It’s wonderfully ironic that less than 200 years ago the British were sending people to Sydney as a punishment. Now millions from all over the world have descended on the city for a little sporting convention called the Olympics. According to tourism officials here, before the games, Australia was named the No. 1 travel destination of 25 percent of Americans. After the games, that number is expected to be 75 percent. Obviously, all of you back in Iowa are missing something. Hard to believe isn’t it? Used to the lavish attention that the Iowa Cubs and RAGBRAI receive, I suppose it is somewhat humbling to find the attention of the world’s sports fans elsewhere. But, take it from me, these Olympics are an event at least on par with the Iowa/Iowa State game. Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either, but now, having the opportunity to be here for the games, I’ve caught Olympic fever. In the interest of making you all jealous, here are the top, oh, let’s say five things that being in Sydney for the Olympics has over Ames. 5. Watching other nations’ fans. The United States may lead in the medal count, but if there were awards for team support, I suspect we’d be in the bottom of the heap. Chalk this up to the fact that American athletes are numerous, well-funded, frequently cocky, and always win anyway. Sure, I root for my countrymen and women regardless, but with somewhat less enthusiasm than my Dutch roommate, for example, who cheers with the kind of crazed fervidity that can only be bred by years of jingoistic European soccer culture. The Australians have also shined as spectators, which is good because, naturally, they are everywhere. The chants of Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi get old pretty quickly, but the extent of what this Olympics means to Australia is readily apparent, and their pride comes through in an infectious way. However, the best fans always support the underdogs. Imagine the fun in cheering for Laos, which has come in last or second to last in every event it has ever participated in. It’s hard to be cynical about the Olympics when coming third to last can make a person a national hero. 4. Better television coverage. Besides not being on a fifteen hour delay, in Australia they have a wonderful propensity to avoid those story behind the athlete segments that precede basically all Olympic events on United States television. You know, those cheesy human interest pieces that tell you how the athlete about to compete in the javelin throw has overcome a club foot, several manifestations of cancer, a steady flow of dying relatives, and was so poor growing up that he practiced by chucking his crutch around the living room. Instead, Australian television airs – and here’s the brilliant part – more sports coverage. 3. Fatso the Fat-arsed Wombat. Fatso is the alternative to the official Sydney 2000 mascots, Syd the Echidna, Ollie the Kookaburra, and Millie the Platypus. He’s the marsupial that’s got back, and so much more. To capture Fatso’s essence in words would be impossible, but trust me; you’re missing out. 2. Exposure to all the events. Being here I’ve had a chance to see all those little-known Olympic sports that seldom see the light of day in the United States. You wouldn’t believe some of the gleefully random stuff that qualifies as an Olympic sport these days. Synchronized diving and trampolining are two particularly bizarre examples. Most of these small time sports are a lot more interesting than the more popular stuff that makes prime time. I went to pingpong this week, and it was absolute magic. Take the most amazing thing you can imagine two people doing with a couple wooden paddles and a little plastic ball, multiply that by 10 and you have Olympic table tennis. I’m also a big fan of heavyweight judo. If you think that watching two giants in bathrobes desperately engaged in a tripping contest couldn’t possibly be as much fun as it sounds, think again. Not all the little-known sports are worthwhile, though. Consider yourself lucky if you never find out what dressage is. 1. And finally, there is the excitement, the atmosphere, the anticipation, the celebration, the beauty and the shear joy of knowing that you are at a point in space and time where humanity has chosen to come together at its best. You don’t get to experience all that too often, even in Iowa.