Athens Clears A Hurdle

The completion of a sports stadium is usually a boring business involving a ribbon, a pair of scissors, maybe a magnum of champagne. But when engineers last week conducted a test of the sliding roof over the 75,000-seat Olympic Stadium in Athens — the venue for the opening ceremony on Aug. 13 — the event was filled with drama and anxiety. Its outcome would determine whether the architectural centerpiece of the Games would get to wear its Santiago-Calatrava-designed cap or stand roofless under the Mediterranean sun — and whether security experts and television crews could move into the stadium in time to complete their preparations. Above all, last week's test would conquer or confirm worldwide suspicions that Athens was blowing its deadline for the Games. The roof was already three months behind schedule, another dismal detail in a building program plagued by chronic delays and charges of incompetence. Anxious to avoid a p.r. fiasco, authorities limited coverage to Greek state TV. The Deputy Culture Minister nervously smashed a bottle of red wine on the base of the arch and looked skyward.

The gods of Olympus answered her silent prayer. The 9,000-ton roof segment moved — just. The closing, fittingly, was excruciatingly slow, the huge steel arch moving at a rate of 5.5 m/h as teams of engineers and builders hung like spiders from ropes and perched on cranes. It took four days in all. "Thank God," sighed Greece's chief Olympic organizer Gianna Angelopoulos-Daskalaki when it was finally over. Other blessings soon followed, as the International Olympic Committee delivered its final report on Athens' preparations, noting that 25 of 35 sporting venues were ready, and the remaining 10 at least 85% complete. "We had doubts," the I.O.C.'s Denis Oswald told reporters. But "all these doubts have disappeared."

There is an element of suspense to every Olympic Games. Getting everything ready on time for the biggest show on earth proves a challenge for most hosts. Atlanta had its share of delays and construction snafus before a last-minute frenzy snapped its facilities into place in time for the 1996 Games. But the Greeks have brought their own special brand of drama. Work stoppages, the sacking of organizers, procrastination, glacier-speed planning and now a breathless dash to the finish have already made these Olympics memorable for the wrong reasons. "Let's not kid ourselves. These are the Greek Games and they're being done the Greek way," says a Greek project manager overseeing several venues south of Athens.