This column on the Olympics has been updated from its first publication in August 2000.

Regular readers of my column know my love of politics. They are probably aware of much about me from my stories or advocacy positions taken. You’ve met my family, some friends, but some personal stuff never seems to come up.

I’m somewhat of a sports nut — at least I used to be. Leave me alone with a big TV and a Sunday afternoon Giants football game — especially when they’re good – and I’m happy. I enjoy watching all types of sporting events — anything but golf.

I no longer have the time to indulge myself in just sitting and watching, so I sit in my home office, at my computer, working while perfectly positioned to watch the big screen in the den. Sports certainly dominate my TV watching time.

I’ve moved from fanatic to casual watcher — but I’m a serious casual watcher, except for every four years when the Summer Olympics invades my life.

To me, the Olympics are clearly the world’s premiere sporting event deserving of every minute I can steal away from whatever else is in my life for those few weeks of Olympic pleasure.

It’s here, it’s now and I haven’t prepared. I’ve checked no schedules; done no advanced preparation. I don’t TIVO. I just have to warn Lil and Allison... this is my time.

1960 Rome

I remember that I first watched the Olympics with my dad when I was a kid in 1960.

I remember Avery Brundage, the American who took over as the head of the Olympic governing body (IOC). Brundage was from the old school — back then I didn’t know there was anything else — he advocated strict amateurism in international sport, and the absolute separation of politics and sports. And that was my introduction to the Olympics.

I grew up across the street from Queens College and my fourth-floor bedroom window overlooked the track that disappeared long ago. Back then, dad and I would watch the QC track meets, and track and field became my favorite.

We watched the 1960 Rome games and I remember little about it but marvelous athletic competition and some national pride. I was introduced to the decathlon by a wonder named Rafer Johnson. I marveled at the fastest woman in the world, Wilma Rudolph. And had my first encounter with amateur boxing when a young American named Cassius Clay captured my imagination.

No politics; no incidents; just sport . . .Bravo!

1964 Tokyo

It was my first recollection of Western involvement in the Far East. Although the Olympics weren’t political, it seemed to me to be one giant political statement that this western power – the United States – and its allies were traveling to post-war Japan for sport.

I assume that due to the time difference, this Olympics got minimal TV play, or perhaps I just remember less.

American discus thrower Al Oerter shocked the world in Tokyo in 1964. Injured, he had to remove his neck brace to hurl an Olympic record and capture his third consecutive gold in the event. Swimmer Donald Schollander introduced me to his sport, capturing four Golds. Jesse Owens, in 1936, was the previous American to win that many.

1968 Mexico City

I was in college in 1968 — involved in the civil rights movement with the campus chapters of C.O.R.E. and S.N.C.C. The movement had infiltrated sports in the US, and black athletes were considering a boycott of the Olympic Games.

The boycott never materialized, but the most profound American political statement at the Olympics was made on the victory platform of the 200-meter championship, as American Gold medallist Tommie Smith and Bronze medallist John Carlos raised their fists before the world in the black power salute as the National Anthem played.

Avery Brundage’s dream of an Olympics without politics was dead. The world’s greatest sports event had become the focus of international politics.

The other unforgettable event was the greatest moment in Olympic history for a person from Queens. Jamaica High School’s Bob Beamon, the owner of one of the most memorable singular moments in Olympic history, uncorked an Olympic long jump of 29 feet, 2½ inches — almost 22 inches longer than any human had ever jumped. His Olympic record was the longest standing in history.

1972 Munich

Yes, there was Olga Kobut, the delightful little Russian who turned me onto gymnastics. And there was Mark Spitz, the American swimming sensation who won seven Golds. But the young Russian and the American swimming phenom’s triumphs were lost in the most tragic moments of Olympic history.

The kidnapping and murder of 11 Israeli athletes by Palestinian terrorists had overshadowed all else at the Munich games. Avery Brundage’s final games bore witness to the vilest of world political statements and his dream, and Germany’s attempt to make a post-war statement of Olympic ideals, died forever along with the Israeli athletes.

Sadly, the Munich Olmpics will always be known as the modern world’s introduction to international terrorism – a disease that flourishes today.

1976 Montreal

The People’s Republic of China leveraged their size and growing strength and was able to deny Taiwan the name “Republic of China” at the 1976 games, forcing the smaller China not to participate.

A young Romanian, Nadia Comaneci, forever changed the face of women’s gymnastics with her stunning perfect-10 performances — a score no gymnast had ever before received.

Terror struck the Munich Olympics in 1972. Palestinian terrorist at the Olympic dormitory holding the Israeli athletes hostage.