Surround seating will enclose the near court for matches.

Open year round, the $19 million complex - covering 160,000 square feet and comprising of 20 indoor/outdoor courts (five permanent indoor and 15 indoor/outdoor) - offers memberships ranging from individuals to corporate sponsors, adult and junior programs, the John McEnroe Tennis Academy, adult leagues 50 and over, summer camps, parties for kids, and as of this July will be home to the NY Sportimes as they enter the 35th season of the World TeamTennis Pro League. 

Prior to my visit to Sportime at Randall's Island, I'd never heard of the World TeamTennis Pro League, or WTT.  After five minutes of understanding its logistics, though, and previewing the season's schedule, I was intrigued.

Established in the early 1970s by Billy Jean King and Larry King, the WTT consists of ten teams: five from the Eastern Conference (Boston Lobsters, New York Buzz, New York Sportimes, Philadelphia Freedoms, Washington Kastles) and five from the Western Conference (Kansas City Explorers, Newport Beach Breakers, Sacramento Capitals, St. Louis Aces, Springfield Lasers).  

Each team is made up of a coach, two men and two women.  The format for every match consists of five sets and each set is played by: one men's singles, one women's singles, one men's doubles, one women's doubles and one mixed doubles.  The first to five games wins the set with a nine-point tiebreaker deciding a four all tie.  A point is granted for every game won and the team with the most points at the end of the match wins.  For the season, the top two teams from each conference make the playoffs.   

Seemingly designed to offer variety and a quick tempo, the dynamic of the league removes the every-man-or-woman-for-themselves mindset most tennis players are accustomed to, and instead replaces it with team camaraderie.   

Additionally, on paper, you would think an Andy Roddick vs. John McEnroe match (Wednesday, July 14th 7 PM at Sportime Stadium at Randall's Island) would be a mismatch.  But for one set, after watching McEnroe volley a few balls on his home facility during my tour, it wouldn't be a surprise to see him take the 28-year old Roddick, if only for a set. John McEnroe on his backhand.

As for the remainder of the talent participating this season, the defending WTT Champions, the Washington Kastles, are led by Serena and Venus Williams on the ladies side and former No. 1 men's doubles player, Leander Paes, who currently ranks No. 6 on the ATP Tour, on the men's.  Andy Roddick plays for the Philadelphia Freedoms.  International Tennis Hall of Fame inductee, Michael Chang, plays for the Sacramento Capitals.  The No. 1 ranked men's doubles tandem - Bob and Mike Bryan - play for the Kansas City Explorers.  James Blake leads the Boston Lobsters.  Maria Sharapova leads the Newport Beach Breakers. Anna Kournikova and Lindsay Davenport are St. Louis Aces.  Martina Hingis, who captured five Grand Slam singles titles throughout her career, plays for New York's "other" team, the Buzz.  And then there are the New York Sportimes.  Led by team Captain, John McEnroe, the Sportimes also feature reinvented Kim Clijsters, Robert Kendrick, Ashley Harkleroad, Jesse Witten and Abigail Spears. 

Having joined the WTT in 2000, the Sportimes are seeking their second championship and first since 2005.  Coming off a 2009 playoff appearance, and looking to build off its momentum, the former No. 1 junior player in the world, Chuck Adams, will begin his fourth season as head coach when the NY Sportimes unveil their new home on July 5th at 7 PM against the Washington Kastles.     

When asked his thoughts on the Sportimes' chances of capturing this season's WTT title, General Manager, John Dato, said, "We're one of the stronger teams in the Eastern Conference and our chances of making the playoffs are good." 

Standing between them and their goal - a trip to Kansas City where the Eastern and Western champions will face off for the title - is a 14-match schedule during the month of July, not to mention, of course, some of the best competitors in the game.  

So if you're a tennis fan, or even if you're not, I suggest you head out this summer and help the New York Sportimes christen Sportime Stadium at Randall's Island.  Choose to bring the family, come with a friend, or by yourself.  But the intimate setting Sportime at Randall's Island provides will surely present a fun experience either way.

Visit here to purchase your tickets today.  

As most of us are aware, soccer has always taken a backseat to the major sports in the United States.  In a country that is generally considered dominant in countless athletic arenas, we've failed to make our mark on soccer, the world’s sport.  Our talent pools have always been heavily fished, the vast majority of our best being diverted toward football, baseball, basketball, and hockey (to a lesser degree). 

