Sports columnist Mark Purdy would probably win the Most Valuable Player award in any hot-stove league. He stokes enough fires to last through an Arctic winter with his humorously opinionated views on sports issues, which were issued in mid-2001. These are among the issues he pontificates on in this question-and-answer series: Are athletes overpaid? Why are there so many home runs in baseball in recent years? Will there ever be a playoff series in college football? Are Japanese baseball players becoming the equals of Americans? What is the most popular spectator sport? And that perennially nagging question, Why haven’t the Cubs gone to a World Series since 1945?

Questions and Answers About Sports

Q: Why are there so many altercations at youth sporting events these days?

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A: What do you mean by altercations? My kid was cheated, so I yelled at the umpire, okay? You got a problem with that? How’d you like to see me in the parking lot, idiot?

Whew. Yes, it really is bad out there, as any parent knows. One reason is that there are so many more kids playing organized sports these days—more than 30 million according to most estimates. The days of sandlot baseball are long gone, replaced by tightly structured competition supervised by coaches and parents who all seem to believe their kids are going to become the next $15 million-a-year shortstop. There’s also the perception that cratefuls of college scholarship money are just sitting around, waiting to be claimed by boys and girls when they graduate from high school.

The truth: Most kids just want to play sports to have fun, and the odds against them playing even small-college sports are enormous. The scholarship glut is a myth as well. For example, many parents are stunned to learn that even at the top schools the best female college soccer players don’t get full rides—and must earn the money they do receive with good performances every season because the scholarships are renewable annually.

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In light of all this, it’s amazing that so many parents insist on hiring personal instructors for their children before they are even ten years old, or that parents scream at referees or curse at coaches when their kids get pulled for a pinch hitter in a Little League game against Fleck’s Pool Hall. But it happens, perhaps because of the modeling by certain college coaches (hello, Bob Knight) and pro athletes (hello, Marcus Camby and Marty McSorley). The National Association of Sports Officials now offers “assault insurance” for its 19,000 members.

Some people are trying to fight the tide. The Positive Coaching Alliance (PCA), founded at Stanford University in 1998, is attempting to bring some sanity to youth sports in California and elsewhere. The PCA conducts workshops for coaches and parents involved in youth sports—often, they are one and the same—training them how to boost morale of young athletes without sacrificing a competitive edge.

“The problem isn’t winning, it isn’t competition, it isn’t trying to win,” says Jim Thompson, founder of the PCA. “But when you’re trying to win at all costs, it all goes out the window.”

Q: What is the most popular spectator sport in the United States?

A: In one sense, there's no real answer to this question, because no one keeps track of all sports events from sea to shining sea. In terms of numbers, on any given weekend it's possible there are more people watching youth soccer than any other sport in the United States—but that's a function of loyal parenthood, not demand. We all know soccer isn't the most popular spectator sport in the United States.

What about auto racing? The single events on the annual American sports calendar that have the largest attendance take place in Indianapolis and Daytona. But that's because speedways are huge and can hold more people than the average baseball stadium or basketball arena—and because the Indy 500 and Daytona 500 only happen once a year. If there were a race at Indy every week, far fewer than 300,000 people would show up.

So let's go with the gut evidence. Fifty years ago, baseball conversation may have been the background noise for America. But not anymore. It's football, a sport that has translated almost perfectly to television, with a rectangular field just like the TV screen and pauses every 30 seconds for fans to argue about what just happened and what should happen next. People watch it, plan weekends around it, and talk about it during the week. No other game draws as many nonfamily spectators on a consistent basis at the high school, college, and professional levels. Also, with house parties on every block, Super Bowl Sunday has become an unofficial national holiday. World Series Wednesday has not. Case closed.

Q: What does baseball’s “antitrust exemption” mean, and do other sports have anything like it?

A: In 1958, when baseball was more popular than any other game in America, the major league owners did a very smart thing. They lobbied and pushed through Congress a bill that exempted the sport from obeying most elements of the Sherman Antitrust Act. The owners claimed that baseball’s structure as an entity of competing owners made it different from most other businesses. Unlike other businesses, baseball needed to regulate things such as player movement, the rights of teams to certain geographic areas, and the regulation of radio and television coverage. The hearings in Washington, D.C., were more entertaining than thoughtful, with star players such as Mickey Mantle testifying.

But the end result was that ever since, baseball has enjoyed more control over its sport than any other professional league. For example, no other sport has the same control over franchise movement. That’s why National Football League (NFL) and National Hockey League (NHL) teams switch cities right and left, while relocation happens very seldom in baseball. And while players have won certain rights over the years regarding free agency, the owners hold onto their exemption as if it were life-giving oxygen. Without it, their bargaining position in almost every area would be weaker.

Q: Are professional athletes overpaid?

A: Overpaid according to who? The people who sign the checks? And who are they?

Sports owners, that’s who. And since they’re the ones who must either turn a bottom-line profit or swallow red ink by the barrel, you have to figure they don’t make the decision about whether to shell out millions of dollars lightly. That’s why, at least on the day he signs his deal, no athlete can truly be called overpaid. He’s only getting what someone else thinks he’s worth. Otherwise, the money wouldn’t be there.

It’s only after the athlete begins to actually play—and perform on a subpar basis—that the 'overpaid' tag arises. Even then, you can argue the term. In December 1998, the Los Angeles Dodgers decided to give pitcher Kevin Brown a contract that broke the $15 million-a-year barrier. They haven’t come close to making the playoffs the past two seasons. But the Dodgers have drawn more than two million customers each year and made money off their television broadcasts. So is Brown 'overpaid' or not?

A movie producer who pays Tom Hanks $10 million to make a movie knows that a certain number of people will pay to see the movie just because Hanks’s name is above the title. The same goes for certain athletes. Tiger Woods earns every dollar he makes, because virtually every spectator who shows up at a golf event and every viewer who tunes in does so to see him.

But does anyone buy a ticket to specifically see Murray Baron? He’s a defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks of the National Hockey League. Baron is a decent player, not a spectacular one. But his salary for the 2000-01 season was $2 million. Maybe if the Canucks win the Stanley Cup, he’ll be worth that much. But otherwise, how can he be? The late Bill Veeck, the shrewdest major league baseball owner ever, once noted that the high price of stars wasn’t killing baseball. “It’s the high price of mediocrity,” Veeck said.

No wiser or truer words have been spoken, no matter what the sport.

Q: Why does baseball have a designated hitter rule in the American League but not in the National League?

A: In the early 1970s, with the New York Yankees dynasty in a lull and pitchers dominating baseball, the sport's attendance began to dwindle, especially in the American League (AL). In response, the AL owners decided to create a new position called the designated hitter, a player who would bat in place of the pitcher and not play in the field. It was actually the revival of an idea that had originally been proposed by the National League (NL) some 50 years earlier.

This time around, NL owners disdained the proposal, calling the rule a gimmick. So a compromise was reached: The designated hitter (DH) would be used on an experimental basis in the American League only. The first plate appearance by a designated hitter was made by Ron Blomberg of the Yankees on April 6, 1973, against the Boston Red Sox. He drew a walk.

Other designated hitters brought the position more popularity, as it extended the careers of aging sluggers such as Hank Aaron. When the DH came up for review several years later, the AL owners wanted to keep the experiment going, but the NL owners refused to adopt it. They still haven't, and the split endures today.

Q: Why are home run totals in Major League Baseball increasing while batting averages remain pretty much the same?

A: It's not just one reason; many factors are behind baseball’s power surge. Pitching is indeed weaker than it used to be. Baseball players keep themselves in better shape than they once did (hidden beneath those baggy uniforms 50 years ago was a lot of saggy flesh). Many of the newer ballparks are built to produce more home runs (for example, Houston’s Enron Field). While the ball may not be 'juiced' per se, the production process today does produce more consistently uniform balls and they are uniformly wound tight for maximum distance.

However, in my opinion, there are two primary reasons for the home run explosion of the last five years:

(1) Athletes aren't stupid, at least not about money. They see that the best-paid baseball players are those who hit the most home runs. This has been true since the days of Babe Ruth, of course, but 30 years ago the difference in salary between a good singles hitter and a slugger used to be maybe $30,000 to $50,000. Now, it's more like $3 million to $5 million. So from high school ball onward, more batters are aiming for the fences and developing their swings for power. If Ty Cobb were around today, would he be satisfied with 118 career home runs? No way.

