Heavy-Medal Event Hits Wrong Note

These brave, sophisticated Winter Olympics held the first medal ceremony Saturday night.

Somehow managing to squeeze it in between giant plastic puck tosses and a joke about a monkey scratching its rear.

After a day of inspirational competition, precious hardware was draped around the necks of, among others, Americans Derek Parra and Shannon Bahrke.

But only after everyone had grown weary of Mambo Jumbo and Heart 2 Heart.

It is a recent Winter Olympics tradition to bring the winners down from the mountain and embrace them later that evening in the city square.

But do we first have to dance the Macarena?

Just before watching the world’s finest athletes step to the podium, do we have to sit in 15-degree temperatures listening to a certain comedian sing a song filled with Olympic-related double entendres while attempting a Swedish accent?

The thrill of victory. The agony of Bob Saget.

“What the hell is this?” asked one foreign visitor in a real German accent. “This is not funny. This is cold.”

So it went Saturday inside what was supposed to be a unique winners’ circle for the Olympic Games.

Transformed, instead, into another American rock concert.

And the medal winners weren’t even the stars.

On the contrary, they were only one of several warmup acts for the Dave Matthews Band.

And it wasn’t hard to figure whom the 20,000 folks who crowded the makeshift downtown outdoor arena came to see.

Hint: It wasn’t Jochem Uytdehaage.

In fact, when the big screens showed 5,000-meter speedskating silver medalist Parra crying, the crowd’s roars drowned out the final refrains of winner Uytdehaage’s Dutch national anthem.

I spoke with families, young single adults, buddies from college, and all sounded just like stockbroker Tom Murray from Denver.

“The medals are cool, but we’re here to see Dave Matthews,” he said.

It is nice idea, corraling the energy of the Games every evening into a security-tight venue with bleachers and a stage.

It is an even nicer idea giving away all free tickets to the events, one of the demands by the Mormon church when it donated the land.

“Our concept was to create one place where this community can experience the Games and celebrate the heroes,” said Scott Givens, creative director for the organizing committee.

And for four hours Saturday, the Olympic Medals Plaza was overtaken with singing, swaying and clapping.

It was indeed a place for celebrating.

But considering none of that involved the athletes, it was not a place for medals.

From the modern interpretive dance that accompanied the podium’s entrance, to the glitzy announcement that welcomed the next act, there was something too choreographed about what is supposed to be an affair of the heart.

Nowhere was this more evident than after the ceremony involving the three medalists in the men’s 30-kilometer cross-country skiing.

After coming together on the top of the podium, they draped their arms around each other and basked in the twinkling of flashbulbs.

Until a little girl dressed like a snowball tugged the arm of bronze medalist Mikhail Botvinov of Austria. And another little girl tugged the arm of silver medalist Christian Hoffmann.

Time’s up. Another act is waiting. Off the stage. Now.

I guess they were lucky organizers didn’t yank them away with a big hook.

As it was, after the final ceremony involving the 5,000-meter speedskaters, the stage lights were turned off on Uytdehaage as he preened at the front of the stage, throwing flowers into the stands.

He had to leave, and quick.

After all, the Dave Matthews Band was waiting.

One cannot imagine this happening if the medals were awarded at the individual venues, as occurs in the Summer Games.

The athletes spend their lives working toward these medals. Is it too much to ask that we give them the entire stage when they win them?

On Saturday, three women owned the slopes at Soldier Hollow.

Yet later that evening, they had to share their glory with somebody shouting, “C’mon folks, the more you twist, the warmer you’ll get!”

After its tasteful and inspirational opening ceremonies, the Salt Lake organizers are now batting .500.

I knew something was odd when I walked into the Medals Plaza and found an old football buddy sweeping trash. Guy by the name of Steve Young.

“I do everything,” he said with a grin, and this is a good thing.

But then he jumped on stage and introduced the venue’s host for the first four days, well-worn comedian Saget.

This is not a good thing.

Those church members who donated this land were surely flinching at several questionable jokes, while everyone flinched at all the bad ones.

He was just part of a pre-medals act that included a salsa band, an oldies group, and several “games” that were played with the cheerleaders and the crowd.

That those games used giant blowup pucks and balls gave Saget even more fodder for comedy.

Finally, nearly three hours after it opened, the crowd cold and restless and waiting for Matthews, the medalists arrived.

In coming days, the crowd will be waiting for such big acts as Barenaked Ladies, Smash Mouth and Goo Goo Dolls.

It only figured Saturday that after the first presentation, the U.S. flag got stuck on one of the flagpoles. It remained for the rest of the ceremonies while workers below desperately tried to lower it with grace.

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