These are the sports with great visibility in the United States.  They produce games the American fan references and recalls with great precision.  Elway and “The Drive”, Jeter diving into the seats to bring down a foul ball, Jordan stripping Malone and hitting a jumper to win it all, and Messier scoring a hat trick to make good on a heavily publicized guarantee in the conference finals against the Devils in ’94'.  These are the televised sports, in which agony, pain, ecstacy, and triumph are solicited in the United States. 

And they're covered religiously.  

I’m sure you have noticed an increase of soccer highlights in your daily intake of Sportscenter.  Thanks to ESPN executive John Skipper (his predecessor at ESPN had zero interest in the game) and his pro-soccer stance, we have been seeing highlights from abroad for a while now in the lead-up to the World Cup.  And the World Cup will be covered in full, and in high definition (HD).  Ahh, sports in HD.  You could write a book on that alone.  And I think it will play a huge part in the growth of soccer viewership in the United States.

I guess a decent theory for soccer’s inability to take root in America is the nature of the game itself.  In my mind and in the mind of soccer fans all over the world, it is a game that is chock full of potential as soon as that ball is kicked off at 0:00 and sets the clock in upward motion. 

By potential, I mean it is a game of strategy and skill that is best viewed through a familiarity with each and every player’s given potential to perform a potentially game-changing activity on the pitch. 

For instance…A dominant midfielder holding the ball to literally set the pace of the attack, twitching a shoulder to create space, and dropping a perfectly struck ball onto the foot of a racing attacker to potentially get a chance on goal or even make a run at the box; or a defenseman reading an oncoming attack, anticipating the pass, trapping the ball with his chest, and triggering a potentially vicious counter. 

To the soccer fan, these are the times when the breath is painfully held or the heart quickens in anticipation of something that might (pray to whichever God is yours) possibly happen.  There are no points for these activities.  Basketball games are full of points.  Football, while not always a high scoring affair, have first downs.  Baseball has hits, strikeouts and innings.  These are all moments.  To the average American sports fan, NOTHING HAPPENS in soccer. 

This could not be more perfectly epitomized in this Simpsons’ clip:

The only guy that really gets it is the second announcer in the press box, and while he may be American, he is obviously one of a culture that seems far, far away.  His hand is straining against the glass because he knows what can happen.  He is well aware that he can have his heart ripped out of his chest, and knows he is capable of achieving a near ecstacy-inducing release that a goal provides. 

The passion in soccer is incredible, especially World Cup Soccer.  There is a cauldron of feelings inherent in the tournament’s diverse soul.  It is a potent recipe, one which utilizes national pride as the final magical ingredient, the proverbial shot of vinegar that ties all of the ingredients together to complete the dish. 

I first witnessed this sensation at very young age going into Calabria’s in my hometown of Livingston, NJ.  I don’t remember what game they were watching (could’ve been the ’82 World Cup, Italy won), but everyone working in the pizzeria had their eyes glued to the satellite feed beaming in from Italy onto the small TV above, and nothing else mattered.  I don’t even know if I got a slice of pizza, to be honest.  These guys were transfixed, and visibly in agony for no apparent reason to me.

This brings me to Philly, June 4, 2010: Philadelphia was the site of the US squad’s final game in the send-off series.  I have to say it was pleasing from the minute I opened my eyes.  Driving into the lot at 11AM, the buzz was palpable: BBQ in the air, beers flowing, marching bands with drums and horns, US jerseys everywhere, a Captain America, a guy in a boy scout outfit. ("Half funny, half very disturbing…” a friend remarked.) 

I’ve been to a lot of tailgates…and concerts for that matter.  There is nothing more rewarding than feeling that unique buzz before the start, and getting the ultimate payoff – a great show.  With our official 23-man roster named after the game against Czech Republic earlier in the week, we were going to get an A-game against Turkey, a strong team that failed to make the Cup because of the enormous task of surfacing in Europe’s brutal qualifying process.  The US showed skill and resiliency after a shaky first half, coming back and winning the game 2-1 on a Clint Dempsey goal with 14 minutes remaining. 

Big picture-wise, and even with this particular team, I feel momentum.  Not like a Daddy spotting his little girl on a Merry-Go-Round type momentum, but actual significant momentum.  With our last warm-up game
played (and won) against Australia this past Saturday, our boys have turned their gaze toward a June 12 showdown with the Three Lions of England: a powerful team stocked with all-stars, and a team whose mentality and focus has been successfully sharpened by Italian coach Fabio Capello. 

