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I never wanted to write this book.

About halfway through the 2008 Beijing Summer Olympic Games, I toyed with the idea of writing the true story of my experiences as the lone American in the senior management team of the Olympics in China and mentioned this to many of the international journalists there working covering the Games. Unanimously I was asked – no - begged to put pen to paper and let the world know what it was like to be the only American inside the Chinese Communist Government-orchestrated Olympic Games.

My reply at the time, “not a chance.”

However, as I moved on to work for two years as the Executive Advisor for The 16^th Asian Games in Guangzhou, the idea of sharing my Olympic experience in China remained in the frontal lobe of my skull … whispering to me “write, write, write”.

It took looming unemployment to be the catalyst.

After the 2010 Asian Games, I went to Doha to take a senior management position with the Local Organizing Committee of the AFC Asian Cup, finally returning to China in February 2011 and unemployment.

In a panic, I immediately called a good friend, Lisa Johnson, who lives in New York City. Lisa and I worked together during the 2000 Sydney Olympic Games and had stayed in touch ever since. Even in China where business is booming, Lisa was blunt, acknowledged my ego but realistically stated that “try as hard as you can, if you can’t manufacturer a job then don’t try.”

“You need to write the story”, said Lisa. I knew what she meant … that writing this book would keep my sanity from the endlessly torture of handing out resumes.

And so, with a collective sigh and great reluctance, I started to write.

One year later, this story is complete.

To all journalists who will leaf through the pages for that which is perceived scandalous or a criticism of the Chinese, you are looking in the wrong place. Likewise, to my hundreds of Chinese friends, from senior leaders in the Government to those steaming rice for a living, you will not find this work skewed to puffery.

There is 100% truth in everything written herein. Nothing has been held back.

It is my prayer that in reading this, you will be swept into a deeply personal experience; an adventure without road map or compass … deep into the Olympic world previously shrouded by mystery and magic.

If you are the President of the United States, Prime Minister of Great Britain and all parts in-between and seeking a primer on what it is like in China after you board your airplane and leave the PRC in your rear window - that is to say, specifically what happens behind closed doors that you and your diplomats are not and will never be privy to - then you should be taking notes and booking me for lunch in the Oval Office.

I’d like a spinach salad sans dressing … please.

Ego? Perhaps.

Realism is more to the point.

Just as Edgar Snow of the Saturday Evening Post wrote of his experiences in China during the Long March of the 1950s, this story needs to be told and so it shall.

Herein I have many people to thank, Chinese and foreigner alike (notwithstanding the stalwart Miss Johnson) but to list them all would take up another full chapter.

I thank all of you for your friendship.

Above all, I dedicate this book to my daughter, Danielle and thank her for still loving her father after leaving her and my life in America behind to come to China and be part of the greatest Olympics in history.

And now - aaaway we go …

Beijing, China

July, 2012