Well, this is embarrassing to say the least. I, Bob Costas, have yet another raging case of pink eye or, as it’s most commonly known, ‘caca finger’. My doctors don’t know why exactly this happens to me during the Olympics — something about long flights, stress and putting my face very close to airplane bathroom seats. Anyway, that’s the bad news.
The good news I’m in Rio and this city is such a mess, no one’s even going to notice! The Olympic Village is a disaster — the US basketball teams won’t even stay there. They’re staying on a giant cruise ship to avoid the broken toilets and exposed wiring in the Village. The air is toxic, the water is toxic and crime is everywhere.
Sochi wasn’t perfect but, even so, my pink eye was big news. At the Rio Olympics, my poo eyes won’t even warrant a joke in a late night show monologue. That’s good news for me and my weeping, pussing, infected eyes. I don’t think I can take another Olympics of people asking me, “Bob, you still sniffing toilet seats?” Cause, yeah. I am.