Official Colors of Next Two Weeks: Red, White and Blue

In this space we’d like to begin coverage of the 2002 Winter Olympics with a message to all those stuffed sweaters fretting over the possibility that, with the world dragging its sleds to our hills, we will overwhelm the events and diminish the Olympic ideal with loud, tacky shows of patriotism: Stick a star-spangled sock in it.

If Americans can’t cheer for their country now, then when?

If Americans can’t light up the room during the next two weeks with a howl for a speedskater from small-town Wisconsin who lives in a mobile home and works at Home Depot and listens to the Dixie Chicks

Since Sept. 11, we’ve ascribed to every major sporting event the power to heal.

We’ve been wrong until now.

The World Series was emotional, the Super Bowl was sentimental, all those giant flags on all those college football fields were inspiring. But since Sept. 11, we haven’t seen anything like this.

At every other event, the American flag is saluted before the event.

For the next two weeks in Salt Lake City, the American flag is the event.

We’re not cheering for the Yankees, we’re cheering for the Yankees.

This is not about a team; this is about a territory.

And to those who worry that our constant USA chants will frighten the Scandinavian silver medalist, or insult the sleek French ski team, or exclude those lovely Italian bobsledders: Pipe down.

If others can’t understand how badly this country can use a cheer, then they are more short-sighted than they claim us to be.

Judging from how much the rest of the world panicked when we were attacked, other countries may want to hear us cheer.

The strong United States means a stronger world. If that world didn’t know this before Sept. 11, it does now.

Yeah, yeah, the Olympics are about a world spirit and global unity and all that.

And, yeah, yeah, the proper way to watch an Olympic event is to cheer evenly for everybody, only barely raising your voice if the competitor is wearing your flag.

But this year is different.

This year, these grand ideals have stumbled into a neighborhood at war. This year, the host country is feeling less like a world ambassador and more like a band of brothers.

And so for these upcoming 16 days, it’s OK to let the howls out.

Our downhill skiers are not New York City or Pentagon rescue workers, but cheer for the freedom they symbolize.

Our figure skaters won’t win the war, but cheer the sort of enduring strength that will.

This is, after all, what every other host country in the world does during these events.

During the 2000 Summer Games in Sydney, the streets were filled with the chants, “Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oy, Oy, Oy.”

Everyone though it was cute and endearing.

Yet when we chant “USA” everyone thinks we’re arrogant? Including ourselves?

It’s strange how we Americans are so quick to embrace another country’s patriotism, yet so careful about our own.

Well, for the rest of the month, stop being so careful.

Scream at the television for Brian Shimer. Convince your family to do a living-room wave for Derek Parra. Brag during lunch about Todd Lodwick.

You’ve never heard of any of these people? Good.

There’s never been a better time to cheer for complete strangers based on the sole fact that we are from the same country.

Isn’t that the definition of patriotism?

Some of the stuffed snowsuits are already worried that we’ll overdo the national pride right from the opening ceremony, warning that we should not allow an American hero to carry the Olympic torch for that final stretch up the steps to the Olympic caldron.

That role should be played by a world hero, they say. That job should be given without national partisanship, they cry.

Oh, shush.

If that person is not somebody who has helped our nation cope with Sept. 11--a rescue worker or an official--then it is a waste of steps.

Hey, in Sydney two years ago, the entire final relay leg was composed of Australian heroes who, at the time, were important to their country for more than sports. Or have we already forgotten the Aboriginal runner Cathy Freeman?

They can do it, but we can’t?

So root, root, root for the home team. Respect others, but not so much that you are afraid to get rowdy for your own.

You can’t be too red. Or too white. Or too blue.

For these 16 days in February, there can be no ugly Americans.

Only Americans.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.