It is a decidedly contrarian point of view at this particular time and that is, of course, one of the reasons I cling to it. As the Games of Athens 2004 approach–about five months away now–the world seems increasingly concerned, perhaps even convinced, that the Greeks will fall short in their Olympic effort.

Believe me, it would be far easier to bury Athens. All the requisite materials sit conspicuously out in the open. At virtually every Olympic venue, even along some downtown streets, there are gigantic mountains of dirt and rubble that give the historic city the unhappy flavor of one gigantic urban dump. And there is an army of cranes, tractors and flatbed trucks, all at the ready but not all in use.

Somehow Athens, having had seven years to prepare for the 2004 Olympics, has backed itself up against a steep wall of time. The venues aren’t all finished, all the trains aren’t yet running and there’s an endless list of tasks and embellishments required to bring the vast Olympic complex up to standard. It feels very slightly strange and ominous when your tour guides show off the tae kwon do arena and the equestrian complex, but won’t let you check out more critical venues like the Olympic stadium and the aquatic-center swimming pool.

The International Olympic Committee, which long ago relinquished its escape hatch of Sydney or other more efficient shores, now has no choice but to declare total faith in Athens. Still, there is something to be said for the line taken by IOC vice president Kevan Gosper, amid platters of sardines, calamari, silver snapper and ample white wine at an Athens seaside restaurant. “Don’t just see how much work there is to be done,” he coaxed. “Remember how much has already been done.”

As you tour the rebuilt Karaiskaki stadium that will be the home to the Greek soccer power, Olympiakos, following the Games, it helps to recall that nine months ago this huge football palace was just a hole in the ground. Same with so many other Olympics venues. When you inquire about unfinished work, the locals look almost puzzled and ask whether you were here in Athens in June, the last time the press was accorded such access. Then they just shrug, indicating if you had been here back then, you wouldn’t ask such foolish questions. You would know exactly how much has been accomplished since them.

Though there are not another nine months left in which to wow us, the Greeks boast this strange, mystical faith that somehow, in some not easily articulated fashion–“Greek magic,” one local termed it–they will pull things together and salvage everything with a last-minute rescue mission. “We will work 24 hours a day if we have to,” one volunteer told me. “And if that’s not enough, we will work 25 or 26 or whatever it takes to get the job done.”

Frankly, I am not sure what evidence there is that Greek magic has existed, at least in modernity. The Greeks are a proud people, rightfully boastful of one of civilization’s greatest cultures. But they do seem to be resting a bit on their laurels. Even if Aristotelian wisdom is the be-all and end-all, there isn’t a scintilla of philosophy in his great “Politics” that speaks to the laying down of train rails or the putting up of stadium roofs.

Aristotle might have been far more useful, though, in discussing the question of what it means to be ready. Because in semantics may lie the solution for the Athens Games. There is much resentment here of the Olympic model the Greeks have inherited, one in which the superficial trumps historic values. The Greeks seem to be saying, “We gave you this treasure, and this is what you returned to us 108 years later?”

The Greeks much prefer to extol the virtues of history, culture and noble competition than the glitter of some Spanish architect’s roof. And they seem prepared to declare the Games ready whatever state they are actually in come Aug. 13. A couple of young Greek Olympic volunteers, Marianna and Chrisantha, help explained this concept to me. “Perfection has nothing to do with everything [being] in perfect order,” one of the young ladies insisted. “We are Greeks so whatever our Olympics is will be by definition perfect.”

After much wine and glass-clinking and shouts of “yammas,” this actually began to make some sense. Welcome to the Games of Athens 2004: Perfectly Themselves.