The bias of the Olympic press coverage in Paris is that simply that by being here, you become a participant in the thing you're trying to evaluate. Or at least I did. I felt the Algerians shake Chatrier with their chants of "Imane, Imane." I marveled at the dinky ping pong serves and the monster volleyball blocks.
I even loved the golf, which surprised me by being the Olympics' most egalitarian spectator experience, all ticket-holders equal in our dignified scrambling up the grassy hillocks around the course.
"Paris Superstar," read the cover of Saturday's Libération, the left-wing daily that can usually be counted on for Olympic cynicism. To understand the hype, it helps to recall that all of France was dreading this.
Even the mayor of Paris was saying the public transportation system wasn't ready; the government published a plea for remote work, debunking "prejudices" about tél&eacu.
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