Unfortunately for England, they are also a team that has a fanbase with the highest of expectations, accepts nothing but the best, and is consistently let down.  The pressure on these guys is at a maximum.  On the other hand, our team has no pressure and has proven that it can take out big boys.  Our 2-0 victory over No. 1 ranked Spain and subsequent near-toppling of Brazil in last summer’s Confederation’s Cup has done a great deal for our confidence. 

The US opens play against England at 2:30PM on Saturday, June 12 on ABC. (For more scheduling notes, click here.)

Now watch this video and let's f*cking go!

Who would go first?  Would Tim Tebow be one of the first 32 to get picked?  Would Ben Roethlisberger be traded for a top-10 selection?  

Like two fronts converging, these questions, and more, left the 75th NFL Draft shaping up to be a thunderous event.

In the past, frankly, I didn't give a hoot about anyone outside the first 10 selections.  Did I really care if Denver traded up to grab an outside linebacker from Fresno State?  Or that New England decided to forgo their first-round position for an additional one later on?

But because everyone, and I mean everyone, obsesses about this event as if it were sacrilegious not to, I decided to dive in head first.  

Here's what I noticed:

- Giving the draft, especially the first round, prime time relevance was the smartest thing the NFL could have done.  It's not that the NFL hasn't been orchestrating the draft brilliantly already, but allowing the first 32 picks to be televised by themselves—without the continued barrage of immediate rounds to follow—was, incredibly enough, more brilliant.  

How can I say this?  Because if the draft caught my eye, an eye that was intentionally blindfolded to this event in all years past, then the NFL captured the audience they were after—the small percentage that wasn't watching before. (Now if they can manage to gain my interest in rounds two through seven they'd really be onto something.)

- Can ESPN have more guys offering their opinions on each team's selection?  Besides the usual thoughts of Mel Kiper, Jr. and Todd McShay, the draft's panel consisted of Kiper, Jon Gruden, Steve Young, and Tom Jackson.  Out of this group, only Jon Gruden has a perspective worth a lick.  Kiper had Colt McCoy going 11th and McShay had Jimmy Clausen going 13th.  Considering they went 85th and 48th, respectively, why should we be subjected to their projections?  Give me someone who's been there before.  ESPN employs former athletes, coaches, and executives.  What about former scouts?  Now them I'll listen to around draft time.

- At one point during the lead-up to the No. 1 pick, after I was forced to watch the 40-second mock draft scenario, I wondered how many mock draft variations there are.  I then wished I paid attention in statistics more because I could have at least gotten in the ballpark of the answer.  Think about it: 224 picks, only Kiper and McShay know how many available to choose from, and every which way to mix them up to get another mock draft.  It's gotta be millions.  If anyone gets the answer, send it along.  

- Thirty-two picks is a bit long for my attention span.  I was told Tim Tebow would go in the bottom third of the first round so I hung around to find out.  Sure enough, with the 25th pick in the 2010 NFL Draft, the Denver Broncos selected Tim Tebow, quarterback from the University of Florida.  And then the questions for Josh McDaniels came.  What was he thinking taking Tebow at 25...Are they really filling their holes?    

And that's where I tuned out.

After this year, I'll admit, my reasons for disliking the draft were harder to come by.  Maybe it's the constant analyzing that pushes me away.  Or maybe it's the fact that every other sport has the exact same format for selecting their players, but only the NFL markets theirs to perfection and shoves it down our throats.

Of the three-and-a-half hours worth of first round coverage, I studiously took in about three.  I knew I'd be reporting my findings here, and for that I was determined to learn why the draft is so special.

My conclusion: It's special because there are others who enjoy it much more than me.  And now, after giving it a shot and not experiencing the same joy as those around me, I'm OK with that.

A lot of fans love the NFL Draft, it's just not for me.

With changes in mind, and the 2010 March frenzy less than a week away, pay special attention to the insanity that a 64-team bracket induces, while at the same time remain open-minded to the idea of adding another 32.  (I understand the current format has, technically, 65 teams, but the "play-in" game might hold more irrelevancy than Mark McGwire's steroid confession.)

To evaluate both options, one must understand the history of this three-week phenomenon—and the transformative expansion it has gone through—in order to credibly offer a verdict.

