The Sports Illustrated Olympic Daily is published in Salt Lake City and available in event venues and on newsstands for 16 straight days during the 2002 Winter Games. Here are some sights and scenes from today’s edition.

Do Svidaniya?

Smarting from perceived injustices, Russia threatens to walk

The disqualification of Lazutina (2) was apparently the last straw for Russia. Peter Read Miller

Russia tried its best yesterday to resurrect the cold war. In a rambling tirade long on bluster and short on specificity, Russian Olympic officials addressed grievances from these Olympics and hinted at other complaints reaching back two decades. In doing so, committee president Leonid Tyagachev said that his athletes have been treated so unfairly that "we're ready to leave the Olympic Village."

Where judges and officials have ruled against the Russians, Tyagachev sees conspiracies. First came pairs figure skating, in which Anton Sikharulidze and Elena Berezhnaya eventually shared the gold medal with David Pelletier and Jamie Salé of Canada. Then came Russia's 1-0 victory Wednesday over the Czech Republic in men's hockey, a game in which an official gave a 10-minute misconduct penalty to forward Ilya Kovalchuk. Last came yesterday's women's cross-country 4x5-km relay, a race that the Russians have won in three consecutive Olympics. Shortly before the relay, however, Larissa Lazutina, who skied on each of those winning teams and has nine medals to her credit, failed her prerace blood test. The hemoglobin in her blood surpassed the limit of 16 grams per deciliter by eight tenths. A similar fate befell Valentina Shevchenko of Ukraine. Because neither team received news of the failed tests until after the two-hour deadline for submitting start lists, neither could furnish a substitute, and both were disqualified. (Germany won the gold.)

The Russians took their fight to the court of public opinion. "In every sport," said Tyagachev, "we defend our honor." Indeed, yesterday's speechifying may have been a preemptive strike at the next controversy involving a Russian athlete -- a strike fueled at least in part by Russia's realization that its power within the Olympic movement has been eroding since the dissolution of the Soviet Union. Last night, though, the IOC made clear that Russia and its concerns were far from unimportant. "The stakes are high, the emotions are high," said IOC secretary general François Carrard. "These protests are part of these emotions." Hopefully, what happens next will be based on reason.

—Brian Cazeneuve and Ivan Maisel

Orange Crush

Q: With the whole world, it seems, gathered in Salt Lake City for the past two weeks, who have the athletes themselves been most excited to meet? Here's a sampling. A: Apolo Anton Ohno, U.S., short-track skater: "I met Lance Armstrong (above). I met Cal Ripken Jr. I met President Bush. I met Michelle Kwan. And they all love short track. Everybody loves short track." A: Alisa Camplin, Australia, aerials: "Apolo Ohno. He is the most gracious second-place getter of the Games." A: Stacey Liapis, U.S., curler: "I shook the hand of the President of the United States. That seems like an impossible thing." A: Vonetta Flowers, U.S., bobsledder: "I met Michelle Kwan at opening ceremonies. I've been following her skating career for years."

When Gianni Romme takes to the ice in the 10,000 meters this afternoon, some of his most boisterous countrymen won't be on hand to watch. Instead, they'll be comfortably ensconced in an orange-bedraped dining room a few miles away, in the clubhouse of the West Ridge Golf Course, eating cheese sandwiches, drinking Heineken and watching their hero on six big-screen televisions.

The Holland Heineken House is the official hangout for fans and athletes from the land of Hans Brinker, who take their partying almost as seriously as they take their speed skating. The club serves three meals a day, provides a shuttle to and from the Utah Olympic Oval, houses a late-night disco and publishes a daily newsletter.

On Tuesday orange-clad rooters filled the upstairs dining room to watch Jochem Uytdehaage attempt to win his second gold, in the 1,500. When Uytdehaage crossed the line in world-record time, the room erupted. When his mark was bettered by Derek Parra of the U.S. about an hour later, the crowd again cheered. "I'm a speed skating fan," said one Dutch reveler. "The best must win. Tonight, we will still have a party."

—Mark Beech

Ultimate Sledder

The table was set for Todd Hays. He had the speed and, as is required of this year's feel-good Games, he had the story. But so far the bobsledder doesn't have a medal. Nor -- which is why we consider him now, after his fourth-place finish in his best event, the two-man last Sunday -- did he have an excuse.

Well, he had an excuse; he just didn't use it. Hays, the 32-year-old ultimate fighter turned bobsled driver from Del Rio, Texas, was competing without his longtime pusher, Pavle Jovanovic. His partner and friend, with whom he'd torn up the World Cup circuit and become an Olympic favorite, had been suspended barely two weeks before the Games after testing positive for a steroid. As a replacement, Hays chose Garrett Hines, a seasoned brakeman.

But bobsled is a sport timed in hundredths of a second. All the advantage accrues to the team with the best push start, and Hays and Jovanovic may have been the best in the world.

"Man, that's a cool belt buckle." —A national guardsman commenting on Bode Miller's silver medal as it went through a security checkpoint at Las Vegas's McCarran Airport last week

Hays has always been a resourceful sort. Needing $10,000 to buy his first sled in 1995, he entered an ultimate fighting contest in Tokyo and, applying what he cheerfully calls the Guillotine Choke, upset the hometown hero and escaped with his new future. He would make do here, too, though he has yet to make good.

After a dismal start in their second preliminary run left Hays and Hines in fifth going into the final, Hays blamed himself, saying he had been late getting into the sled. On Sunday he and Hines put together two blistering runs and seemed set for the bronze. Then the Swiss team came down and edged them out by .03 of a second.

Afterward Hays stood in the cold and defended the result and his team, which is why we consider him now, fourth place and all. (He will go again in the four-man today.) Would he have won with his old partner? Hays demurred. "I didn't drive well enough to win," he said.

Today he gets another chance.

—Richard Hoffer