SEATTLE -- It's difficult running an Olympic site, because there are those pesky 204 weeks out of every 208 when they're not actually going on. Last time around, I lasted four months before things fell apart again.

In 2008, I wrote thousands of words in this space from my couch, because I was one of the many empty seats in Beijing thanks to China's delay-first, ask-questions-never visa policy. This time, I'll actually be there. Tonight, Friday evening, is the Opening Ceremony for the XXI Winter Olympic Games in Vancouver. I won't actually be able to cross the border and make it -- not that I had a ticket anyway -- but I should get there in time to see the cauldron go through its first few metric tons of fuel.

Over the next 16 days, I'll be posting words and pictures here, as well as daily results dumps to account for the fact that the official site will disappear in 18 months again. For historical data, there is no substitute for Sports Reference and Bill Mallon's OLYMadmen project.

I'll be attending events, trading pins and going to Cultural Olympiad presentations like everyone else, but I'll spare you the Vacation in Olympia approach. I'm going to British Columbia with bigger questions about the health of the Movement. This feels like a crucial festival, and of course they all do, and there will be protesters, like there always are. As long as the Olympic Games go on, people will use them to further causes.

But there's something different about Vancouver. These Games play against the backdrop of a global economic downturn; we're all still trying to figure out if it's a phase and a dip, or a complete redefinition of money's value. The effect on Vancouver 2010 has been undeniable and well-chronicled.

The IOC's core sponsorship base has been in flux for the past two years, and organizers are becoming increasingly aggressive about policing sponsorship agreements to ensure exclusivity and value. The city itself is looking at gigantic debt slashed credit ratings, and the jack-in-the-box spectre of Montreal 1976's decades of negative financial aftermath pop up again. And the American broadcaster stands to lose no less than $200 million on this, which is significant because U.S. TV revenue is the IOC's largest source of income. This dynamic alone could transform how future Games go on.

It's also the last Winter Games of the Jacques Rogge era. By the time Sochi 2014 rolls around, there will be a new IOC president. There will also be a new American TV rights contract, following the $2 billion NBA paid to show Vancouver and London, and there will be a new chapter in the Olympics' strange relationship with the United States.

What I want to learn in the next two weeks is: who will benefit from these Games? Will anyone? And from the standpoint of a massive sports spectacle, what happens when the value of the product is not in line with its price? Will the correction be gradual and subtle, or disruptive and destructive?

So I hope you'll stick around, grab the RSS feed and/or follow the tweets. Actual content coming later to replace this early trend of theoretical hand-waving. I've just got a short northbound drive to do first.