Quotes of the Day
The completion of a sports stadium is usually a boring business involving a ribbon, a pair of scissors, maybe a magnum of champagne. But when engineers last week conducted a test of the sliding roof over the 75,000-seat Olympic Stadium in Athens — the venue for the opening ceremony on Aug. 13 — the event was filled with drama and anxiety. Its outcome would determine whether the architectural centerpiece of the Games would get to wear its Santiago-Calatrava-designed cap or stand roofless under the Mediterranean sun — and whether security experts and television crews could move into the stadium in time to complete their preparations. Above all, last week's test would conquer or confirm worldwide suspicions that Athens was blowing its deadline for the Games. The roof was already three months behind schedule, another dismal detail in a building program plagued by chronic delays and charges of incompetence. Anxious to avoid a p.r. fiasco, authorities limited coverage to Greek state TV. The Deputy Culture Minister nervously smashed a bottle of red wine on the base of the arch and looked skyward.
The gods of Olympus answered her silent prayer. The 9,000-ton roof segment moved — just. The closing, fittingly, was excruciatingly slow, the huge steel arch moving at a rate of 5.5 m/h as teams of engineers and builders hung like spiders from ropes and perched on cranes. It took four days in all. "Thank God," sighed Greece's chief Olympic organizer Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki when it was finally over. Other blessings soon followed, as the International Olympic Committee delivered its final report on Athens' preparations, noting that 25 of 35 sporting venues were ready, and the remaining 10 at least 85% complete. "We had doubts," the I.O.C.'s Denis Oswald told reporters. But "all these doubts have disappeared."
There is an element of suspense to every Olympic Games. Getting everything ready on time for the biggest show on earth proves a challenge for most hosts. Atlanta had its share of delays and construction snafus before a last-minute frenzy snapped its facilities into place in time for the 1996 Games. But the Greeks have brought their own special brand of drama. Work stoppages, the sacking of organizers, procrastination, glacier-speed planning and now a breathless dash to the finish have already made these Olympics memorable for the wrong reasons. "Let's not kid ourselves. These are the Greek Games and they're being done the Greek way," says a Greek project manager overseeing several venues south of Athens.
The I.O.C.'s unexpected bullishness stemmed in part from reduced expectations. The alarm was sounded in 2000 by then I.O.C. president Juan Antonio Samaranch, who said the Athens effort was the worst organizational crisis in recent Olympic history. When Angelopoulos-Daskalaki took over the Games organization shortly after, she scaled back extravagant projects. Last February, the I.O.C.'s new president, Jacques Rogge, urged Greeks to forget the frills. Landscaping plans were pruned, a rail line was cancelled and the plastic roof over the Aquatic Center was scrapped.
Even if everything goes well from here, those compromises will be felt. Visitors are being advised to wear comfortable shoes and be prepared to hoof it. Some insiders say these
|
||||
The most troubled Games project is also the most historically resonant, embodying both the promise and the frustrations of these Olympics. The marathon — the crowning event in any summer Games — this year will retrace the original route taken by the messenger Pheidippides from the village of Marathon to Athens in 490 B.C. to announce the Athenians' victory over Persia. Organizers wanted to widen the route, but a Greek company assigned to the task took two years to complete 2.5 km. Authorities waited until the firm went belly-up this year before finding a replacement. Work originally scheduled to be completed by April now has a wish-and-a-prayer July deadline, without landscaping or other embellishments.
But the roof worked, and there are other bright spots. Greece has finished, on time, a brand-new airport, the Olympic village and parts of a new subway. The Markopoulo Equestrian Center is "an Olympic venue par excellence," said British equestrian Matt Straker, attending a recent test event. Athens itself, an ancient city with enough noisy charm to put Sydney and Atlanta to shame, is being spruced up. Some of the city's 60,000 stray cats and dogs have been corralled. Billboards have been taken down and potholes filled. Organizers say they have already sold 1.8 million tickets, or 76% of their target, for €136 million. (An additional 3.5 million tickets go on sale next month.) They're expecting a full house, even though there will likely be 20% fewer Americans than in previous Games, thanks to the plunging value of the dollar and terror fears. "Considering these Games are taking place under the worst possible global psychology," says a senior organizing official, "these are blockbuster sales." As for Greeks themselves, in a recent poll 97% said they welcome the Olympics, despite all the difficulties. In the village of Marathon, Martha Sirakou, 43, a housewife whose mountain views have been obscured by a new stadium, is ready to greet the world anyway. "This is the price you have to pay," she explains, "for living where it all began."
- ANDREW PURVIS
- Athens tops off its Olympic Stadium and gets a big thumbs-up for its prep work