When comparing Australia to the United States, I have usually regarded Australia as the more wonderful country. I have always appreciated the fact that Australia's accent is far superior, its girls are - on the whole - much cuter, its cities much safer, its national anthem much shorter, its animals more beautiful, and its aura much more relaxed.

However, for a number of reasons, I have always sub-consciously regarded American sport as being superior. They dominate the world in so many sports, I thought. The NBA, NFL, NHL, and MLB are the world's greatest local sporting leagues, I thought. They produce the best spectacles, I thought. We should aspire to be like them, I thought. They have so much more money, I knew, so they must be better, I thought.

Which is why my overwhelming feeling that night was one of surprise, and one that has taken over a month to digest. That night, in a major paradigmatic shift in the world of Sundries, a phenomenal realisation was attained: the Dream Team aren't that great. And, in addition, some of them are genuine dickheads.

It was amazing to watch America play basketball and realise that they did not look anywhere near as dominat against world-class opposition as the Australian rugby league team. And neither did they look as 'professional' - in the Australian sense. No, most of the Americans looked professional in the American sense: big, tough, brash wankers more concerned about their personal entourages and player movements back in the NBA than all their country's fellow athletes in the Olympic Village. To those whom did not exude this aura - Jason Kidd and Ray Allen in particular - I apologise for this horrid generalisation. Unfortunately, however, you are destined to be brought down in conversation to the level of Carter, Mourning, and co. for eternity.

Having had time to adjust to this new view of American sport, I have come to appreciate it more as entertainment rather than competition. I was extremely entertained by the World Series, however I knew that 75 per cent of the teams were not wealthy enough to challenge for the title. It was entertaining, but Major League Baseball is as much a financial competition as a sporting one.

I plan to be extremely entertained by this season's NBA competition, although I am sure that I won't appreciate the sport itself as much as I appreciate international or Australian basketball. Sometimes the NBA rules just make us basketball purists cringe.

Finally, I plan to be extremely entertained by the NFL and NHL this season, however I am even beginning to lose patience with the extreme amount of player and franchise movement in both these sports. How can one follow players who seemingly have no connection with or loyalty to their team, and who are just as likely to be playing for their arch-rivals next week?

I am proud that Australian sport still involves clubs, not franchises. Even if media moguls attempt to benefit from our sports, the general public can still afford to attend matches in which most players have some feelings of pride for their club. I am proud that my team may win the competition in the next few years without having to sell half of their city in order to pay their athletes. And I'm proud my team is not filled with brazen young men who think they are God's gift, even though an injury-depleted Lithuania almost beat them.

So I plead with you, my fellow Australians, to remember when you watch every highlight reel this summer, that after the Olympic basketball semi-final in which the US defeated Lithuania by 2 points, Vince Carter pointed to the scoreboard in order to remind the world of just how great he thinks he is. I plead with you, whenever you see his aerial manoeuvres, to remember the crowd from Rod Laver Arena and join them in shouting "Carter's a wanker!"

Be proud, Australia - there aren't many countries who would have been as honest as we were.