August 13, 2008 1:34 PM
Ole.
"I'm sorry, but do you know the 'Ole! Ole! Ole!' chant?" I ask.
"Yes," she says, with no obvious recognition of this chant registering on her face.
"Maybe you should try that one instead," I say.
She frowns. "I do not think I am allowed to."
The wheels are in motion before she even finishes the sentence. "Well, if you can't, can I borrow your microphone and do it?" I ask.
She looks back at one of the ushers. He nods.
She set me up in the aisle. I place the boom box-type apparatus -- which looks shockingly like George Jetson's car -- around my neck. She turns the mike on, and for a fleeting second, I consider the following:
I have a microphone. I have a captive audience that does not speak English. If there was ever a time to lead a massive cheer-a-long -- "Gimme a T! I! A! N! A!...." -- this would be it.
If there was ever a time to find myself on the next unmarked Chinese cargo plane back to the United States, this was also it.
So I opt against deportation, give the mike a quick test and -- after realizing that BOCOG's using a sound system that's not even worthy of third prize at an elementary school bingo competition -- attempt to get the crowd going.
[WARNING: the sound levels on the video below are horrific. Do not listen to this at full volume. Please, for your own safety, turn down the volume.]
Yes, some people did actually sing along; about half, probably. The rest seemed to believe that I was placing some sort of curse on their family.
It was certainly worth it for the post-chant ovation, though.





August 13, 2008
2:30 PM
MallinsoN writes:
It looks like you used CGI and put yourself in front of an Olympic stadium background. It must be the smog. Damn those skies are creepy . . . just like America's play on the pitch.