BEIJING -- The actor Christopher Walken once claimed in a "Saturday Night Live" skit that he had a fever that could only be cured by "more cowbell." Well, I can honestly say I have fallen victim to a similar fate.

Only my fever is of the five-ringed variety, and the only cure is more Olympics.

Truth be told, I have been practically glued to the TV since the games began. Which, really, is not so dramatic in consideration of the several screens all over the city, in subway cars, cafŽs, malls, on the sides of buildings and the entryways of parks.

Last week, I managed to tear myself away from events long enough to eat dinner in the USA House Hospitality Center as a mother of a U.S. Men's Water Polo player.

After making it through the multiple security checks, I helped myself to the buffet spread and chatted with the family members of rowing, volleyball and water-polo athletes. On my way out of the rather swank "home away from home," I noticed a huge map of the U.S. with pins marking people's hometowns. With so many pins lining the coast of California, I felt obligated to balance out the U.S. representation, and literally put Augusta on the Olympic map.

I was invited to join "the water-polo moms" at their sons' next game. Each ticket is good for three games, so I watched Croatia beat Germany before the U.S. lost a close game to Serbia.

The most exciting game was played by Hungary, a country that holds water polo as the national sport and won gold in Athens. While the defending Olympic champions proved to be a powerhouse in the pool against Spain, their fans in the stands were nothing short of spectacular. Imagine Patriots fans at the playoffs but in red, white and green (with the occasional clown wig) bellowing "HUN-GA-RIA" in thunderous unison.

Hungary and Spain may have had boisterous support, but the first two games had noticeably smaller crowds.

The issue of empty seats at a reportedly sold-out Olympics has led many to speculate either corporate sponsor no-shows or visa problems for international ticket holders. The women's field hockey games of the U.S. vs. Great Britain and New Zealand vs. Argentina may have had more empty seats than occupied, although the stadium next to us was packed with Chinese fans supporting their own team against Australia.

Even the Bird's Nest on Tuesday morning had a noticeable number of empty seats. In an effort to fill the gaps, Olympic organizers have begun bringing in Chinese volunteers with their bright yellow and red T-shirts to form a well-trained cheering section.

Despite the low-attendance records of some events, there is a definite energy that has filled the increasingly clear air. Questions of event attendance have become standard greetings and rumors abound as to which athletes are going to show up at which nightclub after their wins.

Michael Phelps' 8th gold-medal win garnered a universal excitement rivaled only by the national disappointment of Lu Xiang's injured exit from his hurdle races. On one trip to a market (one that was allowed to stay open during the games), the narrow walkways were so packed with athletes we all could have easily played a few rounds of Olympian Bingo.

Proud of their gifts from visiting athletes, many vendors showed off their pin collections. An unexpected change, they were more interested in trading pins than haggling prices.

The tight quarters at the market were nothing compared to the insanity at the Olympic stores. My quest to purchase a few souvenirs very much resembled the experience of those who tried to get their hands on a Power Ranger or Tickle Me Elmo at the peak of their popularity. As it turned out, in avoiding the long line outside the store in the Olympic Village, I unwittingly committed myself to an Olympic mosh pit across town.

Aug. 24 will mark the end of what could be called an era.

Since winning the bid, the games have become the focal point of a large portion of China's resources in an effort to put a "best face" toward a curious, if often skeptical, world. With the positive developments came some not so favorable ones, and the end result still seems to be a work in progress.

Perhaps more interesting than tracking what the Olympics brought with them when they rolled into town will be to see what fills the massive void it will leave behind.

Kira Leinonen is a 2002 graduate of Cony High School in Augusta. After graduating from McGill University, she moved to Beijing, where she is taking language classes. She plans to teach English at a local university.