(2) Steroids. Don't discount any of the stories about the use of steroids in baseball. Those of us who have been in locker rooms for the last 25 years can tell you that players with their shirts off look far more buffed and muscular now than in the past. Some of that muscle is achieved naturally. But since baseball (so far) doesn't test for steroids, we'd be naive to think that no players are using them. Home run king Mark McGwire's use of the “food supplement' androstenedione was legal, but the substance is full of steroid derivatives. (McGwire says he's now quit taking it.) Some players will tell you off the record that as many as half the players in the major leagues have tried or are still using some sort of anabolic steroids. This level of usage has to create more home runs. When we see backup shortstops launching long balls to the opposite field, that should set off an alarm somewhere.

Q: What is the biggest cause of payroll disparity among Major League Baseball franchises?

A: Think television sets, millions and millions of them. The New York City metropolitan area leads the country in this particular statistic. More significantly, the region has millions more baseball fans owning those millions of TV sets. This is why the New York teams can have a much more generous salary scale than other major league teams.

The National Football League (NFL), by contrast, is more socialistic. It divides all television revenue equally among the NFL's 31 franchises, enabling Green Bay to pay—or overpay—its players as much as teams in larger markets such as Chicago or Philadelphia. Major League Baseball shares only national television revenue. Local broadcast revenue, both TV and radio, goes directly to each individual team.

This creates huge inequities in baseball. According to a March 2000 survey, the New York Yankees receive about $50 million annually in local broadcast money. The Cincinnati Reds, a proud franchise with a great baseball tradition, collect only about $7.5 million in local rights fees. That's more than $40 million more for the Yankees to spend on players—and the disparity could get worse. The Yankees have recently floated a proposal to create their own broadcast network, which would cut out the middlemen and send all advertising money directly to the team. Baseball has a 'luxury tax' system to redistribute some of the dough, but so far it's been woefully ineffective.

Q: Do you think any other position players in Japan could succeed the way Ichiro Suzuki has in the United States?

A: Absolutely, positively, and whatever the Japanese phrase is for 'darn right.' Keep in mind, though, that right now there aren't many American or Latin American players having the same level of success as Ichiro. He won the batting title and was named the American League's most valuable player. Not many players, ever, have won that award.

I sense your real question is, 'How many other Japanese position players will become regulars in the major leagues?' My hunch is that at least a dozen or more will. To most cigar-chomping scouts, the success of Tsuyoshi Shinjo with the New York Mets is a greater shock than the success of Ichiro. Why? Because in Japan, Shinjo was no superstar. He batted .278 with 28 home runs for Hanshin last season. To see him step up and contribute with the Mets—he was batting over .300 until an injury sidelined him in early July—will surely make other Japanese players feel they can do the same.

I've only been to Japan twice and have watched only a few Japanese League games, but scouts tell me the talent pool is getting deeper. Pitchers will be tougher to find, but they're tougher to find everywhere.

Q: How does a baseball pitcher qualify for a 'save'?

A: Believe it or not, sometimes he just has to impress the game's official scorer. The baseball rulebook stipulates that a save must be awarded when specific conditions are met by a relief pitcher: He must finish up a game won by his team; he cannot be the official winning pitcher; and he must either enter the game with a lead of no more than three runs and pitch for at least one inning, or with the potential tying run on base, at bat, or on deck.

At the official scorer’s discretion, a pitcher can also be awarded a save if he finishes a game his team wins and he throws the ball effectively for at least three innings. The moral: If you work in the bullpen, always be nice to the scorer.

Q: Is there any rule that prevents a man from playing in the Women’s National Basketball Association (WNBA) or a woman from playing in the National Basketball Association (NBA)?

A: Technically, no. Even though the WNBA’s name specifically indicates “Women’s National Basketball Association,” a male player could probably sue and gain the right to play in the league. But which team would want him? Realistically, these are business enterprises, and if a basketball franchise is trying to sell tickets there is no upside to signing a man to play against women. It would create more animosity than goodwill.

On the NBA side of things, a day may come when a woeful franchise—say, the Clippers—thinks it can gain some attention and sell some seats by taking on a woman player. Some women have even been drafted or invited to NBA training camps as publicity stunts. But so far, no woman has developed the physical skills to compete regularly at the NBA level. The league has hired a few female referees who have drawn generally good reviews.

Q: When was the slam dunk made illegal in college basketball?

A: In 1968 UCLA ruled the college basketball world with its 7-foot 2-inch center, Lew Alcindor, who could slam dunk at whim. In an attempt to dilute his effect on the game, NCAA rulesmakers banned the shot. Any player who attempted one was given a technical foul.

It turned out to be a silly rule. Alcindor, who later changed his name to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, was hardly just a dunk-shot artist. He was a diverse and talented player who developed a complete offensive game and found plenty of other ways to score. And the sight of him standing beneath the hoop and banking in a “bunny” shot was, frankly, ridiculous. Even with the prohibition, UCLA went on to win seven straight NCAA titles, with another 7-footer—Bill Walton—succeeding Jabbar at center for the Bruins. In the 1973 national championship game, Walton made 21 of 22 shots from the field—none of them dunks.

Meanwhile, in the National Basketball Association (NBA), jams and slams were becoming more popular than ever. College officials, seeing the error of their ways, finally revoked the no-dunk rule in 1977. Undergraduates have been happily stuffing the ball ever since.

Q: Who is the best coach in Division I college basketball?

A: Until a few years ago, this was an easy answer. Pat Summitt, who coaches the Lady Vols at Tennessee, was the acknowledged master of her domain—and the best college coach in America, male or female. Summitt and the retired Wizard of Westwood, UCLA coach John Wooden, share the record for most Final Four appearances (12). But in 1998, after winning her sixth national title—and her third in a row—Summitt's last few teams have underachieved.

That leaves the question open to debate. The best Division I coach might be slogging away at a small school in a minor conference, where he or she works with players no one else wanted, yet still manages to win 12 or 13 games a season. But in terms of the prominent schools, the best case can be made for Mike Krzyzewski, who coaches the men’s team at Duke. Working at an academic-oriented school, he's taken 15 teams to the NCAA tournament and has reached 8 Final Fours, more than any other active coach in the men’s game. Some say “Coach K” should have won more than just two national championships, but only three coaches have managed that feat—Bobby Knight, Adolph Rupp, and Wooden.

Q: Who among current major leaguers and recently retired major leaguers (those who have retired in the last couple of years) do you think will make baseball’s Hall of Fame?

A: If pro sports is an exclusive country club, then baseball’s Hall of Fame is the exclusive grill room inside the exclusive country club. Less than 1 percent of all major leaguers are inducted into Cooperstown because the baseball writers who choose the inductees are so picky. To be selected, a candidate must receive 75 percent of those picky votes. The writers have elected just 71 players over the past 50 years.

So who’s likely to go in next? Catcher Gary Carter came closest the last time around, so he might get lucky next time. The two relief-pitching closers who also fell short—Rich Gossage and Bruce Sutter—probably deserve a spot. That doesn’t mean they’ll make it, though; Gossage failed to earn 50 percent of the vote in the last election. It’s puzzling because closing has become such a huge part of baseball. Two other great closers, Lee Smith and Dennis Eckersley, will soon become eligible, but they can’t be considered a lock either.

Who can be? Among recently retired players, the only sure things are Eddie Murray, Paul Molitor, and Wade Boggs. Andre Dawson, Orel Hershiser, and Ryne Sandberg will be on the bubble. Of players still in uniform, Cal Ripken, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire, Rickey Henderson, Ken Griffey, Jr., and Barry Bonds are the hitters who’ll be in Cooperstown. Among pitchers, you can argue and debate the merits of Randy Johnson, Greg Maddux, and Roger Clemens.

Finally, on the Pete Rose matter: Don't expect to see him with a Cooperstown plaque until Bud Selig, the current commissioner of baseball, is gone. Selig still thinks Rose has to come clean about betting on baseball, something Rose claims he never did. Regardless, Rose still belongs in the Hall of Fame. Why? Because the sign on the building reads, “Hall Of Fame,” not “Hall Of Swell Human Beings Who Never Gambled Or Cheated On Their Wives.” Rose was one of the game’s greatest—and most famous—players ever. He should have a Cooperstown plaque.

Q: What is 'chemistry' in team sports, and how important is it?

A: Many years ago, the Supreme Court of the United States was mulling over a pornography case. One justice said he couldn’t necessarily define obscenity, but he knew it when he saw it. The same observation applies to team chemistry. When you see a team that is playing well together, having fun and—usually—winning, you’re seeing chemistry. The tricky part is trying to make it happen.

No locker room in the world contains a team of totally perfect human beings. There are good guys, jerks, eccentrics, whiners, optimists, pessimists, tough people, and soft people. It’s the responsibility of the coach—and at the pro level, the general manager—to find the right mix and bake a good cake. When Casey Stengel was managing the New York Yankees, he said one of the most important things a baseball manager must do is “keep the five guys in the locker room who hate you away from the five guys who aren’t sure.”

