I always had this Olympics wish when it came to professionals being part of the competition: When the Dream Team rolled into and through Barcelona in 1992, when it won eight basketball games by an average score of 117-74, when those poor saps from Angola were through posing for pictures and asking for autographs from the players who had just pasted them 116-48, it would have been the opportune time for America to expand its chest and return the moment to its amateurs.
