August 6, Wednesday morning, China time

It seems like only yesterday — or was it tomorrow? — that I packed all my things, bundled all my wires, counted all my underwear and headed off for China.

But this morning I had to do it all over again.

It’s not my intention to bore anyone with the silly details of a journalist’s life at the Olympics. There are no woe-is-me stories to be told. And I won’t make fun of what people eat here or what people think here or how people see the world here. I’ll let the less polite bloggers dump that stuff on you.

But for those of you in operations and event planning … don’t hire me.

This morning here I’m about to hop on a bus for five hours to watch the first event of the Olympics for a U.S. team. Because of the size of the pool and the number of days in the Olympics and collection of stadiums required, the women’s soccer tournament actually begins today — two days before the opening ceremony — in Qinhuangdao, about 200 miles east of Beijing. U.S. vs. Norway, good game, first American action. Gotta be there.

But it’s not that easy. A train would have been the way to go. Could have been on one early this a.m. But there are no night trains back after the game. And I need to be in Beijing bright and early Thursday. I pondered a train one way and an official Olympics bus on the return. No can do. Transport officials here wouldn’t allow that.

OK, so what’s a SportsBusiness Journal Olympics Bureau reporter to do? He might want to bring a second shirt because the bus could get hot and we won’t be back in Beijing until perhaps 5 a.m. Thursday. He needs an extra computer battery because my Mac won’t last for five hours working on the bus. (Steve Jobs, are you listening?) Toothbrush, toothpaste. Wires for still photo download. Wires for video camera upload. Extra electrical outlet adapter for charging everything besides the laptop.

As my mother used to say before I went off to school: “Homework, pencils, glasses, books?”

Got ’em all. But here’s the other rub.

The U.S. flagbearer will be named Thursday at 9 a.m., about four hours after we’re slated to return from Qinhuangdao. If I want to attend that news conference, which I sort of do, that means I might just change my clothes at the Main Press Center. Thus, I brought shaving cream and a razor because the 9 a.m. announcement is followed by a series of other functions at the MPC.

So, this little soccer game out in the hinterlands has turned into a repacking adventure.

Which leads to this: Every Olympics I lose clothes. I mean, I don’t misplace them. But I send them out to the hotel laundry and, invariably, the bundle comes back with a briefer batch of briefs than I delivered and a shorter set of shorts.

In China, I figured, that wouldn’t happen.

Welcome to the Olympics. Three shirts were missing last night.

Welcome to Chinese efficiency. The shirts were discovered this morning.

But, of course, because I was running out for the bus to Qinhuangdo, I had to pack the silly shirts in my bag.

I’m ready for a really long bus ride.