Sports strike out in shameless attempt to lure me in

Traditionally, sports stories are printed in the sports section.The stories contain winsome nicknames, and are accompanied by photosof contorted bodies. A large part of the reading experience seems tobe acting outraged about the stories for one reason or another.That's when sports fans start calling each other names.

Not nicknames.

Bad names.

I don't pretend to understand it, but to each his own. As long assports stories stay on the back page -- where they belong -- I willkeep my thoughts to myself.

But lately, sports have refused to be confined to the stadiums.They're sneaking onto our news pages, where a conscientious sportsobjector can't help but notice them.

News item: The NFL has redesigned the uniforms for its referees,with a "flashier" look that will "flare" at the upper arms andcomplement the "traditional white knickers." It's an improvement, anNFL spokesman noted, over the bow ties and beanies that referees worein the '30s.

News item: The pro baseball slump in Japan has organizers soconcerned that they are selling ticket packages that feature KentuckyFried Chicken and all-you-can-drink beer.

News item: The coach of a champion sprinter has accused a vengefulmassage therapist of spiking the athlete's massage cream withtestosterone -- giving Tour de France winner Floyd Landis all sortsof ideas.

Fashion, fried chicken, massage cream. You see what they're doing,don't you? You know what's going on?

They're trying to get me to watch.

And I won't do it.

CRAVING ATTENTION

It's not that I think everything is about me -- but in this case,there's just no other explanation. The sports world is gettingawfully desperate for attention, and I'm the last holdout. They'll doanything to get my time and money.

My God, they're breeding soccer players with Spice Girls. Havethey no shame?

I'm not sure why I fight it so vigilantly. Sports should be anatural for me. The definition of spectator is "one who sits, looks,taunts and purchases salty foodstuffs." If I may borrow a sportsterm, this should be a slam drunk.

SO MUCH DISCOMFORT

But I think it was around '83, when I found myself gettingsincerely ecstatic over a Martina Navratilova foot fault, that Ithought, "This isn't right." In no time, I'd replaced sports withBobbsey Twins mysteries.

I still like to play sports, in moderation. But I refuse to watch.

The entire concept of sports seems to be built on discomfort. Theseats are uncomfortable, the conversations I overhear make meuncomfortable, the weather is uncomfortable, the wait in line for thebathrooms is uncomfortable, the announcers' shouting isuncomfortable.

And don't tell me that running head-on into a defensive end, orgetting body-checked into the boards, is anything but extremelyuncomfortable.

There was one glimmer of hope for me, something I could reallyenjoy: The Lingerie Bowl. It seemed like such a great idea to me.Nimble feats of athleticism, plus shopping! Who couldn't use a newlace bustier now and then?

BAD CALLS

Imagine my disappointment when I found that the Lingerie Bowl wasmore about the exploitation of women than the new season of demi-cupstyles.

And the referee calls were horrendous.

These latest bids for sports attention in the news pages arepathetic, really. I am not interested. I will watch nail polish dry,grass grow, all seven seasons of "Big Brother" and a Mel Gibsonminiseries in Pig Latin.

But I don't care if the White Sox finally win the World Series --I will not watch sports.

Unless they bring back the beanie hats.