In addition, it's important to consider the effect a 96-team format would have—whether it be on the students' educational inconveniences, the TV scheduling and how CBS would be impacted, or, perhaps the main driving force behind any changes, the finances.

Now, although the latter isn't this writer's expertise, we can, however, hypothesis on the tournament's structural changes and the students' educational demands. Before we do, let's dig into the history of March Madness.

In 1979 the tournament field moved to a 40-team format, up from 32 the year prior. The next year, the tourney saw its participants expand eight more, totaling 48. Finally in 1985, aside from the aforementioned irrelevantly added play-in game, the number settled at 64, and has been stagnant there ever since.  

Why the doubling of the tournament during the late '70s to mid-'80s?  

A logical explanation would be the media coverage and attention the game received. In 1979 the championship game was viewed by a record 35 million people, and over the course of the next six years (by the time the brackets finally landed at 64) averaged 30 million a year.

In fact, 16 years later, right up until the 1994 finals between Arkansas and Duke, the NCAA sustained a 30 million viewership for its final showdown.  

It wasn't until 1995 that the game began to see a precipitous decline in overall witnesses of the championship game. (Coincidentally, this is the exact time the Internet began to take off. Additionally, 1979 was the year ESPN originated. Just food for thought.)

Spanning the subsequent 15 years, from 1995 to 2009, the NCAA Championship game drew in an average of 22 million people.  

Why the tournament lost eight million viewers on its final night is beyond me. A quick suggestion would be the competition of the actual game. If this is true, wouldn't adding 32 more teams that wouldn't qualify under the current format worsen the possibility of a good final?  

Actually, it strengthens the chances of the best teams reaching the finish line. With 96, the structure would consist of adding the additional 32 teams, essentially the top 32, to a first round bye. This enables the elite to be the strongest towards the end, and the not-so-great, the ones playing an extra game along the way, to be the weakest.  

Furthermore, think about it. A 16 seed has never defeated a No. 1.  A 15 seed has only beaten a No. 2 four times. Basically, remove the poor match-ups early on, and the NCAA gets a better overall product, and we the fan get better games at the cost of an additional round.  

But withering the field down to the best isn't always the greatest formula for success. In 2008 (the only year since the field expanded to 64 that all four No. 1 seeds prevailed to the Final Four), the championship game drew in 19 million viewers.   

So at this point, from the NCAA's perspective, the thinking behind an additional 32 teams widens the fan base and attracts a larger audience. Add on more schools interested at the onset, and your chances of keeping those same fans around for the end increases.  

On the flip side, though, from the fans' point-of-view, adding an extra 32 teams compromises the integrity of the regular season, and dilutes what it means to "make it to the dance."   

Are we willing to forgo meaningful regular season games all for three weeks in March?

In contemplating all these factors, on the surface it appears as though 96 is better. But personally, explain to me how the scheduling would work. Because 16 games on Day 1 and another 16 on Day 2, both being Thursday and Friday of Week 1, works for me.  

When would that added round be? Tuesday before the start of the tournament? (Show me the ratings of the current play-in game on Tuesday night.)

No thanks!

As for the students, one more game simply means one more night of no classes in March. There are greater problems the NCAA faces from a student-athlete debate than one extra day of no classes. If you're deciding to favor expansion or not, please do not use this argument. Simply put: it holds no water.  

Finally, as noted, the finances of expansion are way too complex to analyze, and quite frankly, not worth it. The tournament is about heart, and taking home six consecutive games en route to a title. Whether a University makes money, or CBS negotiates a larger contract, is useless in my mind.

In the end, I've weighed the options many times over in my head. When it all boils down, I feel that if it ain't broke, then don't fix it. There are always going to be teams that don't make the tournament, and there is always going to be team No. 65 that feels slighted.

But where does it end?

If you add 32 more now, team 97 will be unhappy.  

Look, the tournament is perfectly structured the way it is: Thursday through Sunday for Week 1; Thursday through Sunday for Week 2; Saturday and Monday for the Final Four.

When you begin rewriting the definition of March Madness, you risk losing its identity.

And once it's gone, it'll never come back.

I digested his remark, while I demurred slightly with my reluctance to cast him as the “greatest” ever because of the advantageous nature of playing half his career in a dome, and contemplated it some more.

After further thought and a little research, I offer you my conclusion here.

