These Games are heavy with anticipation and drama

All of this started with a game of table tennis.

In April 1971, the idea of China hosting an Olympics was as unimaginable as the collapse of the Berlin Wall.

The frost still was on the Cold War. No communist country had yet hosted the Games. And China was an impregnable mystery.

But in 1971, after competing in the World Table Tennis Championships in Nagoya, Japan, after a series of coincidental meetings and memos, the U.S. table tennis team accepted a surprising all-expenses paid invitation to play in China.

These nine players became the first group of Americans to enter the country since the Communist takeover in 1949. They began the slow movement that has led us to Beijing in August 2008.

This trip was the first sign of thaw in Sino-U.S. relations and the first hint of a sporting revolution in China. Journalists called the trip Ping-Pong Diplomacy. These friendly games, won by China, were a symbol of the country's global reawakening.

Thirty-seven years later, the Olympic Games have come to China. And this Olympics is probably heavier with anticipation and anxiety than any since the Cold War.

China is in front of the world like never before. Sure, it hosted the women's soccer World Cup last year. It exported all-star Yao Ming to the NBA's Rockets and Yi Jianlian, now with the Nets. Major League Baseball and the NBA have played exhibition games there.

But the Olympic Games are different — more ponderous, more difficult, larger-than-life — from any other sports event in the world.

And this Olympics is particularly cloaked in mystery, and restrictions.

There is a fear that the host city will be locked down, and that covering them could be a logistics nightmare for journalists. Broadcasters, still negotiating for what they will be allowed to air outside of sporting venues, recently won permission to show Tiananmen Square, but only in the early morning and late evening. Three area parks have been denoted as places for political protest, as long as the Chinese government grants permission, which by law must be five days in advance.

There also is the tension that comes with every Olympics held at a time when the United States is at war. There are terrorist alerts and unprecedented security hurdles.

But there also is a level of excitement to see something this wondrous happening in a country that is so rich in history and culture. A country that is so huge, and for most Westerners, still so exotic.

No Olympics comes off without a hitch. There will be protests outside the lines. There will be missteps. The dirty air will be a significant problem for many athletes and, of course, "big brothers" will be watching and reading all of us.

But I think China understands the opportunities — economic, athletic and cosmetic — that these Games bring.

This will be my eighth Olympics, and this is, by far, the one I've most anticipated. Beijing isn't some city-come-lately like Sydney or Atlanta. Next to Athens in 2004, the backdrop here will be the most perfect mixture of yesterday and tomorrow.

I'm excited to see the new architecture, which National Geographic calls "The New Great Walls," that are part of a new skyline supporting the country's great old treasures.

The dramatic Bird's Nest that is the National Stadium. The aquatics center nicknamed the Water Cube. The leaning towers of China Central Television headquarters and the titanium-walled National Center for the Performing Arts.

That said, the Games should always be more about its athletes than its architects, more about the players than the politicians.

The athletes will overcome any difficulties. From Jesse Owens to Mark Spitz, they always do.

For the next three weeks, we will be treated to hundreds of glimpses of greatness. Many more indelible moments.

Imagine Brad Walker of Mountlake Terrace winning the pole vault. Or former WSU star Bernard Lagat hauling in double gold on the track. Or our own Megan Quann Jendrick adding a third gold swimming medal to her collection.

Think about Michael Phelps' quest for eight gold medals. And 41-year-old Dara Torres trying to beat the odds and win one gold medal, or even two.

Washington's Hope Solo is returning to China looking for redemption and gold as the keeper on the U.S. women's soccer team. And sprinter Allyson Felix will try for three golds.

Consider the staggering weight being carried by China's elite athletes into their pools, their stadiums, their courts.

Nothing short of gold is demanded from 110-meter hurdler Liu Xiang. Wimbledon semifinalist Zheng Jie is expected to medal and the pressure on returning hoops hero Yao Ming will be palpable. And glamorous diver Guo Jingjing will be pegged to win another gold on the springboard.

For China, this has been a long journey from the diplomacy of the pingpong tables in 1971 to the reality of the 2008 Olympics. The athletes who competed in those first table-tennis matches helped crack open this country.

As the Games begins, let's focus on the players and the sacrifices, disappointments and ambitions they've brought with them to China.

Let's count the days until Bonney Lake's Melanie Roach competes in weightlifting. And former Husky Aretha Thurmond throws the discus.

Let's hope Tyson Gay's troublesome hamstring has healed and that we have a 100-meter final among Gay, Usain Bolt, Asafa Powell and Walter Dix that will sustain us for another four years.

These Olympic Games don't belong to the politicians. They belong to Torres and Liu, to Guo and Roach, to Yao and Thurmond.

China provides this spectacular backdrop. China adds an inescapable air of excitement. But the Olympics still belongs to the athletes.

All of them.

Steve Kelley: skelley@seattletimes.com