The first true social-media Summer Olympics came to a bombastic close Sunday night, and McKayla Maroney was not impressed.

But she should have been.

In case you aren’t tuned in with the Internet, the American gymnast missed out on the gold medal in the individual vault competition, after she slipped on the landing pad and fell squarely on her backside. Maroney almost got gold anyway because her attempt was very difficult and had a higher starting score.

In the medal presentation, Maroney had a scowl on her face as she accepted the silver medal. The image was captured by someone with too much time on their hands, and instantly became an Internet “meme” — a fad that has a life span slightly shorter than a 32-ounce steak in front of a typical SEC offensive lineman. Just Google “Maroney not impressed” and you’ll see what I mean.

In an Olympic games that began with Queen Elizabeth II parachuting out of an airplane with James Bond (well, someone looking a lot like her), the Maroney viral craze was somehow fitting. It seemed that the medal count was somehow secondary to the number of tweets.

Never mind that Michael Phelps became the winningest Olympian of all time.

Never mind that Jamaica’s Usain Bolt cemented his place in history as the fastest human of them all.

Forget The Dream Team II, which pretty much made short work out of all comers until it reached the gold medal game with Spain — a team with three NBA All-Stars of its own.

And never mind the USA women who dominated their sports, such as soccer (making amends for the World Cup loss to Japan), basketball (fifth straight gold), and gymnastics, just to name a few.

All that seemed to matter were the tweets, and Instagram photos, and Facebook posts. Every facet of these games was instantly scrutinized by the masses — even those who couldn’t get over the masterful performance by Gabby Douglas, who won the individual all-around gold in gymnastics. Instead, the Twitterverse focused on her seemingly-unkempt hair. I’m sorry, but I just don’t get it — I’m a guy.

Despite that, Douglas’ engaging smile will grace many a cereal box — not Wheaties, mind you, but Kellogg’s Corn Flakes — for the next few months. Her grin was made just for television. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s your next Mary Lou Retton.

So now we say goodbye to merry old England, and its geriatric Spice Girls reunion — some plastic surgeons made quite a few pounds sterling getting those old girls ready for high definition television — archery at cricket grounds, women’s boxing, volleyball in the sand at some place called Horse Guards Parade, and NBC prime time shows that were very long on smaltzy feature pieces and short on actual competition. (Honestly, you could sum up Bob Costas’ late-night gig with five names: Bolt, Douglas, Phelps, Misty May-Treanor and Kerri Walsh.)

And it won’t bother me one bit to have to wait two more years to hear “Bugler’s Dream,” the trumpet fanfare played incessantly during the games. I can wait until the Winter Games in 2014.

By then, I’ll be ready for curling.