This Sunday, in Super Bowl XLIV, Manning looks to capture his second championship.  If successful, he’ll join a quarterback class of multiple Super Bowl winners: Bart Starr, Bob Griese, Roger Staubach, Terry Bradshaw, Jim Plunkett, Joe Montana, Troy Aikman, John Elway, Tom Brady, and Ben Roethlisberger. 

Of course, holding multiple Super Bowl trophies doesn’t automatically grant a quarterback the title of “greatest of all time.”  If it did, Joe Montana and Terry Bradshaw, who each possess four Lombardi Trophies, would already be awarded this honor.  It is needed, however, as qualification for the conservation.

Regardless of the skills required to excel at the position, there are telling statistics that jump off the page when analyzing a quarterback.  Since all quarterbacks are made differently, comparisons using the standard metrics of touchdowns and interceptions, or even yards thrown, are hopeless endeavors. 

Instead, there are more indicative numbers that shall benefit our discussion. 

To begin with, because I raised the issue of Peyton Manning’s home field advantage, it would stand to reason that we should assess the other half of his career, as well as other Super Bowl winning quarterbacks, on the road.    

Here are the most notables. 

The first number represents each quarterback’s road winning percentage, followed by their playoff road record, then finally the number of road championship games they’ve won:

Montana—0.747, 2-4, 1
Brady—0.683, 2-3, 2
Manning—0.635, 2-4, 0
Roethlisberger—0.605, 3-0, 1
Bradshaw—0.500, 2-3, 1
Aikman—0.469, 2-4, 1
Elway—0.461, 3-3, 2

According to this measure, Manning doesn’t even crack the top two, especially because he’s yet to win a road championship game (he’s 0-1).  But these numbers do not tell the whole story.   

There are also the quarterback ratings for the same group, both home and away, which in some cases provide evidence of successful play, regardless of the outcome.   

They are as follows:

                       Home          Away
Manning            89.9          112.6
Roethlisberger    98.2          103.2
Montana           76.2           90.2
Brady              109.2           81.7
Elway              118.1           65.2
Aikman             90.8            36.5
Bradshaw          N/A            N/A

Judging by these numbers, Manning not only successfully orchestrates his offense at home, he marches them down the field to a tune of 23 more points on the road. 

But before we move on to the clinching statistic that will unveil our verdict, let’s appease those who desire the basics. 

Out of our seven quarterbacks being scrutinized, for their careers, Manning’s thrown 66 more TDs than second place Elway, almost 10,000 more yards than second place Montana, holds a point and a half higher completion percentage (64.8) than the rest of the pack, and leads everyone in QB rating with a 95.2. 

Nevertheless, the most convincing achievement is Manning’s ability to produce in the fourth quarter, both when trailing or tied. 

Manning’s QB rating when his Colts are trailing is a 109.9; when tied it’s a 108.8.  And although Joe Montana has the highest QB rating when his teams were tied (113.9), he had a 71.6 rating when they were trailing, which helps illustrate Manning’s worthiness. 

What’s more, even John Elway, who had a knack for leading two-minute-drive comebacks, posted a career 84.2 when his Broncos were behind.   

So in conclusion, it isn’t the fact that Peyton Manning can step up to the line, recognize the defense, and then call an appropriate play that makes him the leader at his position.  It’s that he executes and embodies the entire essence of what a quarterback is: intelligence, accuracy, arm strength, devotion to chemistry with teammates, and of course, an understanding of the defense.    

The Indianapolis Colts have won 12 games for seven consecutive seasons.  Whether they’re behind, tied, on the road or in a dome, they can always turn to their general—Peyton Manning.  

If he can seize his second Super Bowl on Sunday evening, he will become, at least for now, “the greatest of all time.” 

In 2007, I had a sports' dilemma of deciding between cheering for a historic witnessing of a Patriots' 19-0 season, or a hometown championship shocker for the New York Giants.  I chose the latter and was rewarded with one of the most memorable Super Bowls ever.

Now, just two years later, the 2009 New York Jets are officially vying for my fan hood, if only temporarily.  

Before I support my position, allow me to rebut any claim of "jumping on the bandwagon."  Because according to my definition, jumping on the bandwagon consists of pretending to understand forty years of disappointment.  

I shall not even begin to make such a naive stance. 