Here’s one way to tell if a team has chemistry. Watch the bench during the game and see if the players really seem interested in what’s happening out on the field or the court. When someone hits a home run, see how many players immediately come to their feet to give him a handshake upon returning to the dugout and how many do it begrudgingly. You can have a championship team without perfect team chemistry, but it’s rare to find one without at least some. The Oakland A’s of the early 1970s had many locker-room fights, but they found unity in their resentment of team owner Charlie Finley and won three straight titles.

Q: The hapless Chicago Cubs haven't been in a World Series since 1945. Since then, a number of expansion teams have joined the majors and gone to the Series (the Mets, the Padres, the Blue Jays, and Marlins, just to name some). So, why do you think the Cubs can't win a pennant? Are they cursed?

A: Would it make you feel better about the Cubs' failures if someone could prove they really WERE cursed?

Sorry. That's not the case. There is a famous story about a Chicago bar owner who brought his goat to a game in the late 1940s, only to have the animal barred from entering. The bar owner, of Greek ancestry, then placed a 'curse' on the Cubs that would supposedly keep them from ever making it to the World Series.

More likely, the only 'curse' that hurt the Cubs was being owned for many years by the Wrigley family—fine, civic-minded folks who didn't care all that much about winning big or making a lot of money. In 1941 the family bought lighting equipment to install at Wrigley Field. But, when war broke out, they donated the lights to the war effort. After the war, the family was so unconcerned about the lights they never did install them. On the field, pressure to win was just as nonexistent. A series of incompetent trades and lax management kept the team out of contention.

When the Chicago Tribune Company purchased the team in 1981, success and profit became stronger motives. Lights were erected and turned on. The Cubs finally reached the playoffs in 1984 and have knocked at the World Series door a few times, including the 1998 season when Sammy Sosa's home run binge propelled the Cubs into the postseason—where they promptly lost, of course. But with the powers that be more committed to winning and spending the money to do so, it will only be a matter of time before the Cubs reach the World Series.

Of course, that's what they've been saying since 1946.

Q: Is all the gambling that goes on during the college basketball tournament a concern for the sport?

A: Yes. The National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) is scared to death that a point-shaving scandal may strike its most popular event. Before every season players from every school are given a lecture—usually by an FBI agent or other law enforcement official—about the dangers of gambling or hanging out with people who gamble. Still there have been regular-season point-shaving episodes at schools as prestigious as Northwestern and as far-flung as Arizona State.

For a while the NCAA even debated whether to ban from the Final Four any representatives from newspapers or media outlets that featured the 'Latest Line' gambling odds, but the proposal soon died because it was impractical. And you must admit, the NCAA and its member schools can be hypocritical. Some of the tournament’s corporate partners and affiliated Web sites offer bracket pools in which the winner can collect thousands of dollars. These are very similar to the office pools that are as common as dirt around the country, minus the $5 or $10 entry fee. And gambling is gambling, right? Even former Indiana coach Bob Knight, an outspoken voice against wagering on college sports and a past supporter of the NCAA’s antigambling stance, has made a promotional deal with a Web site in which he was paid to offer his opinions on which teams might advance in the tournament. Doesn’t that make him a tout, just like the sharpies in Vegas? The NCAA said it was okay because Knight was not affiliated with any basketball program at the time. Overall the organization’s “zero tolerance” policy on gambling seems anything but solid.

Q: Are college sports really corrupt or is it blown out of proportion?

A: Well, it depends on the definition of the word 'corrupt.'

If you mean, “Are college sports all crooked and led by evil people whose sole mission is to exploit the college students who play sports and the fans who watch them?” then the answer is a definite no.

If you are asking if college sports have become too financially driven and have strayed far from their original purpose—which was to provide students with healthy extracurricular activities and round out their total person—then the answer is a definite yes.

In the United States, college sports began in the 19th century, usually driven by students who simply wanted to let off some steam. They formed their own teams and challenged students from other schools to games of rugby, baseball, and other sports. Then the school administrators took over. It has been downhill ever since, at least in terms of purity. By the mid-20th century, college football and basketball were making tidy profits for universities whose teams played the sports at the highest level.

Once television entered the picture, perspective really went out the window. At too many places, decisions were made based on what would earn the school the most money, not what was best for the students. This is why coaches make seven-figure incomes while athletes are forced to miss classes while flying across the country to play games at odd hours and on odd dates (Thursday night ESPN football games are one example; a bowl game on Christmas eve is another).

The addition of women's sports through Title IX regulations has caused some men's programs to be scaled back, but now many athletic departments pursue the dollar with more greed than ever, claiming they need the money to pay for the women's teams, which don't generate revenue. Still, according to author Murray Sperber, an Indiana University professor who is a critic of big-time college sports, most schools lose money on their sports programs.

That said, there are a few things to remember. Many athletes still do earn their degrees because of athletic scholarships, and they carry lifelong memories of competing for their school. Also, there are fewer than 120 universities in the United States that play football at the NCAA Division I level and fewer than 350 that play basketball in Division I—and those are the schools where the money-grubbing is the most intense. That leaves more than 2,000 schools where the grubbing is minimal or nonexistent, including plenty of Division III schools where athletes play without athletic scholarships and schools keep sports in perspective, just like in the old days. At those places 'corruption' might consist of a lacrosse player stealing a pair of sweat socks.

Q: Will there ever be an NCAA Division I football playoff?

A: It could happen, but the negotiations will be almost as tricky as those being conducted in the Middle East. For many years, Division I college football has fed ravenously at the trough of the bowl system. The bowl games—there are now almost 20 of them—provide millions and millions of dollars to college athletic departments. The last thing most athletic directors want is for the money to go away. The last thing bowl promoters want is a system in which their particular bowls are diminished to the point where fans and viewers go away.

Obviously, these parties would regard a playoff system as a threat to the cash flow. Some people have suggested incorporating the playoffs into the current bowl setup, but this creates a problem: Would fans of Big State U. spend money traveling to, say, the first-round bowl game/playoff in San Antonio? Or would they save it for a possible trip to the semifinals in Miami or the finals in Pasadena? To make a playoff viable, it would take some sort of financial guarantee to both the colleges and the bowls. Even then, some conferences might not go along. For example, would the Big Ten give up an automatic trip to the megabucks Rose Bowl for a possible first-round elimination trip to El Paso?

Prediction: The current system, with a computer poll matching up the top two teams in a surrogate national championship game at one of four designated bowl sites, will be in place for at least five more years—probably longer.

Q: To what do you attribute the sudden rash of concussions among NFL quarterbacks? (And what can the league do about it?)

A: The next time you see some of those grainy black-and-white films from the National Football League’s (NFL) past, take a few seconds and check the size of the players. Check the pads they’re wearing. Both the men and the protective gear were much smaller than they are today. Players are also faster, and so are the fields on which they play. Anyone who’s studied rudimentary physics can do the equations and figure out what all this means.

It means that when a quarterback gets hit by an onrushing linebacker in the year 2001, the quarterback is getting hit a lot harder, and his skull is going to sustain much more damage. Combined with the fact that money is so much greater today—and that every defensive player knows that putting a starting quarterback out of business is the quickest way to take a team out of the Super Bowl hunt—and the incentive to give a concussion is multiplied exponentially.

Like the National Hockey League (NHL), the NFL can try to regulate the number of cheap hits with fines or penalties, but it still doesn’t change the fundamental truth that football is a collision sport. One NFL management source in the league office says he’s truly concerned that “too many players today just don’t give a damn,” but don’t expect anything to change soon. The punishment never truly fits the crime.

For example, in the playoffs following the 2000 season, the Baltimore Ravens eliminated the Oakland Raiders after Oakland quarterback Rich Gannon was viciously hit by 340-pound Ravens defensive tackle Tony Siragusa. Gannon avoided a concussion but suffered a separated shoulder and was ineffective the rest of the game, which Oakland lost. No penalty flag was thrown on the play but after NFL officials reviewed it on videotape, they fined Siragusa $10,000 for the hit. But what did it matter? He was already going to the Super Bowl.

Q: Why do the conferences have season-ending tournaments that appear to make the whole regular season meaningless?

A: Simple, simple answer. Basketball coaches love to coach. Basketball players love to play. Give them more games, and they will love more games. That's why most coaches push for the postseason conference tournaments, and why athletic directors—many of them former coaches—agree. Among other things, the conference tournaments can help fans forget a bad regular season if the coach pulls off an upset or two that might save his job.

