A SIDEWAYS GLANCE AT ATLANTA : FAMILIES THAT WATCH THE GAMES TOGETHER FEEL UNDER WEATHER.

Call it Sleepless in Atlanta.

The city hasn't been so bleary-eyed since the Braves kept everyone up late watching the World Series.

Olympic events, both the triumphs and the tragedies, are causing families to take root in front of their televisions. And when they're not watching the Olympics on TV, they're attending events. The Games are toppling family schedules and children's bedtimes.

``All the kids are staying up late,'' says Glenn Lake Camp counselor Amy Fischer, 27. ``They're sluggish in the morning and don't want to play games.''

They're also grumpier. Pity the car pool parents who face minivans full of sleep-deprived 6-year-olds.

``I'm about to buy earplugs,'' says Melissa Cash, 34, of Cobb County. ``By the time I get the kids to camp, I have a splitting headache from all their bickering.''

But the ill tempers and rushed mornings that come with the Olympics are worth it, say many parents.

Kathy Lee, 39, of Conyers has wolfed down her morning bagel in the car every day since the Games began so she could get to work on time. It takes several tries to rouse her sleeping household. Her 11-year-old fell asleep at piano lessons. Lee hasn't had an ounce of energy to exercise.

``But, hey, it's the Olympics and it's here and I don't want to miss it,'' says Lee.

When they're not attending competitions, the Monroe family of Decatur views them on TV. Marty Monroe, 42, turns the experience into a geography lesson for her three children, pointing out the athletes' homelands on an oversized world map.

An athletic bunch who often bike to Stone Mountain, the Monroes have integrated Games-watching into their routine. Ben, 14, and Tim, 13, sprawl on the couch, turning their attention from TV to Sports Illustrated's Olympic coverage. Eight-year-old Alex hangs in there with her big brothers through all the sports, but her heart belongs to gymnastics.

Laura Deming's 4-1/2-year-old son Nicholas never had much use for girls until he became an ardent Olympics-watcher.

``He fell in love with Dominique Moceanu,'' said Deming, 40. ``I'm hearing for the first time from him, `Girls are so cute.' ''

Malibu mode: True Games grit is sand

In its genesis, Olympic competition was pretty basic, mostly involving running from one point to another, jumping over things, or throwing stuff. Today? Pop culture has intruded, in the view of San Francisco Chronicle columnist Scott Ostler.

He wrote:

The Olympics are drifting steadily away from ancient Greece and toward ancient Malibu.

The IOC hasn't yet replaced the discus with a Frisbee, but when it comes to adding new sports, the rule of thumb is: Grunting and groaning are out, vamping and tanning are in.

Synchro swimming is pure West Coast, and the new sports this Olympics - beach volleyball, softball and mountain-biking - let's just say Juan Antonio Samaranch had to bleach his hair and learn to say, ``Duuude.''

But at least beach volleyball is close to Grecian roots. The ancient Games were contested in the nude, and in volleyball, the women - to pick one gender at random - wear just enough bits of stretchy miracle fiber to support their sponsor logos.

The venue here is freaky. There is no beach in Atlanta (Duh!) so they built one. You drive 45 minutes south of the city and meander through a dense pine forest until you come upon a frozen-margarita stand and 10,000 partially dressed fans sardined around two sand courts and happily sizzling in the sun like frying bacon.

The players are businesslike and tough, like superstar Kent Steffes, who has a tattoo that says ``Anger is a gift.''

Listen, you'd have anger too if you had to go to work every day in nothing but your boxer shorts and sunglasses.

That anger aside, the athletes here are thrilled to be in the Olympics.

``I'm out of body, looking at all this from the outside, just relishing every bit of it,'' says beach legend Mike Dodd.

Wilkins, Wilkens - just call him coach

At the news conference following a recent Dream Team victory, coach Lenny Wilkens was asked why the U.S. players didn't have gifts to give the opponents as is customary during the pregame handshake.

``It was a foul-up on somebody's part and the (opposing) players will receive their gifts. It was a foul-up, they happen,'' Wilkens said. ``Like this.''

He lifted his nameplate at the podium.

``I have been coaching in this city for three years and I'd like to say my name is spelled W-I-L-K-E-N-S,'' he said.

The card read ``Lenny Wilkins.''

VOICES

``Maybe they're smoking something. I thought it was nuts when a few guys declined to play for various countries. And now that I've been here and had a chance to experience it, I know they're nuts. I mean, this isn't an opportunity that comes around all the time.''

- U.S. tennis player MaliVai Washington, perplexed over the number of pros who passed up playing in the Olympics

``It was like fighting myself.''

- American boxer Terrance Cauthen on the novelty of facing a fellow southpaw, Tumentsetsec Ultumen of Mongolia.

``This team parties more.''

- Basketball player Charles Barkley on the difference between Dream Team III and the original

``The Olympic organizers are asking all residents of North or South America to please look out your window immediately. If you see an Olympic shuttle bus, please call the Olympic Transportation Hotline at 1-800-CLUELESS. Thank you.''

- Miami Herald columnist Dave Barry

``Correction. I was in the generation where girls were not allowed to play baseball - unless I cut my hair and called myself Bob.''

- Softball player Dot Richardson of Sherman Oaks, when a reporter assumed all the U.S. players had participated in Little League

High-speed vehicle was Bailey's body

If Canadian Donovan Bailey had run his gold-medal winning 100 meters through an Atlanta school zone Saturday, he might have been pulled over by police and ticketed.

Bailey was clocked at a peak speed of 27.1 mph en route to his 9.84-second world record.

The speed limit through most school areas is 25 mph.

E-mail from Atlanta It's easy to detect holes in upgraded security

Security is tight. Mostly tight.

Walk through a metal detector at stadium. Man in straw pith helmet examines my bag. Takes out all my papers. Digs around. Hey, watch that! Makes me turn on my computer. Yes, it's my computer. Don't you recognize my writing style?

Woman goes through my other bag. Takes out cell phone. Makes me turn it on. Makes me make a call. Sorry, don't have roaming. Have to wait till somebody calls me.

Finally walk through. Passed the test.

Go toward the stadium. Woman stops me. ``Did somebody check your bag?'' I nod yes. She says, ``O.K.!''

Whew! Can't put much past her!

Walk through a checkpoint. Flash my credential. Officer nods. Walk through another one. No one there.

Go into building. No metal detector. Sit down and work.

Go outside. Look around. Plenty of men in uniform. Lots of barricades along streets. High chain-link fences. Many stern warnings on signs.

Feel safe. Sort of.

Go to Main Press Center. Egad! Man at X-ray machine is leaning his head against machine. He's tired. Puts my bags through. He nods and looks away. Other guards smile.

Wonder what else they could really do. Lots of manpower, but task is overwhelming. Some people sharp, some people . . . well . . . not so sharp.

Decide to travel lighter. Less stuff, less scrutiny.

Can't wait to see what airport is like.

Is it safe?

Cyberscribe

CAPTION(S):

3 Photos

Photo: (1) ``Track has put a lot of hurt in my heart and I don't want that, because it's such a small part of my life. I'm not going to let it run my life like I have in the past.''

GWEN TORRENCE

trying to keep things in perspective after losing to Gail Devers in the 100 meters

(2) no caption (Donovan Bailey)

(3) no caption (man sleeping in stands)