special buses and restricted lanes for Olympic-related business, but it's the public transportation that amazes.

I have taken the train, the subway, the street cars and the buses.

Thankfully it all runs smoothly and is clean. It turns out Athenians are highly proud of what they have, so if someone enters a subway car with food — a no-no — it doesn't require a cop to tell the offender "no food allowed." The other passengers will do it, and politely to boot!

There is one curiosity when it comes to travel: taxis.

The drivers often tool around town with a friend in the front seat, so there is less space for passengers. But the real oddity is the "back and forth negotiation."

The drivers often refuse to take you where you want to go, which has happened to me six times — and I have yet to determine why. I'm not asking to travel to odd places. We have tried to pile into a cab in traffic assuming the cabbie would not refuse us if we were already in the cab.

Wrong!

He kicked us out. A local explained that until the new public transportation system was put in, cabbies ruled. Some maintain cabbies still act with power but with trains, busses, subways and trolley cars, that power has eroded.

Yet the cabbies are still acting this way. Oh, and when you do get a cab, they have a mysterious three-dollar charge. Ask why they charge the extra money and they say "because of Olympics."

But all I hear is "because it's an easy way to boost the fare." Good thing, because there are lots of alternatives. 

Aug. 20, 2004 | 1:20 p.m. ET

The area outside the track and field venue is awash in people.

It's possible the image of empty stadiums for Olympic events could be a first-week occurrence.

I had expected to go to the competition tonight but discovered my media pass, the one with the "infinity" symbol on it is being rejected tonight. Why?

I wanted to know, so I asked.

The story: This is a high demand event so even an infinity pass holder requires a ticket.

I have to shoot a Today Show story in about an hour, so it doesn't make sense to traipse back to the ticket booth.

Oh well.

This area outside "OAKA," as it's called, is filled with fans. There is the crush of people here similar to what I saw four years ago at the Sydney games.

Maybe the story I've heard that locals were all on the islands for their traditional summer holidays was true.

If you are wondering what story I am going to shoot, then all I can say is, "Stay tuned."

Aug. 19, 2004 | 3:45 p.m. ET

Now this is Olympic fever. A sold-out beach volleyball stadium.
Music.

Loud music.

Fans dancing in the aisles.

The action down on the sand court is almost incidental to the fun atmosphere.

The dance team from the Canary Islands, which I met the other day, is dancing up a storm.
Oh, if you thought that Village People song YMCA was just for American audiences, think again.
Turns out even though the Greeks use a different alphabet, they all can do the YMCA dance.
NBC steadycam operator Joe Hoerdemann has a night off.  He says "this venue is by far the most 'rockin' spot in Greece."

Across the way, fans are waving flags: Brazil. Norway. Oh, and of course the Greek flag.
The dancers are back out. They are playing slow Greek bazuki music. A slow motion wave is going around the stadium. Crowds are clapping, the music is speeding up and so is the wave.

The dancers are watching us.
Now this is fun!

Aug. 19, 2004 | 2:50 p.m. ET

Eleni is a 20-something resident of Athens.  She's close to getting her degree in Sports Management. She is a part-time basketball referee.  She's been a gymnast for the last four years.

The perfect sports fan, right?

Wrong.

Eleni says the whole concept of the Olympics doesn't sell.  Her question: "we are a poor country. We don't have money so why are we doing this?"

She says, "no one likes politicians here, and there are a lot of people not going to events because we don't like the politicians."

Could it be possible fans are staying away because of internal politics?

I am not buying it, but it's one Greek story.

Aug. 19, 2004 | 10:10 a.m. ET

I am dining with the Greek Minister of Defense this afternoon.  He's invited about 20 international journalists to his private dining room to share thoughts on the status of security during the games. Minister Spilios Spiliotopoulos says "the money spent to protect the games was inevitable."

Over prawns glazed in a mango sauce, the minister is sharing tales of his early years as a pilot. He flew the F-104 and F-5 freedom fighter. He is telling me how he did some of his training at the now-closed Homestead Air Force Base south of Miami.

He's smiling as he remembers his time in the United States back in 1973.

With so much infrastructure built for the games, the Minister says, "we must use them under state or private management after the games. Private management, of course, is more attractive. We must try to get value out of the investment."

How much has been spent on security?

The minister, like a good politician says, "this is an interesting question."

After some back and forth with his associates he says, "the costs as of last week were $1.2 billion."

Among the built-in costs: each soldier and police officer is being given a bonus of close to $2,500 for working during the games.

Dessert has arrived: almond creme with caramel sauce. I will have to take a long walk this afternoon to walk off this meal.

Minister: wonderful hospitality. Thank you.

Aug. 18, 2004 | 8:15 a.m. ET

Twenty-year-old Haitian-American boxer Andre Berto came to Athens with the same high hopes all Olympic athletes share: that they are the best in the world.

Boxing at this level, under Olympic scoring rules, allows for no mistakes. Olympic boxing is a single-elimination sport. Those who lose their first-round bouts are gone.

Andre Berto lost his matchup against his French opponent. Walking through the Athletes Village after his loss, Berto was saying all the right things: "it's an honor to just be here," and "I made it to the Olympics; few can say they have done that."

But as we walked, each slow step was filled with disappointment. His head hung low, his voice no longer filled with the confidence of a champion.

I wonder how it is we've sold the idea of a medal as the only proof of worth. In the ancient games, winners were given free meals everywhere they went, usually for life. Interestingly, I can say with confidence that after spending many years back and forth to the Caribbean island nation, Andre Berto will get just that treatment when he goes to Haiti.