Of course, there are financial considerations involved. But regardless of the money, let's face it: The coaches and players would probably lace them up any place, any time if anyone asked. Heck, a day or so after the season ends, these guys are back in the gym or on the playgrounds anyway, scrimmaging in pickup games. Competition is what it’s all about.

Q: Have the three big pro leagues (MLB, NFL, NBA) finished expanding or will there be more new franchises created? And is this a good or bad thing?

A: When is a major leaguer not a major leaguer? That's the fundamental issue behind all expansion questions. As the world population increases, and as training in all sports becomes more sophisticated, you'd think that enough good athletes would emerge to populate the top echelon of all organized games.

Try telling that to people who paid good money to watch the Tampa Bay Devil Rays against the Florida Marlins in the year 2000. Needless to say, quality is not job one. Talent has virtually nothing to do with the reasons leagues decide to expand. It's money. Whenever a new team joins one of the established leagues, the new team must pay millions and millions of dollars in franchise fees to the existing teams. That's what has brought us today's 28 Major League Baseball teams (versus 16 in 1961), 31 National Football League teams (versus 12 in 1959) and 28 National Basketball Association teams (versus nine in 1965).

But it's not just the greed of those existing teams that has created new franchises. Every decent-sized American town seems to desire its own major pro team, and in almost all respects, the demand has been shown to be justified. Only baseball has had serious problems, to the point where owners have spoken of 'contracting' the league by buying out the owners of two franchises to make MLB smaller. In football, there’s a different problem. Because of the Raiders and Rams' departure five years ago, the country's second largest metropolitan area has no NFL team. The league has pledged to put another team in the Los Angeles area, and it will probably be an expansion team, but the NFL has yet to decide when and where. It's also quite possible that, before any expansion operation, an existing team will move to LA. The NBA is at full strength and says it has no plans to become bigger.

The best guess from here: By the year 2010, the only major pro sports league that will have expanded is the biggest one—the NFL. That Los Angeles vacancy is too big to ignore. As for basketball, the NBA is so hungry for talent today that a few high school basketball players every year go directly to the league, rather than working on their games at the college level. Expansion would be idiotic. That means it will probably happen next year.

Q: On a golf scorecard there is a line dedicated to handicap per hole. What is this for? Why do the numbers differ so much?

A: Golf is a simple game. Hit the ball from tee to green, then putt it into the hole. Do it 18 times. You're done. But to make things more interesting—and allow golfers of different abilities to compete against one another—the rulemakers invented a 'handicap system.' It's not unlike giving a weaker runner a head start in a race, only in this case, there are 18 races, and in some of the races you get a head start, while in others you don't.

Here's how it works: Every hole on a particular golf course is rated from easiest to hardest. The hardest hole on the course is the No. 1 handicap hole, the second hardest is the No. 2 handicap hole, and so on. Those are the handicap numbers listed on a scorecard. If you are playing the hole with a handicap number of 18, it means you are playing the easiest hole on the course.

Now, let's say two golfers want to play a game against each other. Golfer A is much better than Golfer B. They will still be able to compete on an equal basis if they each have a United States Golf Association-certified handicap. The handicap is determined by a formula that uses the scores they shoot over a certain number of rounds. Let's say Golfer A has a handicap of 2, while Golfer B has a handicap of 15. That means Golfer A will 'get a stroke' on the two hardest holes of the course—as determined by those handicap numbers on the scorecard—while golfer B will 'get a stroke' on the 15 hardest holes. At the end of the day, if Golfer B shoots a score of 87 while Golfer A shoots a 75, then Golfer B will win the match

Why? Because Golfer B's score after subtracting his 15 handicap strokes is actually 72, while Golfer A's score after adjusting for his two handicap strokes is 73.

The handicap numbers on each golf hole can also be used in match play or in team games. More often than not, they are simply a gauge for whether a golfer on a certain course is having difficulty on the hardest or easiest holes—or, as is the case for many of us, on all of them.

Q: What is a 'grand slam' in golf?

A: The name, of course, comes from baseball, where a home run that clears the bases and scores four runs is called a grand slam. No one seems to know for sure when the term made the jump to other sports. Most likely it originated in 1930, when golfer Bobby Jones won the four tournaments that were then recognized as major championships—the U.S. Open, the British Open, the U.S. Amateur, and the British Amateur.

In the years since, the Masters and the Professional Golfers’ Association (PGA) Championship have replaced the two amateur tournaments as part of golf’s grand slam for men. No one has yet to win all four in the same year, although some observers think Tiger Woods is a good bet to pull it off at some point. In 2000 Woods became the first player since Ben Hogan in 1953 to win three major tournaments in the same year, missing out on only the Masters. Nobody has ever won the grand slam in women’s golf, where the four major tournaments are currently the U.S. Women’s Open, the Women’s British Open, the Ladies Professional Golf Association (LPGA) Championship, and the Dinah Shore.

Because completing a grand slam in one year is such as rare event, the term is sometimes adapted in referring to a career grand slam (winning all four major tournaments during a career). When he won the British Open in July 2000, Tiger Woods became only the fifth golfer to win the men’s career grand slam. Confusion with the term grand slam can also occur because a player who wins one of the four major tournaments is sometimes said to have won a grand slam (title), which is not the same as winning the grand slam.

Q: What are the three greatest upsets in NCAA basketball tourney history?

A: The greatest NCAA tournament upset, in strict basketball terms, was probably unranked Villanova's victory over Georgetown in the 1985 championship game. Georgetown, with stars Patrick Ewing and Reggie Williams, had dominated the Big East conference—and college basketball in general—throughout the 1984-85 regular season and entered the tournament with a record of 30-2. Villanova, a member of the Big East, had lost to the Hoyas twice during the regular season. Villanova received an at-large bid as a No. 8 seed, while Georgetown, the defending NCAA champion, was a No. 1 seed.

So the hoops world was rightfully stunned after Villanova played the game of its life and beat Georgetown, 66-64, for the national title. The Wildcats earned the victory with deadly shooting (22 of 28 from the field) and minimal mistakes. Georgetown, meanwhile, made just 29 of 53 field goal attempts and attempted only eight free throws because of Villanova's defensive discipline.

Two other tournament upsets bear mention. In 1966 the team from Texas Western (now the University of Texas at El Paso) beat the Kentucky Wildcats, 72-65, in a game with enormous social significance. Texas Western started five black players, the first NCAA championship team to do so, while Kentucky had an all-white roster. One observer later called the game 'college basketball's version of Brown v. Board of Education.'

And finally, in the 1993 tournament, unheralded No. 15 seed Santa Clara came from 9 points down in the second half to upset mighty No. 2 Arizona, 64-61, in a first-round game. Three other No. 15 seeds have beaten No. 2 seeds since the 64-team bracket was introduced in 1985, but none had this added element: Santa Clara coach Dick Davey's wife had to miss the game that night because she was directing a junior high school play back home in California. The play? Cinderella.

Q: Is hitting a baseball in the major leagues really the hardest thing to do in sports?

A: No. The hardest thing to do in sports is avoid Budweiser commercials on television. But you’d have to think that hitting a major league fastball or curveball might be a close second.

This topic is one of America’s great barstool debates. There’s probably no way of settling it. Personally, the one thing I'd never want to do is stand in a boxing ring against Muhammad Ali or Mike Tyson during their primes—or be an NFL wide receiver going across the middle with a strong safety closing in at full speed, ready for a smackdown.

In terms of skill, though, it’s hard to imagine anything more difficult than using a rounded wooden stick to hit a round ball that has been pitched anywhere up to 98 mph. Michael Jordan learned that when he briefly “retired” from basketball and became a minor league baseball player.

It wasn’t as easy as Jordan thought it would be. Jordan hit just one home run during his summer in the minors. Of course, it’s also hard to picture David Wells or Roger Clemens jumping high enough to dunk a basketball. On the other hand, many more people have dunked a basketball than have hit 60 or more homers in a season, at any level. Maybe that tells us the answer to the question.

A: Why is the National Hockey League (NHL) struggling financially in Canada, when hockey is the country’s national sport?

Q: Blame it on international commerce and the Canadian-American exchange rate. As sports have relied more and more on corporate dollars and luxury-box sales, the average fan and regular ticket sales don’t matter as much. Canada certainly has more hockey fans per capita than the United States. However, outside of its two or three major cities, the country will never have the corporate dollars to match those in most U.S. cities.