Instead, it's my belief that, as a fan, witnessing your team capture a championship is exhilarating and should be felt by all.  I'm not attempting to live vicariously through a Jets' Super Bowl victory; I only intend to pool my energies together with the diehards in the hopes of bringing something magical to their lives.  

As for the J-E-T-S, who have the unfortunate shared-occupancy lifestyle, there are many that have hatred for their fans.  

Why?

To those that do, do you honestly feel your methods of celebrating are any more sophisticated, or humble than others?  I'm here to inform you that they are not.

Sure, there's the exception to every rule, but as a majority, all fans are obnoxious in their own way and probably hated on some level by any opposing counter.  It's every fans' right. (And for that matter, every fan has the right to root for a local team for the sake of wanting to cast jubilation upon them.) 

Even as a Yankees' fan, I know the arrogance that exudes from the pores of 55,000 New Yorkers as a Boston Red Sox takes the field at Yankee Stadium.  Sports are about passion and subjectivity; I'm not denying that.

I am, rather, requesting that as a passionate sports fan, you remove your guard and cheer for your local fan base as if it were your own.  I promise it'll be worth it.

But here's the key to maximizing the experience:

Don't pretend to be one of the crowd.  Just stand afar from the pack, yet still engulfing your emotions in the battle. 

Perhaps Jets' fans do not want your support.  Fine.  But offer it anyway.  If you're at a bar with a friend who happens to be living and dying with every play call, slap him a high five when his team does well.  Don't, however, offer commiseration when his team doesn't.

I've had good fortune with my sports' interests.  And for that, some might argue that it's easy for me to lay such a ludicrous expectation on others. 

If that's the case, then so be it. 

But I'll admit to one secret.  Prior to 2004, it was my feeling that even a Boston Red Sox fan should have the satisfaction of being overwhelmed with the joy of a title. (For the record, though, I never thought they should be treated to two.)

So regardless of if your team wins nothing in twenty years, or three in four, do the right thing. 

For every enthusiastic sports fan that hopes this year's the year his team will bring it home, root for them. 

For the guy you grew up with, the one you haven't seen in fifteen years but always could remember his fan hood, root for them. 

For the guy you see around town sporting the worn out local hat, root for them.  

For the couple who own season tickets, tailgate to every home game, and raise their children to one day do the same, root for them. 

For the elderly fan that waves the sign that reads, "Now I can die in peace," root for them. 

For the grown men who plan on crying when their team finally wins it all, root for them. 

Come this Sunday, even if you believe the Jets, Colts, Saints, or Vikings have little chance in their respective games because you do not bleed the colors they wear, but live within ear shot of their battle cries, root for them. 

Frankly, what do you have to lose?    

It took me a few days to process the magnitude of what Tiger Woods admitted to, when he professed his rumored "transgressions."  And although it has taken me almost two weeks to decide where I stand, I still feel as though his actions, and the impact they'll have on the game of golf and fans of athletes in general, have not yet fully sunk in.

Does Tiger Woods owe me, or anyone else for that matter an explanation of what happened outside his Windermere, FL home?  No.  Just because we buy the products he endorses, or swing the equipment he uses does not entitle us to the intimacies of his relationships, plural. 

Unfortunately, the true consequence is the damage done to the sport he plays, which prospered with each successful moment Tiger attained.  

Regardless of the steps Woods takes to repair his image, it's too late to recapture the casual fans, the ones who tune in on Sunday to witness Tiger walk another eighteen on his way to yet another championship.      

Personally, my admiration for his athletic abilities will never waver.  He still performs a game that eludes the majority of us at a level we're unable to fathom.  His personal life has always been private to most.  And for that, it isn't difficult to separate the before and after of this still unfolding story.  

But for the fan that was attracted to golf because of what Tiger embodied: focus, determination, and of course, family, they're gone.  And they ain't coming back.  For all the wives of golf fans that sat watching on Sunday afternoons simply because Tiger was in hunt, their interest has officially expired.  

Don't get me wrong.  I feel no sympathy for Tiger Woods.  I do, however, feel sad for the game of golf and sports as a whole.  Living in the era that we do, where athletes' finances are so superior to most occupations, provides an element of immortality for the elite competitors of sports.

This enables leagues or associations to market their lead figures in such an iconic way that any accomplishment they attain elevates their respective sport to enormous levels.  

