Jacques Rogge, the King of the Olympics, has been trying to make the Games more manageable, and with that in mind, the folks who run international baseball and softball are on their knees begging for mercy.

Meanwhile, we still have rhythmic gymnastics, synchronized swimming, trampoline and several other rampant idiocies safe for Olympics to come.

	How does figure skating rate as an Olympic sport when there are flowers and kissing involved?

So, while the meetings are continuing to see whether the softball and baseball lobbies have any heat with the International Olympic Committee, let's take a moment.

No, really. Jacques, babe. Come sit. Let's chat.

You want the Olympics smaller? Fine. We're down with that. But with so much fat on the bone, what's a ball game more or less?

Hell, start with the parade. I mean, watching Bob Costas struggle through his index cards for something piquant to say about Uzbekistan is sufficiently painful that hurrying the athletes along is a grand start right there.

But the Salt Lake City Passion Play was, for your purposes there Jackie old shoe, drive-off-the-road painful. And yes, we know a lot of people put in a lot of work and blah-de-blah-de-blah, but if you want the Olympics to look a little less like the Emmys, then get after it, my man.

Same goes for the closing ceremonies. This isn't dinner theatre, for God's sake, it's athletes saying goodbye to each other after three weeks in little tiny rooms. Throw a few kegs in the infield at the track stadium, and let 'em say goodbye. It's good TV, and you don't have to book 3,500 dancers and buy 7,000 costumes. You'd save thousands, I tell you, thousands.

And now, let's talk sports. While it would make the most sense to eliminate sports with, say, recent ties to Russian mob figures, we know that for reasons best left to Oprah, figure skating and all its hideous permutations are very popular with a significant segment of your target audience.

You know. People with money.

Still, some sports are stupider than others. The ice dancing is positively ridiculous, and you know it. So is rhythmic gymnastics. And synchronized swimming is an abomination, unless you know of a pro synchronized swimming league somewhere.

Indeed, the rule ought to be that if the sport is judged, it should be judged too inherently dishonest to be branded Olympic. But Jacques, buddy, we know you have only so much wiggle room here. Gotta keep the circus tents full, and all that.

	Come on. Curling? How'd this ever become an Olympic sport? They play this in beer leagues.

But you want the Olympics smaller, Jackie, and you gotta start somewhere.

Or, maybe, somewhere else. I got another idea for you.

How about the office?

No, really. How about all the folks in the blazers who get in the way of every athlete, of every camera shot, of most of the graft lines? Do you really need the population of Estonia as a work force? I mean, every Olympics looks like State Farm Insurance is starting to clone claims adjusters, and there is no possible way they are all needed.

So what if you thinned out the room around the gravy troughs? What if you asked the smart blazers to do a little extra so you could clear the organizational chart of a few thousand extraneous blazers?

Come on, Jacques, you know we're right here. Your job is not more important because of the number of elves. If the Olympics is important, it's important enough to do right. You want a trimmer, slimmer Olympics, you gotta do it right, and you gotta do it thorough.

So you whack the dancers and the legion of pan flutes. You smoke about a quarter to a half of the self-important layabouts who get badges for the show every four years. You cut out the unnecessary show biz, and if you really get ambitious, you can also croak synchronized swimming. PLEASE do that one, at least.

And then you can save softball AND baseball, or croak them, too, whatever. Just do this in the right order, and we can all go about the rest of our lives, confident that you're the right guy for the job.

So just remember the pecking order. Athletes. Coaches. Viewers. Blazers. Dancers. We know you'll do the right thing.

And we'll even spring for the beer at the closing ceremonies.

Ray Ratto is a columnist with the San Francisco Chronicle and a regular contributor to ESPN.com