The weak Canadian dollar is also an issue. Almost without exception, NHL players want to be paid in American dollars. But Canadian franchises receive their revenue in mostly Canadian dollars. For these franchises, it’s like adding 20 percent in overhead before one puck is dropped. This money problem explains why Quebec and Winnipeg, smaller Canadian cities, have lost their NHL teams to Denver and Phoenix. The NHL and the Canadian government have tried and failed to address this issue with various tax relief proposals. Sad to say, but the situation may become worse before it gets better. There hasn’t been a Stanley Cup champion from Canada since the Montréal Canadiens in 1993.

Q: Should the National Hockey League (NHL) crack down on violence in the sport?

A: Absolutely. But not the kind you’re thinking of. Hockey violence is often misunderstood. It’s not the fights that make the players nervous and angry. It’s the cheap shots from behind, the ones that send players headfirst into the end boards or wrench their backs with whiplash against the glass. It is commonly felt that there’s much more of this now than even 10 or 15 years ago. Mike Modano, who plays for the Dallas Stars and has absorbed his share of such stupidity, once asked: 'Do we need for somebody to get paralyzed before we do something?'

The answer to his question might be yes. The league’s recent switch to two referees per game (instead of just one) has cut down on some of the nastiness, especially behind the play. But in a fast contact sport, it comes down to players respecting each other. And there’s no way to legislate that.

As for actual hockey fights and whether they might be banned one day, there’s a simple answer: never in 1 million years—or 1.5 million years, if you use the Canadian exchange rate. Go to any NHL game and only two things are guaranteed to bring fans to their feet—a goal or a fight. It’s a strange tradition but it’s been part of the league for more than 75 years. And as NHL executives note, there are fewer bench-clearing brawls in hockey than in Major League Baseball or the National Basketball Association. Instead, the two angry guys just slug it out until they’re exhausted. Every now and then, The Hockey News runs a poll of readers asking if fights should be outlawed. The results always show an overwhelming pro-punch sentiment.

Q: What are the main factors used by the selection committee to pick the at-large bids for the NCAA basketball tournament?

A: Well, we know what the standards are supposed to be. But we also know the standards are flexible. Basically, the ten-person committee sits in a hotel room for the entire selection weekend to hash out which teams belong and which teams don't. It's not unlike a group of fans drinking in a sports bar, but without the bar and without the drinks.

During the argument, er, discussion, all information counts in deciding the at-large berths. Generally, teams that compete in the so-called power conferences and have played a decent nonconference schedule get the best breaks. It's also a definite factor if a less well-known team has a history of performing well in the last few NCAA tournaments, going farther than expected.

The vaunted Ratings Percentage Index (RPI), which uses a computer formula to calculate one team's strengths compared to those of other teams, is used by the committee—but probably not as much as some people think. The committee uses it only to rule out obvious frauds. When a team is on the fence, a bigger factor is how it has performed during the last month of the season. As a tiebreaker, the committee loves to look at a team's road record, especially against tough opponents. As one committee member says: 'If it comes down to (a choice between) two teams, I pretend I'm a coach who must prepare to face one of those teams on just a few days notice. Well, which of the two do I least want to play? That's the one we should pick.'

Q: With the Casey Martin Supreme Court case in mind, do you think golf is a sport like football or basketball? Do you need to be in good shape to play well? And how is it different from, say, bowling or pool (billiards)?

A: I guess what we're talking about here is the definition of the word 'sport.' In my Webster's New World Dictionary, there are nine definitions for the word. The first one is 'Any activity or experience that gives enjoyment or recreation.' Golf certainly qualifies under those parameters.

At the same time, golf is clearly not as strenuous a sport as football or basketball. You don't have to be in top physical shape to play the game. Casey Martin's argument, as he asks to compete on the PGA Tour using a cart because of his disability, never tries to make that comparison.

Martin's attorneys simply claim that the game of golf consists of hitting the ball and making a shot, not the method of moving from shot to shot. And since at most golf courses in America, most people who play golf use electric or gasoline carts, you have to admit he's got a point. In fact, some courses and resorts—many where PGA club professionals operate the pro shops—demand that players use an electric cart. They can't walk the course even if they wish. You have to admit, that seems hypocritical. If the PGA were so concerned about people walking while playing golf, you'd think they would sue their own club pros to make them drop their mandatory-cart policies.

In any event, if you're classifying sports, golf certainly does fall more into the category of billiards or bowling, where skill counts more than aerobic conditioning. Of course, you could say the same about some Olympic sports—archery and shooting, just to name two.

Q: I'm the mother of a young son. I'm wondering what I will do someday if he tells me he wants to play football. With all the recent concussions and the usual rate of serious injuries, is the game becoming too dangerous? Can something be done?

A: With rare exceptions, sooner or later every parent is confronted with a kid who wants to play a sport. It might be baseball, soccer, volleyball, tennis, or golf. And it might also be football, which is the sport that keeps many moms and dads up late at night, wondering whether to give a thumbs up or thumbs down.

You're right. There have recently been a number of high-profile concussions—and a few deaths—on football fields in America. But those instances are very rare. The truth is, if your kid plays any sport, chances are that he or she is going to be injured at some point. That's what happens. One study has shown that just as many young boys are hurt playing baseball or softball as are hurt playing football. My own kids' dentist told me he sees more mouth injuries from baseball than from any other sport.

I believe him. My 18-year-old daughter has played softball and basketball and soccer and has injured her knee, torn some ankle ligaments, suffered a concussion, and needed two root canals plus minor plastic surgery to repair an injury from being struck in the mouth with a pitched softball. My 16-year-old son has played hockey, basketball, and baseball. He has hyperextended his thumb, hurt his back, and nearly had two teeth knocked out. You'll notice that neither of my kids played football (by their choice, not mine) but they still managed to get injured. And they still wanted to keep playing, because they were still having fun.

Football is, indeed, a separate case. Along with full-checking hockey, it carries the most potential for head injuries. And those are mighty scary. Some of them come without warning, even at the youth league level. But some can be prevented. Equipment is getting better all the time.

Here's my advice: Before letting your kid play youth football, get to know the coach as well as possible, or ask others about him. Some coaches are very sensitive to the contact nature of football, and some aren't. A good, well-trained coach will not teach a kid to tackle helmet-first. A good, well-trained coach pays attention and can tell when a kid is feeling woozy—and he pulls the kid off the field. A good, well-trained coach doesn’t put a kid in a situation where he might be overmatched and get trampled. If you don't like the vibes you're getting from the coach on these issues, find another team and another coach.

Once your kid reaches high school, of course, he may not have a choice of coaches. But by then, your son will probably have a good notion of how much contact he can handle. Keep in mind, too, that the physics of high school football (where you generally have 180-pound kids hitting other 180-pound kids) are not as terrifying as the physics of college football (where you have 230-pounders hitting other 230-pounders) or the NFL (you don't want to think about it).

So the odds are on your kid's side in terms of serious injury. Another thing to consider: If he's not allowed to play, will he be miserable? Will he sit around and mope and play video games all afternoon, when he could be going to practice? You have to consider all of these issues. Good luck.

Q: In golf, what’s the difference between match play and stroke play?

A: Actually, they’re about the same: Tiger Woods wins either way.

Seriously, stroke play is basically a contest between one golfer and the golf course he’s playing—along with the others who are playing the same course in the same tournament. Each player posts a score that is recorded against “par”—the number of strokes a player is supposed to take on each hole—and the player with the lowest score wins.

Match play is totally different. Par is irrelevant. Match play is a contest between two players, man versus man or woman versus woman. At the end of 18 holes, the player who has won the most holes wins the match—although if a player has a two-hole lead with one hole to go, the match ends at the 17th green. The advantage of match play is that if golfer A loses a hole to golfer B by 10 strokes, golfer A is still just one hole behind golfer B. If it were stroke play, golfer A would be 10 strokes behind golfer B.

Another way to understand it: A match-play tournament is like the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) basketball tournament, except with single players instead of teams. The players eliminate each other, head-to-head, until only two golfers are left for the final championship match. A stroke-play tournament is more like an immense basketball free-throw shooting contest, with dozens of players competing over four days to see which one can make the best percentage of free throws.

Q: Why does professional baseball have an extensive minor league system while professional football and basketball do not?

A: It’s purely an accident of history. Baseball dates to the 19th century and was the first major professional team sport in America. Leagues grew out of “town teams,” which challenged each other. In those days high school and college sports were not what they are today, and the baseball teams needed to form their own developmental system—the minor leagues.

However, football and basketball grew in popularity as college sports through the 1920s and 1930s, and entrepreneurs saw the potential. They started up professional leagues in these sports. The pro leagues were not as popular at first, so entrepreneurs began piggybacking on college football and basketball’s success by signing up their stars. As a bonus, this saved pro football and basketball a lot of money, because the colleges have become a de facto farm system for those two sports. That system, with minor alterations, remains in place today.

