Where is Torino?

I love the Winter Olympics, coming Friday to a television near you.

Let me clarify that I've never participated in winter sports in my life. My nature is that of a spectator as opposed to a participant anyway, and the idea of strapping sticks to my feet and hurtling down a mountain, or skating around chasing a puck and getting body checked makes me shudder, but still, I LOVE the Winter Olympics.

First of all, its smaller than the bloated summer games. Its more manageable, it can be held in smaller cities--Albertville, Torino, Lake Freakin' Placid, and the sports are just tremendous.

I'll never ski down a mountain at 90 mph, but I love watching other guys do it. Biathalon. Skiing and shooting--its WWI! How cool is that? Bobsled! Luge! Ski Jumping!

I love the obscurity of the sports, but more than anything, I love the elemental and essentially random nature of the competition. Snow starts coming down, the courses get chewed up by other racers, the wind blows, whatever, and yet they still measure times to the hundreth of a second. I appreciate the sports where luck, or fate, or random chance, play a major role.

Among other things, that requires a certain amount of acceptance of fate by the athletes; a somewhat unusual mix of the usual arrogance of the high level athlete with a willingness to recognize that, in large measure, the results are out of their hands.