The tragedy of AIDS keeps lurching out, goading us into paying attention.
It doesn't need Barbara Walters to deliver its unhappy news. But I suppose Greg Louganis had his reasons.
Judging from the TV excerpts already released, this will not be an easy confession to watch. Louganis' tale digs deeply into his past, from his thoughts of suicide at a young age through his four Olympic gold medals, to his admission of homosexuality to the discovery that he has AIDS.
It makes for good television, I suppose. And -- well, what do you know? -- Louganis has a book, "Breaking the Surface," due to hit the stores Monday.
But it's his life. And if his nationally televised admission smacks of inappropriateness or commercialism in any way, let me suggest that Greg Louganis, of all people, deserves some compassion.
XTC As a competitor, he was a class act. He seemed humble to a fault.
My scribbled notes from the 1988 day in Seoul, South Korea, when he won his fourth Olympic gold medal remind me that Louganis spent most of the post-event interview praising a 14-year-old Chinese runner-up named Xiong Ni.
Louganis was the greatest diver ever, and yet his Olympic exploits were always getting upstaged by blowhards like Ben Johnson and Bobby Knight.
I first saw Louganis at the Montreal Olympics in 1976, when he was a quiet, silver-medal-winning teen-ager. By 1984, he was a ++ young man of 24 and already ensconced at the top of the diving world.
Standing at the top of the 10-meter board, there is no telling how many Speedo swimsuits Louganis helped sell. Legions of squealing female fans seemed to adore him. He was a true Olympic heartthrob.
But one year after the Los Angeles Games, I remember talking to a media friend who covered swimming and diving. "You know, of course, that Greg is gay," she blurted out with a measure of certainty.
Later, I found myself thinking how tennis star Martina Navratilova was excoriated for her sexuality. Louganis has been allowed to live his private life in apparent peace.
As former diver Wendy Williams told the Associated Press on Wednesday, "I have nothing but respect and admiration for him. He took the sport to a new level."
The diving community always speaks of Louganis in terms reserved for a Michael Jordan or a Joe DiMaggio. His sexuality wasn't a public issue. At the Seoul Olympics, his manager, Jim Babbitt, was talking about Louganis auditioning for the starring role in a remake of "Tarzan." A national company already had featured Louganis, dressed in loin cloth and perched in a tree, in its magazine ads.
Looking back, I remember being struck by the emotional scene that followed Louganis' final dive in Seoul, the one that clinched the fourth gold medal. He broke down, sobbing on the shoulder of his coach, Ron O'Brien, and I recall thinking how odd it seemed -- a four-time Olympic champion being so moved.
"This has been a rough two weeks," Louganis said. "I've been hard on myself -- hitting my head, doing a lot of crazy stuff."
Little did we know, of course.
It seems recklessly selfish of Louganis that he didn't inform the doctor who stitched his head that he was HIV-positive. The issue of bleeding in the Olympic pool already has been roundly dismissed by doctors and disease-control experts. But the idea of a doctor with a needle around a bleeding HIV-positive patient should have scared Louganis and those who knew (O'Brien, to name one) to act more responsibly.
Dr. James Puffer, though, was the physician who closed Louganis' head wound in 1988. And his calm words Wednesday show no traces of being upset.
It was hard to get upset with Greg Louganis, as it still is. He is paying a tragic price.
He gave us some golden Olympic moments to remember him by. In return, we gave him his privacy, and it's a consoling thought.