Q: Is the selection system for the college basketball tournaments fair—or should the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) just let everybody in?

A: The system is as fair as a system to select 64 teams can be—although this season it was 65 teams because of a play-in game between the two worst teams to qualify. The NCAA selection committee, which includes several former coaches, takes the job very seriously and locks itself in a hotel suite with mounds of information to get the job done.

From time to time a proposal that would allow all 300-plus Division I teams to participate is floated. But three factors work against it:

1. Everyone knows that each year there are usually just 10 or 12 teams with a real chance to win the tournament. Since the seeding system began in 1979, no team with a seed lower than No. 8 has won the title (in 1985 Villanova won the title as a No. 8 seed). So, realistically, the bottom 32 teams in the bracket have no hope.

2. If every team were in the tournament, seeding and staging the tournament would become a logistical nightmare—and, probably, a financial loser. Each team would have to play at least three more games—and maybe it's just me, but I don't think that first-round Wyoming-Eastern Washington game would draw a sellout crowd.

3. In essence, every team is in the tournament anyway. Virtually every team in America plays in a conference, Now that the Pac-10 has reinstated their postseason tournament for 2002, pretty much every conference except the Ivy League stages a season-ending tournament. Any team that wins their conference tournament automatically receives the league's guaranteed NCAA bid—so everybody has a chance to play in the Big Dance.

Q. How did the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) supplant the National Invitational Tournament (NIT) as the premier college basketball tournament?

A: What if the World Series were owned and operated not by Major League Baseball, but by sports promoters in Oregon who staged the fall classic at a big stadium in Portland every year? That's sort of the situation that college basketball found itself in during the 1930s. As the sport increased in popularity, the only major postseason event was the privately run NIT, which was held in New York City at Madison Square Garden. And the NIT promoters often overlooked teams from the hinterlands, figuring they wouldn't sell as many tickets as teams from the Eastern cities. Coaches across the country, feeling the NIT wasn't a true 'national' tournament, were at first annoyed, then frustrated.

Finally, the coaches acted. In 1939 the National Association of Basketball Coaches (NABC) sponsored its own end-of-the-year championship tournament and featured champions from all the major conferences. The championship game was played in Evanston, Illinois, and the winner was as much from the hinterlands as you could get, as the University of Oregon beat Ohio State, 46-33. Unfortunately the NABC lost $2,532 on the event. The NCAA offered to pay off the debt and guaranteed any future losses in return for sponsorship of the tournament in the future. The coaches agreed.

The NCAA, which operated all college sports in America, put great pressure on its member institutions to support its tournament and not the NIT. The plan worked spectacularly. In 1946 the NCAA first brought the 'Final Four' to one central site for a championship weekend, and a tradition was born. The NIT held on as a semimajor event for another decade; until 1953 teams were allowed to play in both tournaments, and in 1950 the City College of New York became the only school to win both in the same year. But by the late 1960s the NIT was considered the 'leftovers' tournament.

Q: What can colleges do about top athletes leaving school early for the pros?

A: Funny, isn’t it? If good musicians or actors leave college early to pursue their professions, no one makes a big deal of it. But when the same thing happens in sports, universities consider it a minor crisis.

Legally, the schools can do nothing to stop an athlete from leaving to earn a ridiculous salary as a pro—and they shouldn’t. Does it make sense for classroom space to be taken up by students who really don’t want to be there? But under the fascinating system that exists in America, that’s how it works.

The system, in which college sports serve as a minor league system for both the NFL and NBA, is deeply entrenched. Top high school athletes are channeled toward the country’s institutions of higher learning, where they must be (or must pretend to be) students as well as football or basketball players. It would make far more sense to set up actual minor leagues, as baseball has done. But the NFL and NBA realize how expensive that would be, and the college athletic departments believe their “product” would become inferior if teams were populated solely by students seeking diplomas. So the cozy arrangement continues.

It’s becoming far less cozy, though. As the NFL and NBA have expanded and created more jobs, there has been more of a demand for talent, and that demand has caused more college players to leave school early. In fact, a number of standout high school basketball players—such as Kobe Bryant and Kevin Garnett—have recently bypassed college altogether to head straight to the pros. The whole situation vexes university administrators. From time to time, proposals are floated to pay college football and basketball players some sort of salary. However, if that happened, then under federal regulations female college players would receive an equal stipend. Athletes in the so-called minor college sports would also likely sue for similar benefits. In other words, expect the pattern of underclass defections to continue.

Q: Will performance-enhancing drugs ever be eliminated from high-level sports?

A: Eliminated? Not likely. But their prevalence could diminish.

For at least the last 50 years, some athletes have used any chemical edge to get ahead in their particular sport. The situation is particularly noticeable every four years at the Summer Olympics, where more athletes gather and more sports events are conducted than at any other time or place. But drugs are used—and abused—in other sports as well. And there isn’t much consistency. The National Football League tests for anabolic steroids. Major League Baseball does not.

The good news is that over the past ten years, the international sports community has become more aggressive about weeding out drug cheaters. The former Iron Curtain countries, especially East Germany, actually had organized systems in place to give their competitors an advantage over opponents. That situation no longer exists. A World Anti-Doping Council has been formed, and scientists have been employed to come up with more and better ways to detect cheating. For the first time, say International Olympic Committee officials, the scientists are not chasing the chemical abusers; they are running an equal race with them. At the 2000 Olympics in Sydney, Australia, the testing was severe and thorough. Eleven athletes were stripped of medals.

The United States, which has been less strident in its approach to the problem, also seems to be getting more serious. At the Sydney Olympics, U.S. drug tsar Barry McCaffrey (of the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy) announced plans for a national agency that would seek to establish a universal standard for doping in all sports, amateur and professional. He was alarmed when a report revealed that steroid use among American teenagers—particularly females—had increased dramatically. When young girls start growing mustaches in order to compete in sports, it can get a person's attention.

Still, there are two major problems in trying to clean up sports and keep them drug free. One is that the drugs do work. Although they have severe side effects, including seizures and cancer, many athletes feel the risk is worth it for their one chance at a gold medal or a large professional salary.

The other problem: There seems to be a lack of public outrage over drug cheating. One U.S. track-and-field official says no corporate sponsor has ever mentioned the drug situation when signing any marketing contracts with the organization. McCaffrey believes many fans don't understand the core issue: An athlete should not have to risk harming himself or herself for life to compete with those who do cheat.

Don't expect performance-enhancers to ever be eradicated from sports. But as officials and organizers get more intent on cleaning up the mess—by spending more money on the science necessary to do so—there's a very good chance the cheating will be drastically reduced.

Q: Will Pete Rose ever be admitted to the National Baseball Hall of Fame?

A: As soon as Pete Rose appears on a Hall of Fame ballot he will be elected, because he has more hits than any player in baseball history and holds a plethora of other records. But he hasn't been on the Hall's ballot since the league put him on the 'disqualified' list in 1989 for his gambling and tax problems. And that's the rub.

The Hall of Fame, located in Cooperstown, New York, is not operated by Major League Baseball. But Hall officials decided they would not induct anyone who has been banned from the game. Therefore, Rose's name cannot appear on the Hall of Fame ballots, which are distributed every December to veteran members of the Baseball Writers’ Association of America (BBWAA). Some of the BBWAA members have cast write-in votes for Rose, but never enough to get him elected—and these votes aren’t counted anyway.

Rose has recently made a plea for a new review of his case by baseball commissioner Bud Selig, but so far Selig has shown no interest in reversing the decision made by his predecessor, the late Bart Giamatti. Selig and Giamatti were good friends and shared the same stern philosophy about gambling and baseball, so it's likely Selig will stand firm on the issue. Baseball forgives a lot of sins by its players, but if Rose bet on the sport (he says he didn't, while Giamatti believed he did), the game's integrity is called into question. Even if Rose bet only on the Cincinnati Reds while he was managing the team, you have to assume he wouldn't have wagered that the Reds would win every game (even Rose wasn’t that cocky). More likely he would have bet on them to win some games, and not bet on them at all in others. This could have affected the way he managed the team, i.e., saving his best relievers for the games on which he did bet.

The underlying issue is quite clear: If the paying customers who watch a game can't trust that every decision is being made in an effort to win the game, these customers might stop watching—and paying. Baseball can't allow this to happen. Perhaps one day Rose will convince enough people that he's innocent and be put back on the Hall ballot. Right now, his best bet (so to speak) is that Selig's successor is more open to that possibility.

Q: Is professional wrestling a sport, and how does it compare to today’s professional boxing?

