There was the pomp and ceremony.

The highfalutin talk of the world going huggy-buggy, joining hands and celebrating in good cheer and hearty embrace and, as it turned out for those so inclined, with stout brew in hand and flowing liquor down the pipes for 17 frozen days in Salt Lake City.

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There was the credo of Lord What’s-His-Name about it being better to have given it all and honorably competed, to have sipped from the cup of the spirit of the Games, than to have won a medal.

There were the parties, the energy, the sight of a sleepy town suddenly coming to life at all hours of day and night, all as people from around the globe visited, and looked on and in via television cameras. At least the part of the globe interested in frigid endeavors, on account of being buried for long stretches of the year in snow and ice.

The 2002 Olympic Winter Games, noted here now on their 10th anniversary, were a memorable trip for those of us in the state of Utah.

They did more than launch Mitt Romney’s presidential run and improve our freeway system and remind everybody that Jon Bon Jovi’s best days were behind him. They showcased something bigger and better than the scope and beauty of the Wasatch Range and the dastardly deeds of a corrupt French figure skating judge, whose name has faded from our minds. Was it Marie Reine Le Gougne or Cruella de Ville?

They captured our attention and our imagination.

They made Rice-Eccles Stadium — where the opening and closing ceremonies started and ended the extravaganza and where the Olympic flame burned throughout — the center of the sports universe.

And they went well beyond being cold. They were, both culturally and athletically, well … cool, despite the sorry fact that everyone around here decided it was fashionable to wear a beret the whole time.

Even as entrances to every venue, from bobsled to alpine skiing to hockey, looked like the no man’s land between North and South Korea, heavily fortified in the wake of 9/11 with security guards checking every coat pocket, every handbag and every body orifice, the Games took on a friendly, comfortable aura. That was due, in large measure, to the thousands of local volunteers who made the signature of Salt Lake’s Olympics a genial wave and a warm smile.

But most memorable were the athletes, famous and obscure, and their performances, from Apolo Anton Ohno pumping away on the short track to Michelle Kwan gliding across the big sheet. How either of those skaters could do what he or she did on what essentially is a set of steak knives strapped to their boots is remarkable.

Remember 16-year-old Sarah Hughes dancing out from under a toadstool to win gold in women’s figure skating? Her response: "I didn’t think it was possible."

Remember Jim Shea, who won a gold medal in skeleton, sliding with a picture of his grandfather, Jack Shea, tucked inside his helmet? Jack also won the gold in speedskating decades earlier, and served as an inspiration to his grandson, having died in a car accident a month earlier. Said Jim: "I felt him here today. He had some unfinished business before he went to heaven. Now, I think he can go."

Remember Chris Klug, a snowboarder who had received a transplanted liver two years before the Games and went on to win a bronze in men’s parallel giant slalom on Feb. 15, which happened to be National Organ Donor Awareness Day?

Remember all those lugers in the back half of the draw, none of whom had any chance to win a medal, most of whom looked like your auto mechanic or the guy who delivered and installed your new refrigerator? Yeah, they were there to compete and sip the spirit, not to win.

Remember speedskater Chris Witty, a terrific talent who was dedicated to her sport, having put in thousands of hours of work on the big oval for a chance to win the women’s 1,000 meters? Not only did she win the event, but she also broke the world record — despite having been knocked off her skates just three weeks before the start of the Games by a wicked case of mononucleosis.

Remember the dominant-but-crooked Nordic skiers, one from Spain, two from Russia, winning all those gold and silver medals and, then, getting busted for using performance-enhancers, having those medals stripped away, and getting the heave-ho from the Games?