Dear Jacques Rogge,
What a Games! From the beauty of Vancouver and Whistler to the tragic death of Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili, it was an amazing two weeks of winter sports.
As someone who feels a bit sloppy most of the time, I enjoyed watching you throughout the Opening and Closing Ceremonies. You're so put together and classy--the way you carry yourself, the way you speak...I mean, I'm sure you think your behavior is typical for a count, but me? Let's just say I've learned a lot from you.
I'm dying to know though--and you can tell me--aren't you a little tired of people getting your name wrong? I was present when Chicago's Mayor Daley persisted in calling you "Jacques Ro-gay." And then John Furlong, who I would think would know better after working with you for several years, kept saying "Jacques Rug." Though he kind of bungled "au revoir" too.
I, of all people, understand. My own Polish name is butchered constantly (though I would imagine many Poles would cringe at the Americanization we've done to it). Still, you're a prominent figure. You're a rogue guy! Rogue Rogge! If we all can learn how to pronounce Schwarzenegger, we can surely get Rogge, no?
Let's hope the folks in London figure it out!