What we learned in Beijing

Michael Phelps became Mr. Olympics. Usain Bolt became Superman 2. Kobe proved he's the real King.

But more than anything, this Olympics in this nation of oppression was about Todd Bachman.

China cleaned up its capital, spat-shined itself in its Sunday best and opened its doors. But it still wasn't pretty, and it still wasn't open.

Phelps swam to eight gold medals and now has 14, total, and broke both records that Mark Spitz once held.

Bolt has only himself to fear in the blue-ribbon sprints, and, at 22, his reign should be long.

Kobe, not LeBron, is the world's most-loved hoops player; globally, Phelps and Bolt might be hot enough to be part of Kobe's posse.

Before any of it, on Day 1 of the Games, a millionaire from America's heartland was stabbed to death at lunchtime in the site of Beijing's first timepiece. His wife was nearly murdered, too. His daughter, a former Olympic volleyball player, watched it. A local guide was injured.

It was if it never happened.

The public was not notified of the murder for 3½ hours.

Residents and business owners near the murder scene immediately were warned by police and "volunteers" to erase their memories and seal their lips.

With terror in their eyes, they forgot, and shut up.

That's what this country is about. Here, the government, not the people, controls what you say, what you read, what you do and how many babies you can have (one).

This should be a clear lesson to any American who willingly surrenders any freedom in the name of anything.

There were many stories to follow here in Beijing.

And, more than anything, Todd Bachman.

Dead.

"I fear this will make Americans think Chinese are bad," one thoughtful young Chinese said.

Hopefully, it will not make Americans think the Chinese are bad.

Hopefully, it will make Americans better appreciate their rights and freedoms.