Smashing Moments; or, Eat It, Frenchy

Did you see the men's 4x100-meter freestyle relay the other night in Beijing? Did you see that Frenchman crying in the pool like someone had just put Tabasco sauce in his bidet? Oh, how sweet it is to shut up a jaw-jacker like that Alain Bernard ("We will smash the Americans."). Jason Lezak, you are forever my hero.

The Olympic Games have never failed to provide indelible moments such as that one. Whether it's Kerri Strug vaulting on one leg, or Michael Johnson blowing away the field in his shiny gold shoes, the Olympics always give me reason to celebrate like the American homer that I am. Am I jingoistic? You bet your sweet sushi I am. It's not politically correct to be so, which is all the more reason to be so.

I would not normally watch a swim meet, but since there's a chance for the U.S. to kick some serious tail I'm all over it. I hope Michael Phelps beats them all. I got so excited when Lezak beat Bernard to the wall, I … well, I can't really tell you what I did. Would've gotten me a night in the can if I'd done that in public.

Heck, I'd cheer like a madman for a Tiddlywinks competition if Americans were involved (although I draw the line at synchronized swimming). This is one of the easiest ways for me to show my patriotism. I don't mean to come off as arrogant – although Americans did perfect the art of arrogance; the French invented it – I'm just very proud of my country and those who compete for it. Any non-Americans who don't like it, guess what: Our basketball team could smash yours.