A: As recently as 20 years ago, professional wrestling still did pretend to be a real sport. But the truth is, “scripted” wrestling matches with predetermined results date back almost 200 years, to traveling carnivals that staged “grappling competitions” to entertain customers. Often, the carnival’s resident heavyweight was pitted against a town’s own tough guy, and there would be betting on the match. But the local tough guy was usually in on the ruse—and he would either throw the match or win it, depending on which result would make the carnival the most money.

From these tawdry beginnings, pro wrestling graduated to arenas and stadiums and then television, always trying to sell the idea that it was a legitimate athletic competition, just like boxing. Hence, wrestling was regulated, just like boxing, by state or city athletic commissions that demanded sanctioning fees. Wrestling finally grew tired of paying those fees and meeting regulations. So it came clean and admitted to being pure athletic entertainment, a soap opera in tights, not a sport.

Boxing, on the other hand, is supposed to be on the up and up. It is still regulated—although not as strictly as some would like. Corruption is way too common in the way deals are brokered, and managers always seem to be in lawsuits with former boxers who claim their managers stiffed them. But the fights themselves are legitimate 99 percent of the time. This explains why so many of them are dull, bad, and certainly not as exciting as wrestling matches—which explains why wrestling gets better television ratings and is currently more popular.

Q: Will technology (such as the NFL's instant replay) ever eliminate the need for human officials?

A: Once upon a time, there was no instant replay. People argued like crazy over officials’ calls, saying that the referees were blind and that their teams were getting robbed.

Then along came technology, with television cameras providing angles from above and below and from the sides. Guess what? People still argue like crazy, saying that if there had been just one more angle from exactly the right spot and if only the referee reviewing the replay had looked more carefully, their team wouldn't have been robbed.

Doesn't that tell you something?

It tells us that sports are human. And no matter how much high tech stuff you throw at sports, they are still going to be human. If baseball wished, it could probably spend millions of dollars to place electronic sensors in the first base bag and in the first baseman's mitt and use them to see if the runner's foot beat the throw from the shortstop. But would that be any fun? Of course not.

Basketball, soccer and hockey are sports where judgment calls reign supreme when assessing fouls or penalties. It’s only slightly less so in football. Instant replay came to the National Football League mostly because of some blatant missed calls that affected playoff teams (and playoff paychecks). To that extent, the most awful errors are being avoided. But two officials may look at the same exact pass-defense situation, and one may see interference, and the other may not. That's the problem.

For all these reasons, don't expect a sport to totally go with robo-officials any time soon, if ever. Tennis might be the sport to try it—after all, a ball is either inside or outside those lines—especially at major tournaments. But the prediction here is that even that would be a flop. Part of the entertainment value of any sport is seeing athletes and coaches glare or jaw at officials, then beefing to the person in the next seat about how rotten the call was. Take that out, and you might as well be playing a video game.

Q: What are the eligibility guidelines for baseball's rookie of the year award?

A: If a tree falls in the forest, but the only person who hears it is someone who's never actually heard a tree fall, is that person a true rookie? It's a philosophical question that has dogged professional sports from the beginning.

Rookies are a part of baseball lore, and the common definition of a rookie is “a first-year player.” Therefore, the rookie of the year award—awards, actually, since there is one given for each league—should go to the best first-year player in uniform.

Unfortunately, it's not that simple. The major leagues have a long tradition of bringing up young prospects from the minor leagues late in the year for help in a pennant race, to give them some big-league experience, or simply to take a look at them. If a young player is called up for just three days at the end of a season, should this disqualify him from winning the rookie award if he has a fantastic full season the next year? Of course not.

Surprisingly, the coveted award didn't even exist until 1947, when 28-year-old Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier by joining the Brooklyn Dodgers. Robinson sparked such interest and played so well that people in the game thought he must deserve some sort of honor. The Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) took over the balloting soon thereafter, with three writers from each major league market voting on the award.

At first, the BBWAA guidelines were vague as to who was or wasn't a rookie. The standards were codified after a controversy in 1950, when the BBWAA voting panel ignored Al Rosen in the American League rookie of the year voting despite his impressive 37 home runs for the Cleveland Indians. Panel members were concerned about his 58 previous major league at bats, when he'd been called up from the minors in previous seasons. But here was the problem: the panel gave the award instead to Walt Dropo of the Boston Red Sox, who had accumulated 41 major league at bats himself in previous seasons.

The controversy festered until 1957, when the BBWAA formulated some rules to put limits on the term rookie. They've been tweaked over the years, but the current guidelines are these: To be considered a rookie, a player cannot have accumulated more than 130 at bats or pitched more than 50 innings in any previous major league season. Also, he cannot have spent more than 45 days on a major league roster, not counting games played after September 1.

I've only voted for the rookie of the year award once, in 1992, when it was my turn on the BBWAA selection panel for the National League. I voted for Eric Karros of the L.A. Dodgers. He won. Still hasn't sent me a thank-you note.

Q: I have always felt a little perplexed by news reports of what I personally think of as 'soccer stampedes' where many injuries and deaths have occurred due to fans crashing the gates. It seems to be limited to soccer—is that true? Are there other sports that suffer the same mayhem?

A: Soccer stampedes, soccer riots, soccer hooliganism. And yet the Brazilians still call it 'the beautiful game'? Well, yes. But it does often seem that every week there's a soccer headline about a grandstand collapsing, a disturbance breaking out after a game, or a referee being threatened.

Is all this the fault of soccer? Not exactly. You will notice that in the United States, where the game has not yet found a place among the top major spectator sports, there are hardly any soccer disturbances—even at the occasional event with a capacity crowd. Most of the trouble seems to occur in other countries. If you read the stories closely, much of the difficulty occurs in facilities that are of substandard quality or not designed with crowd control in mind. The concourses may be too narrow. The seats might be wooden planks with no footrests. The barriers between the grandstands and the playing field might be little more than cyclone fencing.

In the United States, we tend to assume that all stadiums, everywhere, are as modern and as well designed as our NFL or Major League Baseball stadiums. Not true. Also, there are many countries where unreserved, general admission ticketing is the rule rather than the exception. When you combine those two situations with a full house of passionate fans, disaster can happen. If U.S. football or baseball were as popular as soccer under those same conditions, there might well be just as many stampedes or riots.

That said, Europe also has a definite subculture of soccer fans whose main purpose is to cause as much mayhem as possible, and there's nothing in U.S. sports that compares to that particular subculture. Recommended reading is a book called Among The Thugs by Bill Buford, a literary editor who lived among the soccer hooligans for a year. Imagine if the Hell's Angels decided to be soccer fans rather than motorcycle fans. Now you've got the idea.

Q: What accounts for the lesser popularity of soccer in the United States relative to the rest of the world?

A: If you believe soccer fanatics, the United States is just stupid and not open to the marvelous beauty of “football,” which is what the sport is called outside North America. But the real answer is a lot more complicated. It begins with the fact that Americans, perhaps owing to the nation’s original revolutionary spirit, have always preferred sports that Americans invented—baseball, basketball, and American football. Soccer is regarded as a foreign interloper and always will be.

For several decades U.S. soccer fans and officials have trumpeted statistics showing that soccer is hugely popular as a youth sport in America. But playing the sport as a kid and supporting high-level professional leagues are two very different things. When a talented young athlete turns on the television to watch major college or pro sports, he or she doesn’t see soccer. So some of the best players switch to other sports—a fact that, in turn, decreases the likelihood that a top pro league stocked with primarily American talent will ever exist.

When the men’s World Cup, soccer’s premier event, was held in the United States in 1994, Americans attended the matches in large numbers but viewed the matches more as spectacles than as games. Major League Soccer (MLS), the professional league that formed in the United States in the wake of the World Cup, has suffered disappointing ratings and has yet to make a major impact on the national sporting consciousness. The level of play in the MLS is still far behind that of the best leagues in Europe. The new women’s pro soccer league, the WUSA, may have a better chance because it will be the world’s top league for women players. But, at least at the pro level, soccer may never be more than a minor sport in the shadow of the other major American sports leagues.

Q: What are the greatest dynasties in the history of college and professional sports?

A: Ready to argue? The question of sports dynasties is debated from coast to coast, in arenas, stadiums, and sports bars. In college sports, there’s pretty much no question. The UCLA basketball dominance from 1964 to 1975, when the Bruins won 10 of a possible 12 national championships under coach John Wooden, is the clear winner. It will be a near impossible feat to match, at least in the major college sports. The turnover among athletes and coaches is just too great.

