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A column that isn't about the Olympics

WARNING: The following column is 100-percent Olympic-free. If you are frantically searching for a curling update or something about that alpine sniper event, try the article next door. You won't find it here.

Nor will you find anything about people flying down the hill on sleds, luges, Radio Flyers or marijuana. There will be nothing mentioned about tiny girls doing triple Froot Loops or double truck axles.This column will be right back, after 3,000 commercial messages from our official Olympic sponsors. This Olympic-free column is brought to you by . . . Mercury (Theme: Commercials you'd make if you were on drugs). Meanwhile, try to stay awake - maybe do some jumping jacks, drink some Coke, run around the yard; we'll be right back - in about three days.

Where were we? Oh, yes. Welcome back to Un-Nagano. No more Olympics. It's time to return to our regularly scheduled short program - the rest of our lives. Because you deserve a break today - from McDonald's commercials. (Where's he going? Far, far away from Nagano.)

So, not one more word about the Olympics. Not one more word about that wacko bleached blonde Russian ice dancer, Cruella DeVille. This column will not say one thing about Ilia Kulik's "outfits" (but if it did, boy, it would wonder how in the heck this guy raided Dennis Rodman's closet without him knowing it).

After all was said and spun about the Games, there is only one thing we really need to know: What will become of Bobby Templeton?

This column will not discuss SLOC or SCHLOCK (same thing) and the Great Nagano Vacation (although, admit it, isn't it comforting to know that our mayor is strong and fit enough to carry a flag? Deedee Corradini, whose only real exposure to sports occurred as a kid when her brother tattooed her forehead with LOUISVILLE SLUGGER, said she trained for almost four weeks so she could manage to carry the Olympic flag. It was either that or get some of her friends to do it for her).

This Olympic-free column is for your own good. The Surgeon General says the American public has exceeded the recommended dosage of Olympic coverage, and the drooping TV ratings would seem to support him. Many people did not watch the Olympics - and in that respect they have something in common with the ice dancing judges. (Did you hear the one about the Russian ice dancer who was arrested for reckless driving? The judge gave her a 5.9.)

Before we proceed any further, it's only fair to warn you: This column is live - yesterday. Hope you have already enjoyed it.

This column will not be pitching any "colorful" stories about Nagano and People Who Eat Sushi and Japanese men who traditionally spend their evenings with Women Other Than Their Wives. This column will not show you any post-card shots of Jim Nantz in the CBS temple (Just a question: Do you think Nantz is still sitting there, waiting for viewers to come back from a commercial break?).

This column will not mention the name of the absolute pinnacle of spectator-sport absurdity, in which athletes (using the term loosely) push a large coffee pot around the ice, while two caffeine-crazed guys with brooms frantically sweep a path for it. But this column would like to suggest that the PGA consider employing the broom guys for putting assistance. It couldn't hurt.

Sorry, this column is snowed out. It will be rescheduled for tomorrow. In its place, this column will show figure skaters practicing and figure skaters watching figure skaters practicing.

(We could have showed you this column yesterday - but we saved it for today so more people could watch it. This column is on tape delay.)

This column is a little dopey from hanging out with Canadian snowboarders. But it didn't inhale. This column is still trying to get its story straight.

This column is loaded with excuses. This column would like to say that the U.S. hockey team could give a tip or two to the Dallas Cowboys on how to trash a dormitory properly and what to say afterward. This column wants to reprint Jeremy Roenick's priceless excuse that the furniture was damaged because it was cheap - "We broke eight chairs just playing cards." And threw them out the fifth-story window along with a fire extinguisher - their idea of discarding.

This column would like to say all of that - but it won't because this column is not going to say one more word about anything Olympian.

So don't even think about reading about the Olympics here. The Olympics are finished. Outta here. Done. But don't worry. The Olympics will return in two years. Just think of the next 24 months as a commercial break. A very short commercial break.