Tiger Woods will win championships and, who knows, perhaps become more inspired to break Jack Nicklaus' majors record of 18 sooner than he planned.  But the lead up to this task has been altered in such a way that history will have no choice but to tarnish the journey.  

Tiger Woods lost face when he crashed his SUV outside his home. 

But golf lost its ambassador.  

We know what the critics are saying: "It's been nine whole years since the poor Yankees last tasted victory."

And in some respect, it's true.  

Fans of the New York Yankees are spoiled to be given a competitive team year in and year out.  But so what.  Fans of other teams are simply resentful and jealous that it isn't their team attempting to win every title.

But wait a second.  The Yankees don't win every title.  So what's all the fuss about?

Just because the Yankees spend money to win - you know, the whole point of sports in the first place - doesn't guarantee them a title (as the last nine years have proven).

Personally, there are friends in my life that are Red Sox fans, Phillies fans and Mets fans.  But bitterness is never a flavor I experience.  Maybe it's because, up until last night, four titles in five years provided me with a palate immune to resentment.

When the Red Sox won their first title, this writer was respectful of their championship, even though they did it in historic fashion over the Yankees.  

When the Phillies theirs, same thing.  Even when the Mets, a team situated on a fellow-neighboring borough of Manhattan, fell one pitch away from making an appearance in the World Series, I rooted the Metropolitans on.  

It's my feeling that every fan should have the opportunity to experience the taste of victory.

Five years later, and two championships, you would think Red Sox fans would have the decency to sit back quietly, respecting what it takes to win it all. 

But no.

Let's keep things in perspective here.  The Sox sought Alex Rodriguez.  They dangled large amounts of money (although seemingly not enough) in the eyes of Mark Teixeira.  And don't dare claim they didn't want CC Sabathia this off season.

But because they couldn't wrangle them in, they're once again bitter.

The adage goes: It isn't a rivalry until both teams win.  

Well, now that the Sox have captured their glory, and the Yankees once again theirs, the battle resumes.

But we digress.

For now, the New York Yankees are champions.  

In six games, the best team of 2009 showed what it took to win.  No one made predictions.  They simply went out and played ball.  They hit, they pitched, they fielded, and they did it all with purpose.

Say what you may about the boys from the Bronx.  But if your team woke up today as World Series Champions, I would say congratulations!

Is it the heat of the battle that causes us to rest on the edge of our seats, as grown men - having nothing to do with our personal lives - compete for victory?

Is it that sports - the same ones we participated in as kids and were eventually unable to perform at the highest level - enable us to hold onto our youth?   

On a given day, thousands of fans dress themselves in team-favorite jerseys in order to display particular fanhoods.  And throughout a sporting event, emotions will sway, cursing will ensue, and a winner and loser will affect two sides.  

But for fans, especially the diehard, sports play a pivotal role in how we go about our day.  If the game is on, everything else takes a back seat.  (Except for our wives!)

Considering all this, I needed an explanation.  So I decided to reach out to some dedicated sports junkies and simply ask.

Here are some findings:

Why do fans wear paraphernalia?

Reasons ranged from wanting a feeling of knowing "that everyone ... will know where I stand," to "It's gameday.  If I don't, is a win possible?"

Or...

"If I didn't, would the players on the field really know whether they were home or away?"  I wasn't really sure if this was a serious response, but if it was, god bless the devotion.  

On the day of a big game, the actual participants experience emotions like nervousness, peacefulness or anticipation.

But for the fans, the ones sitting idly by:

"One word, zone.  If I get into the zone before my team, there's no way they can fail."  

Or...

"Urgency.  I can't wait for the puck to drop."  

When pressed to know why, this last comment stoked this:

"Because when my team lights the lamp ... my stomach tingles like the goal and the moment were mine.  And I can't wait for that feeling."

But the most informative sincerity came from a fan of the World Champion Philadelphia Phillies:

"Honestly, when the Phils are playing, all reality escapes me.  I get the feeling ... all that matters is me and the nine guys on the field.  There could be a hurricane going on around me, but as long as the game's still on television, I'm at peace.  My world starts and ends with the Phils.  Call me what you may, but it's what gets me up during the baseball season."

(Imagine what this guy's feeling now that the Phillies are seeking back-to-back titles.)  

But what if his Phils don't win?

Of the emotions some fans experience when their team fails to produce a victory, the most popular was devastation.  

A close second - worthless.  