At the professional level, though, the issue is wide open—and maybe the best way to settle it is to look over multiple decades, not just a 10- or 15-year period. That’s when a franchise really shows its mettle. There are three legitimate claimants to the title of 'greatest dynasty.' In hockey, the Montreal Canadiens won 16 of a possible 27 Stanley Cup championships (59 percent) from 1953 to 1979. In basketball, the Boston Celtics won 16 of a possible 30 NBA titles (53 percent) from 1957 to 1986. In baseball, the New York Yankees captured 19 of a possible 36 World Series championships (52 percent) from 1927 to 1962.

Take your pick, but for my money, the Celtics—who won eight straight NBA titles during their best stretch—get the nod.

Q: How does Stanford manage to mix standout academics with standout men's and women's basketball?

A: Stanford’s got the whole package. The campus is located in a beautiful part of America, the San Francisco Bay area, and has a very mild climate. It’s one of the country's top universities. Stanford plays in a nationally recognized conference, the Pac-10, and offers two of the nation's best coaches—Mike Montgomery for the men and Tara VanDerveer for the women.

Of course, all of that was true ten years ago, but Stanford's men weren't as dominant as they've been recently. The landscape of college basketball began changing. And almost all of that change helped the Cardinal.

At a time when the National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA), athletic directors, and the media have put more focus on the graduation rates of college basketball programs, Stanford has ranked at the top, earning the attention of parents who care about their kids’ educational experience. As more and more underclassmen at other colleges began jumping to the National Basketball Association (NBA), Stanford players stayed put. As of the beginning of the 2000-2001 season, no Stanford player had ever left school early to turn pro. (Stanford’s star guard, Casey Jacobsen, might be the most serious challenge to this run.) Why do these players stay in school? Because most of them are actually there to receive an education as well as to play basketball. And since they do stick around for four years to receive their degrees—virtually all of Montgomery's players have earned degrees—Stanford has solid veteran leadership every season. Many men’s teams lack that vital component nowadays.

For the Cardinal women, of course, turning pro had not really been an issue until the United States developed pro leagues in the last four or five years. So a female high school hoops star seeking a valuable diploma was usually interested in Stanford, and VanDerveer's coaching talents closed the deal. She has won two NCAA championships at Stanford (1990, 1992) and has also coached the United States to the basketball gold medal in the 1996 Olympics.

Stanford athletic director Ted Leland, when asked the above question, answers this way: 'If you are a serious student who is a great athlete, you're going to seriously consider Stanford. Our present undergraduates and recently graduated student-athletes are our best sales people.'

Q: Does the temperature outside affect a baseball's performance?

A: Yes, somewhat. Some scientists say severe heat makes baseballs go slightly farther when struck by a bat. But only slightly. It shouldn't make that much of a difference, although a baseball bromide says that spring training batting averages shouldn't be taken too seriously because they are attained in hot weather. (Of course, they are also attained against many minor league pitchers who are on major league rosters in the spring, so that may have as much to do with it as temperature.)

In terms of making a ball travel a longer distance, elevation is a far greater factor. Every season, more home runs are hit at Coors Field in mile-high Denver than are hit in any other ballpark. The second best combination, probably, is heat and humidity. That may seem odd because the common perception is that humidity makes the air 'heavier.' Actually, it makes the air more slippery. Therefore, it's easier for the ball to 'slide' through the air and over the outfield fence.

Q: What is a 'grand slam' in tennis?

A: The name, of course, comes from baseball, where a home run that clears the bases and scores four runs is called a grand slam. No one seems to know for sure when the term made the jump to other sports. Most likely it originated in 1930, when golfer Bobby Jones won the four tournaments that were then recognized as major championships—the U.S. Open, the British Open, the U.S. Amateur, and the British Amateur.

In men’s and women’s tennis, the grand slam comprises the Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open. Don Budge won all four tournaments in 1938, and Rod Laver swept the events twice, in 1962 and 1969. In women’s tennis, Maureen Connolly (1953), Margaret Smith Court (1970), and Steffi Graf (1988) have all won the grand slam.

Because completing a grand slam in one year is such as rare event, the term is sometimes adapted in referring to a career grand slam (winning all four major tournaments during a career). By winning the 1999 French Open, Andre Agassi became only the fifth tennis player to win the men’s career grand slam. Confusion with the term grand slam can also occur because a player who wins one of the four major tournaments is sometimes said to have won a grand slam (title), which is not the same as winning the grand slam.

Q: What special quality or skill does Tiger Woods possess that other pro golfers do not?

A: Here's the problem: When people look at Tiger Woods, they think too much about his childhood. Granted, it was rather, um, unique. When Tiger was a baby, his dad would take him out to the garage and put him in a highchair so that he could see his father hit golf balls into a net and demonstrate proper swing technique.

It sounds demented and cute all at once, doesn't it? But the point is, if that worked for every kid, garages from coast to coast would be full of fathers swinging away. You have to assume there have been other dads who exposed (or pushed) their sons and daughters into sports at an early age. But only Woods is on pace to become the greatest golfer ever.

He's doing it for a couple of reasons. Yes, he has the physical package of a lithe, strong frame. But he also has the desire to use that package to the utmost. Woods is a demon for physical conditioning—at the U.S. Open in 2001, early arrivals were stunned when Woods blew by them in a jogging suit a few hours before his round—and for practice. In that sense, he is not unlike Michael Jordan, who was famous as a youngster for visiting one playground in the morning, another in the afternoon, and then another at night, looking for games, looking for action. The ability to be one of the world's best players but still want to improve and do whatever it takes every day to get better—that's what makes a champion's champion. While others are out having a good time or relaxing, Woods is more often than not refining his technique.

Here's one story that demonstrates Woods's constant search for perfection. While attending Stanford University, Woods made his first appearance at the Masters tournament as an amateur player. One spring day while other students were out enjoying the sunshine and other pleasures of campus life, someone found Woods putting golf balls on Stanford's basketball court. Woods would place the balls on the free-throw line and try to make them stop on the baseline beneath the basket. His reasoning? If he could successfully do that, he figured, he could handle the notoriously fast greens at Augusta National.

Somewhere along the way, like Jordan, Woods also acquired the mental toughness that enables him to not wilt under pressure. Most likely, that goes back to all the hard work he did along the way, in good and bad conditions, on days of mental ups and downs. This doesn't make him a perfect human being, but it does make him an astounding athlete. From here, it seems there are only two things that can stop him from surpassing all of Jack Nicklaus's records: A bad injury or a bad love affair.

Q: Can underdogs, such as Villanova in 1985, still win the NCAA basketball title?

A: Absolutely—but it will be difficult. As the tournament selection committee refines the process by which it seeds teams, it gets harder for the 'sleeper' teams to sneak through the field.

Still, there have been more surprising underdog champions than you might think—probably because after they won, revisionist history made it seem as if they really weren't underdogs. For example, Kansas won it all in 1988 despite having lost 11 games during the regular season, good enough for only a sixth seed. Another sixth seed, North Carolina State, won the title in 1983. And in 1997, the Arizona Wildcats shook off a nine-loss regular season and a fifth-place conference finish to claw their way from a fourth seed to the national title.

Since 1997, admittedly, the favorites have generally prevailed. But that just means an underdog is overdue. Don't rule out those No. 4 or No. 5 seeds on your bracket.

Q: Do you think that the Williams sisters deliberately lose matches to each other (with their father's involvement or not)? Are there any parallels to this in tennis or other sports where siblings or close friends have competed in a person-on-person way, and there were questions about throwing matches?

A: The first thing to understand about big-time professional tennis, along with figure skating, is that gossip runs more rampant than usual. It probably has something to do with the atmosphere around both sports and the athletes who compete in them—globe-trotting personalities who develop entourages and can earn millions of dollars by being as cut-throat competitive as possible. For the most part, this world is also very white and very upscale and very suburban.

Now, into this mix, drop immensely skilled twin African American girls from a modest urban upbringing, with a domineering father/coach who is prone to making outrageous statements. You can see how that would heat up the gossip machine to sunlike temperatures.

There have been accusations that Venus and Serena Williams 'tank' matches to each other according to their father's instructions, to make sure each sister receives her share of attention and prize money. It sounds absurd on the surface—when you play against your brother or sister in anything, including checkers, don't you want to beat him or her, no matter what your dad might say? But in the tennis world, the buzz is hard to stop once it gets going. Besides, who says it isn't true, at least on some level? The only people who really know are the Williamses themselves.

There have been other sibling competitors in sport and even some twins, but they have almost exclusively been in team sports—most noticeably, basketball, where the Van Arsdale twins (Dick and Tom) and the Grant twins (Horace and Harvey) played with and against each other in the NBA. It's hard to 'tank' when you've got eight other players on the floor with you, though, so the issue never really surfaces.