Hopefully then the "champion stride" will return, along with the voice of accomplishment and victory.

Aug. 17, 2004 | 5:45 p.m. ET

Forget the final score from today's basketball game between the United States and Greece; the results are clear: R-E-S-P-E-C-T! Greece knows how to play.

Outside the venue, NBC producer Olivia Santini says, "I have never seen that much energy at any NBA game. This was definitely worth the price of admission."

I was able to get in with media pass, but a $100 ticket was not overspending for this matchup.

Aug. 17, 2004 | 4:15 p.m. ET

Halftime just ended. It's a close game. As I waited out the break all I could figure is Team USA has realized its pride is on the line. The loss to Puerto Rico is still a fresh wound. If the U.S. team loses tonight, how can the NBA teams who claim they are "world" champs still do that without playing teams like this Greek team? By the way, in Greece, they call this country "Hellas." You'll see that if you tune in to watch the game.

Aug. 17, 2004 | 3:45 p.m. ET

I am at the United States vs. Greece basketball game. Finally the energy at an Olympic venue is high voltage. There is not an empty seat in the house. I am high in the rafters with NBC producer Gene Choo. He says, "Greeks certainly know basketball. This is just like being at an NBA game back home."

I'll give the Greeks a pass on this one, but I wish they didn't boo the United States so often. But it's a national pride thing, I guess. Not so much a feeling towards our country.

Aug. 17, 2004 | 5:00 a.m. ET

Wow! Beach volleyball was never so entertaining. But, to be honest, I am not talking about the competition, rather the between-play entertainment. Twelve women, ages 18 to 26, who are simply called "Dance Team."

We might not know much about them but for an Aussie female player who said she thought the dancers were a distraction. Fans agree, and so do I — and boy what a distraction! I'm a guy, but the female fans and players I spoke with all seemed to agree it's "good clean fun."  One athlete from Mexico, who next faces off with the Aussies next, says "the Aussies have no humor."

But my favorite quote goes to an unnamed woman: "Maybe the Aussie players are jealous."

I leave it up to you to guess who said that.

Aug. 16, 2004 | 11:30 a.m. ET

Basketball and Puerto Rico? Yes — basketball, not baseball. Puerto Rico's amateur hoops players — one of whom is 40 years old — are capturing the imaginations of fans. Team Puerto Rico shows signs of becoming the Cinderella story here. Remember the name Carlos Arroyo. The kid who was overlooked by the NBA dominated in play against Team USA. The supposed Dream Team, with a collective income of $100 million, was humbled. Allen Iverson, who plays for the 76ers, may be the most humbled.  Arroyo actually brought the all-star player to his knees at one point. U.S. fans were in awe. Greeks at the game went wild for the underdogs.

Aug. 16, 2004 | 6:30 a.m. ET

The venues are somewhat devoid of fans and that's sucking some of the energy out of the "feeling" at competitions. The most notable "emptiness" was at men's gymnastics the other day. The competition looked great on TV, but you couldn't help wondering WWhere are the fans?"

Things might change this week. Athenians have been on holiday this month, and many, I'm told, left town, fearing the crush of out-of-towners. Now that the Sunday holiday, ascension day, has passed, locals say we should see bigger crowds. Also, ticket prices to some events have been reduced to bolster attendance.

A positive sign: At 1:30 a.m. in the subway, 40 Brazilian fans began singing and dancing to a samba beat and standing nearby, some Greek teenagers watched and joined in. Olympic fever is contagious when you are with Brazilian fans! I joined in. While my attempts to dance with them certainly lacked rhythm, I thankfully didn't see anyone laughing.

Aug. 15, 2004 | 1 p.m. ET

I am at Synthagma Square, where more than 30 members of the Falun Gong movement are peacefully sitting in protest. As they sit with their legs crossed in the lotus position, seemingly meditating, a woman named Nancy Chen works the crowd in English. She's an Australian-Chinese representative of Falun Gong who says the protest is designed to call attention to the spiritual movement and alleged discrimination by the Chinese government. The next Games in 2008 will be in Beijing. An American watches silently by my side, unsure what to make of it all. By 2008 many more Americans will have heard of this movement, I suspect.

Aug. 15, 2004 | 11:40 a.m. ET

Sitting behind home plate, U.S. softball fan Elaine is on her cell phone. She's called home to chat with her daughter, Amy, in Virginia. Amy is watching the game on Bravo, and Elaine's choice to sit behind home plate has paid off. It has landed her mug on television.

Just moments ago, Team USA homered, and Amy had about a 10-second heads-up on all other viewers in the U.S., because she got the play-by-play before the TV signal arrived. 

Aug. 15, 2004 | 8:20 a.m. ET

I wanted to watch the U.S. women's softball team play Australia, but the real chore is just getting to the stadium. It took about 40 minutes of driving in circles to get to the correct gate. As nice as the Greeks are, few seem to have accurate information on where to go. 

Finally we got in, but the stadium feels empty. There are some fans here from the United States, but most are from Australia. It would seem Greeks are not interested in the 61-mph fast balls Lisa Fernandez is throwing. The few that are here are so quiet!  The concession stand has a long list of food, but there is actually little to buy. I guess someone forgot to bring the supplies.  With so few fans here I know they didn't sell out. Producer Bita Nikravesh is here with me. Maybe it's the lack of fan excitement but she text messaged me from the seat next to me. It read: "I'm bored. The good news: Team USA is winning 2-0 in the 4th inning."

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