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Bad ratings? No wonder Tape-delayed action just doesn't add up
SYDNEY, Australia -- Word has seeped Down Under that the ratings for NBC's television coverage of the Olympics is down considerably from previous Games. That's a good news/bad news situation. The good news? NBC has exclusive Olympic television rights in the U.S. until Dick Ebersol's grandchildren reach 65, and until it gets a ratings jolt the network will continue to subject the American public to its execrable tape-delayed, up-close-and-personalized, packaged version of the Games whenever they're held in the Pacific rim. So why do networks resort to tape delay when the Games are held in a time zone that's not prime-time friendly? They've already paid for the rights. All their people are here. NBC could run the Games 24 hours a day if Ebersol liked. Why doesn't it? Two words: the soaps. A top executive at CBS, which held the rights to the Nagano Olympics, explained it to me. He hated showing the Games on tape, and his ratings were miserable, too. But the networks are terrified that if they show the Olympics live during non-prime-time hours, viewers who aren't interested in sports would be driven into the arms of the competition. NBC's soap-opera lovers would begin to go into withdrawal, switch to rival CBS in search of a temporary fix, and get hooked on a different cast of tortured lives bent toward adultery. Today show junkies would discover that Diane Sawyer gets up early, too. Local affiliates would scream that their dopey Eyewitness News teams were being scooped in the noon hour by the non-Olympic competition. The result is that the American public gets the crappiest Olympic coverage of any country in the world. You can see more actual action from a TV in a hotel lobby in Borneo than from the fanciest suite in New York City, unless you consider the sight of Bob Costas flapping his lips to be action. You may be watching fencing or kayaking or equestrian eventing, but guess what? Fencing and kayaking and equestrian eventing are interesting in limited doses. They provide the tired mind original images and a measure of mental stimulation as one tries to figure out exactly what is going on. Which is another way of saying: They entertain. Wednesday I watched trap shooting for half an hour while having lunch at a pub. Men's double trap! Never seen it. Didn't know I cared about it until 30 men gathered around the set during the shoot-off between the Englishman and the Australian, groaning at every miss. Tuesday night I got back to my hotel from gymnastics at 2 a.m. and, still slightly wired, flicked on the tube. The fourth quarter of a women's water polo match was in progress between Australia and the U.S. WOMEN'S WATER POLO! This should put me to sleep, I mused. The U.S. and Australia began trading goals. Penalties were called. Power plays ensued. Players were in foul trouble. The ref paced the sidelines. It was all vaguely familiar, but excitingly different, and I sat riveted as Australia held on for a one-goal win. It was in the qualifying round, so no medal was directly at stake. But it was pure sport, and I couldn't leave my seat. Actually, I was in bed. But I couldn't leave my bed! I required no commentator intoning through misty eyes about the water polo star who had the sick sister in the stands, the father who'd sacrificed, the childhood disease which no one thought she'd survive. We just watched the action, and whether NBC believes it or not, that's what about 98 percent of his viewers want, too. Life is tough. We all know that. We tune into the Olympics for something grander than a maudlin story line. Now kindly wipe the Vaseline off that lens and show us the goddamn games, live, 24-hours a day if possible. Package the three hours of prime time if you must, replay to your heart's content, but give us the wondrous spectacle that is the one and only human event that can capture the eyes of the world when it isn't at war. Sports Illustrated senior writer E.M. Swift is in Sydney covering the Olympics for the magazine and CNNSI.com. Check back daily to read Swift's behind-the-scenes reports from Down Under.
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