Some honorable mentions: gut wrenching, sick, angry, and the most alarming, "I feel ... angry enough to probably choke someone."  

Having considered these disheartening feelings and then wondering why we put ourselves through this torture, the impossible question naturally surfaced: How long could we go without sports?

"Are you kidding me?  I would take a crushing defeat over not being able to watch a game."

(Not me.)  

"Two days, max.  Any longer and I'll have to watch those Super Bowl highlights ESPN has on during the month of January."

(By the way, I love those!)

Finally...

"Whether it's poker, bass fishing, X Games or women's basketball, I need sports."  

As for me, I can handle poker as a sport.  But watching bass fishing on television is like observing an accountant doing my taxes.  No thank you!

But hey, I guess if you like competition then a sport's a sport.  

Nevertheless, whether these excerpts provided you any insight into why fans are so loyal to their teams is beyond the point. 

Fans root for sports the way religious folk attend a service; It gives them meaning.  It offers purpose to know our teams are there each night, waiting for us to scream, holler, cheer, cry, curse, hug, high five, inhale in disappointment or exhale in jubilation.  

On the morning of a big game, I personally wake up knowing I'm going to be entertained with greatness.  This isn't to say I've mastered the art of watching my team lose, because my wife will attest that I haven't.  

But regardless of the outcome, sports is my life.  I enjoy athletes performing magical moments and writing history right in front of my eyes.

Why are fans so enthusiastic about sports?  

Because we love em.   

Come Week One of the NFL season, markets which produce both baseball and football see a change in viewership, as MLB fans quickly shift their attention toward the NFL. 

It's understandable to see this pattern in areas like Kansas City, Cincinnati or Pittsburgh, where their respective teams are, for the most part, not in contention by September.  

In major markets like New York and Boston, however, where the Yankees and Red Sox consistently prepare for October, fan interest drops off just as dramatically in the last month of the baseball calendar. 

For the true fan whose team will be competing in October, their attention will refocus.  But for the casual fan, the one that most sports depend on for added viewership, seasons like MLB's 2009 could become an issue.

So rather than sit by idly, MLB needs to be proactive. 

Last year at this time, the Red Sox were within three of Tampa Bay; Minnesota and Chicago were neck and neck (they ended up playing a one-game playoff); the Mets were fighting for their wild card and divisional lives; and the Diamondbacks were only two games behind the Dodgers.  

Fast forward to this year and the Yankees are 8.5 up on the Sox, who are six up on the Rangers in the wild card, who are six behind the Angels for the division.  In the NL, the Phillies are five up on the Braves; the Cardinals are 8.5 up on the Cubs; and the Dodgers are five up on the Rockies.  

The only two races worth watching are the Tigers and Twins, separated by two games; as well as the Rockies and Braves divided by 2.5.

Reacting to the current criticism the game is facing, MLB aims to prove this year an anomaly.  

They responded with the following:

   -From 2001-2008, only the Yankees, Red Sox and Cardinals have made it to the World Series more than once. 

   -In this time, of the 30 MLB teams, 23 made the playoffs.  In three of the six divisions, every team but one made it to October (AL Central, AL West & NL East) and in a fourth, the NL West, all five teams moved on to the post-season, including three World Series runs.    

   -From 2005-2006, only one team in both leagues made the playoffs back-to-back. (Not surprisingly, the Yankees.)

But parity isn't MLB's main concern.

The sport has seen variety in October, sure.  But in a season of 162 games, when the casual fan decides to tune in with the hopes of catching exciting, down-to-the-wire baseball, if the product is suffering down the stretch, further revisions may be necessary.

Since most complain about the length of the season anyway, shorten it back to 154 games.  Include two additional wild card teams per league (three total) and structure it according to the NFL standard - top two get a first round bye and so on.

If this system were in place this year, we'd see the Mariners, Twins and Rays all within two games of the final spot with the Rangers holding a four game lead for the fifth position.

In the NL, the Braves would hold a 2.5 game lead for the fifth slot, with the Marlins, Giants and Cubs jockeying for the sixth, all separated by only 1.5 games.

This suggestion may sound like it would water down the prospect of making the post-season, but so did the initial wild card format when it was implemented in 1994.  And for that matter, the thought of adding two division winners per league probably didn't go over so well when first conceived in 1969.  

In order to survive, leagues need to evolve. 

Eventually, more than one wild card per league will become essential for MLB to do just that.