The Winter Olympics are upon us. For the next few weeks we have the opportunity to watch athletes compete in events they have spent the better part of their lives striving to achieve perfection in.

Some will come away with a medal and all the accolades that accompany it; two minutes on Letterman, a heart-to-heart with Bob Costas, a book deal, or possibly a commercial pedaling shampoo or lip balm.

The majority won’t come away with anything around their neck except a rash from their snug fitting uniform. They will quietly go home to accept a hug from Grandma and a consolatory pat on the back from everyone and their dog. Not that those things are bad, it’s just not what motivates an 18-year-old to forgo fun for 16 years of rigorous training.

Having Bob Costas paint a heart wrenching picture of all the adversity and heart ache you had to overcome on your journey to win an Olympic medal probably wasn’t a motivating factor during the years of training either, but like lip balm it comes with the territory.

Even if you never had to overcome adversity and heartache Bob will find something…You’ll sit down next to Bob, shiny medal hanging around your neck, the fake fire dancing behind you, and Bob will say, “Despite failing a spelling test in the third grade, a devastating set back, you were able to persevere and win the gold medal in ski jumping…remarkable story and truly a testament to what the human spirit can overcome.”

I enjoy watching the Olympics, but I’ll admit, it lacks the emotion it had back in the Cold War days when the Soviet Union was the evil Olympic athlete empire.

Every few years the Iron Curtain would slide open to turn its genetically enhanced super athletes loose to collect Olympic medals. It had better be gold or you would find yourself scrubbing toilets in the Kremlin. When I was a kid it was almost as enjoyable rooting against the Russians as it was rooting for the United States.

Nowadays we don’t really have a country playing the part of the Big Bad Olympic Wolf. I find myself feeling bad for the athletes from the former Soviet Union for all the hardships in their country and hope a few of them take home medals. The Russians are too tough to use lip balm so I’m not sure what benefits would befall the athlete on their return to their country. Maybe a vodka endorsement spot, “A gold medal makes the perfect coaster for my glass of Smirnoff.”

If only Afghanistan would put together a Taliban bobsled team. Ratings would skyrocket and we would get to see Bob Costas nervously chit chatting with them about the rocky road from Kabul to Canada.

Enjoy the Olympics and sappy Costas stories.

I also wanted to inform all of you that due to issues with lack of snow at some of the Olympic venues I’m proposing that Burke County puts in a bid for the 2014 games.

Does anyone know how to drive a Zamboni?