SALT LAKE CITY -- At about 6 p.m. MT Friday night, the whole idea of the Olympics seemed like a quaint anachronism.

The lines to enter the University of Utah football stadium were both interminable and necessary. Every bag, every camera, every pocket was checked and re-checked. The helicopters -- the black helicopters of conspiracy lore -- thock thock thocked overhead.

It has to be asked: Was it worth the trouble? Was it worth the money and the inconvenience and the risk? The Games themselves are run by con men and cheats; we know this from our history books and our current newspapers. There's graft in the suits and oftentimes drugs in the urine. The concept of the hard-working amateur was discarded long ago.

So at 6 p.m. the answer might have been no. At the very least, you could make the argument.

But then around two hours later something changed. The athletes had made their way into the stadium and everything else faded away.

It might be misplaced nostalgia -- a childhood vision of Franz Klammer or Eric Heiden -- but damned if you don't feel something when the countries are announced and the athletes walk in and smile and goof for the cameras.

(For me, the moment of change occurred during the back-to-back announcements of Slovakia and Slovenia. The Slovakian journalists to my right leapt to their feet, camcorders humming, when their country's flag appeared in the runway. Not to be outdone, the Slovenian journalists to my left clapped each other on the back and wiped away tears when their athletes came into view.)

The Opening Ceremonies themselves were an epic production, or maybe several epic productions. That is not to say it was particularly compelling, but there were a lot of earnest young men and women who put a whole lot of time and effort into figuring out the many ways in which skating humans can look like the surrounding flora and fauna.

There were skating icicles, some moose, a few transparent oak trees, some prairie grasses, a rattlesnake and one extremely large buffalo. It was David Lynch on Ice, with Marty Stouffer getting a hefty consultant's fee.

The controversy surrounding the presence of the flag from the World Trade Center was mostly muted by a dignified presentation during the national anthem and a quick retreat following it.

R. Kelly earned himself the day's Shameless Patriot Award by wearing the flag as clothing.

We learned that Chinese Taipei in French is Chinese Taipei.

We learned that The Netherlands' team, as it was dressed Friday night, looks like Team UPS.

None of the silliness or the overkill or the forced flag-waving should matter, though, because the events begin Saturday and we'll all be watching.

You, like me, might wince at the sight of Apolo Anton Ohno in a Nike commercial before he's even laced on his skates, but that shouldn't stop you from watching him skate.

You know going in that you'll hear the word "dream" used so many different ways it will cease to register in your brain. But at some point you'll be caught up in the story of a Latvian luger, and knowing his story will bring you a little closer to the rest of the world.

Corny? Sure, but through the made-for-TV commercialism, the Olympics thrive on corny.

Admit it: For the next couple of weeks, corny wins. The sight of the 1980 U.S. hockey team gathering under the torch to light the caldron served to trump skepticism.

The Slovakians and Slovenians helped, too.

Tim Keown is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tim.keown@espnmag.com.