The notion that lasting peace may result from the Winter Olympics is a bit far-fetched, not that the world shouldn’t take whatever chance it can.
Using my own experience as a gauge, what results from the Winter Olympics is hat hair and broken bones.
I cracked a collarbone in Albertville and covered those games with one arm tied across my chest. I fell no fewer than 15 times on invisible sheet ice in Lillehammer, leaving most of my kneecaps in Norway.
Monkeys threw feces at me in Nagano, and my nail clipper was seized as a weapon in Salt Lake City, so let’s just say my optimism does not bubble up.
Less personally, it is impossible not to bring up the aftermath of...