Waiting For Izzy By David Fleming OK, now it's getting ridiculous. I've been here 11 days, 11 hours and 32 minutes and have yet to see the Olympic mascot Izzy. The search began the minute I touched down here in Atlanta. And the only obstacle was what, exactly, was I looking for? Designed by animator John R. Ryan, Izzy first appeared as Whatizit in 1992. But after being panned more than Striptease and New Coke combined, he underwent a major makeover prior to the Games. A facelift that apparently hasn't worked. A recent poll reported that 72-percent of America had no idea what he looked like. His fan club (it is a he, right?) has less than 5,000 people in it, or 290,000 less than the Ninja Turtles Club. Some have speculated that Izzy dwells in a magical garden. Was I looking for something described by Simpson creator Matt Groening as a "bad marriage of the Pillsbury doughboy and the ugliest California Raisin." Or, was he the guy various newspapers have called, a "blue doofus", "Road Kill", "Getridofit", "Whoneedzit" and "not a peach or a peanut, not a possum or a bulldog . . . he is a blue slug, or termite, or guppy, or something, with oversized red sneakers, stars for pupils and lightning bolts for eyebrows." To me it's simple. Izzy resembles exactly what we all thought we looked like in seventh grade. The second snag is that ACOG, already red-faced by how poorly things are going here, appears to be flat out embarrassed by the little aqua amoeba with eye balls 10-times the size of his four-fingered hands and a tail that makes him look like he had Olympic rings and some prune juice for lunch. So someone has made him tougher to get to than a head of state or a rock star. I mean, there's better access to the Chinese swimmers and IBM's Olympic stats are easier to track down than this dude. He wasn't at the opening ceremonies and is not scheduled to be at the closing festivities either. Have you seen him on TV at all? I've been to nearly 20 events, spanning the entire Olympic Ring and the blue doofus was nowhere to be found. By contrast, in Barcelona Cobi the mascot was everywhere, and he towered over all in the form of a four story balloon likeness tethered to a downtown building. The mother of all Izzies hawks her wares on International Blvd. My question for ACOG is, has the little guy been kidnapped? Suffered heat stroke? OD'ed on complimentary Coke? Did he check himself into the Miss Piggy Center for chemically dependent puppets? Or is big I, little Y, on a cross-country crime spree with the Phillie Phanatic? On the phone to ACOG I was transferred or redirected EIGHT times searching for Izzy info on day No. 1 alone. Using Bob Costas's description of the I-man, I quickly realized this assignment was an "experiment that had gone horribly, ghastly wrong." Six more visits to the media services desk and the exchange of several pins produced what seemed like a top secret fax of Izzy's schedule at Centennial Olympic Park. With camera at the ready, like a guy hunting Bigfoot, I staked out the COP for three and a half days, making, at least three dozen circles of the park. Nothing. Exactly 28 "Hanes Helpers" had no idea of his whereabouts, although this should not come as a shock, this group has been about as helpful as Doc Martens in an Olympic swimming final the last week. Still, I checked the bottom of the Centennial pond and around the Port-A-Johns. I asked tourists: ¿Donde esta senor blue toad de Olympics? Zip. Hmm, lets see, if I were Izzy, where would I go. Ah, hah. I checked the giant tent at Budweiser World. Nada. THERE HE IS! I thought. Nope, it was just former Guns-n-Roses basist Izzy Stradlin, wading in the fountain for coins. Then I saw a crowd gathered around a large blue blob with yellow flags sticking out the top. Dawgonnit, it was just a cash machine. M. Hanes ne connait pas M. Izzy. That's when I realized I had crossed the line from reporter to muppet stalker. Six hours later, around midnight, a COP guard gave me my first solid lead. "He just went to bed," said Greg Puckett. "We decided to send him home, the later it gets (read: the more beer people get in them), the more shovin' and tuggin' people do on him." According to Pucket, the I-man and his entourage of six (two guards, a helper, a driver and two handlers), made one quick circle of the park in something that resembled the Popemobile before Iz decided to call it a day, heading back to his bungalow inside the Olympic flame where, ACOG says, the little fella lives. This appeared to be hiz modus operandi: Quick hits with minimal exposure, keeping the snickering to a minimum before going home to get toasted. "No one is hiding him at all," one Izzy rep told us. "He's out there from 7 a.m. to 1 a.m. at as many as a dozen places per day. And the kids really love him, he's bombarded with hugs whereever he goes. If you haven't seen him yet I guess you've just been unlucky." Well, considering that this turquoise tadpole sort of scares me a little bit, I'm glad he's been invizzyable.

Izzy Sightings: 0 And don't miss: Day 1: Carbo-Nation Day 2: Pindemonium Day 3: Bobsled Tryouts Day 4: Ticket Fairy Day 5: Trainspotting Day 6-7: SI Online Decathlon Day 8: A Dream Deferred

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