I think I'm going to have to start training now for the next Olympic games. Maybe if Michael Phelps decides to get out of the pool and start swimming in all his endorsement money, then Bob Bowman could be available to coach me. I don't need to break a world record in the 200 meter butterfly, but Bob could help me out with a little endurance training, because all these late nights in front of the television are just killing me.

While gymnasts are doing back flips, hanging from rings, and 25 other things that human beings really aren't supposed to do, I'm trying not to drip ice cream in the bed. While marathon runners finish 24 miles, then continue to jog around the stadium with their respective countries' flags, I'm trying to keep my eyes open. I don't want to miss any of the action, but this Olympic commitment is just exhausting.

I've been dragging around a week at work, because of sports like synchronized diving and trampoline gymnastics. Normally, I could watch my kids jump off the side of the pool in tandem or catch the neighbors bobbing up and down on their trampoline and have my fill. But someone had to start handing out medals for such things and now I'm sucking on Mountain Dew all day to keep my eyes open long enough to catch a glimpse of a Bulgarian lady in a pink leotard bounce 50 feet in the air repeatedly.

I don't know. It may be the sleep deprivation, Mary Carillo's attempts at humor, or the fact that Bob Costas is the last person I see every night these days, but some of these sports are confusing. I mean the Olympic committee has decided to get rid of baseball, but badminton has risen to the level of Super Bowl status. Badminton?

I thought this was a game a guy played in the backyard with a beer in one hand. Now they're handing out medals for it. happen to catch both the men and women's finals (don't ask me how), and it looked like something from the movie Gladiator. Fans were going nuts; the athletes were crying, and all I could think was, "A beer sure would taste good about now." The Chinese are apparently as crazy about badminton as the French are about Jerry Lewis. But it is the Olympics, and by the end of those matches I have to admit I was jumping up and down screaming, "Smack that feathery rubber ball!"

The Olympic games have that effect on people. When else would millions watch swimming with such vigor? A lot of sports fans won't even stay up late to watch the NBA finals, but if Bob Costas comes on at 10:50 pm and says the semifinals of the 400- meter hurdles are coming up in 45 minutes, then we start figuring out ways to squeeze in a little more sleep the next morning because we can't miss that.

I'm one of those people. That's why I need help. I'll start training when Bob Bowman calls, but for now, I think I'll just go take a nap. What? Did someone say table tennis is on? Handball too? I guess that nap will have to wait.