OK, fine. I’ll chime in on The Armando Galarraga Saga.

Everyone who has a pulse knows what happened last night.

We know he was robbed of a perfect game.

We know umpire Jim Joyce blew the call at first base.

We know the two have since hugged and made up.

We know MLB will not reverse the call and give Galarraga the perfect game. There are no do-overs in baseball. What happens happens, and unless it’s a disputed home run call, don’t even think about instant replay.

The big discussion now centers on whether or not MLB will utilize instant replay for more than just home runs.

I say no way.

Take a look at the Internet buzz today. Lots of blogs on the biggest blown calls through the years and what not. Lots of repetition. Lots of Don Denkinger references.

My point is that blown calls are rare and even more rare is that they decide the outcome of what could have been a historic moment like Galarraga’s gem last night.

Tigers manager Jim Leyland talked of the human element of baseball in his post-game presser and I believe that’s why that makes baseball the greatest game on the planet.

In hockey, did the puck cross the line? Not sure, so let’s call Toronto. In football, was his knee down before he fumbled? No idea, so let’s go look at the play under a tent.

Baseball has been played under the same rules for more than 100 years and there is no need for change. Maybe the $100 million yuppies trying to pad their stats might think so, but to real traditionalists like myself, put the instant replay blabber aside.

I read one column that said the blown call will make Galarraga famous because people will remember that his outing was “the one where the ump made the wrong call at first.” I agree.

Galarraga, though, showed impressive class by simply smiling at Joyce after the call and went on and finished his one-hitter. He even met with Joyce after the game and forgave him, saying that nobody’s perfect, but that he knows he pitched a perfect game, even if it isn’t officially the 21^st one ever, third this season and first-ever in Tigers history.

To Joyce’s credit, he also faced the Tigers as he left the field and even had his chin up as he faced the media throng after the game and admitted his wrong.

I can’t say I would have been that calm. Heck, I was in my living room and I’m pretty sure the furniture cringed as it readied itself for unceremonious tossing into the entertainment center. My blood pressure may have also gone up a few notches.

In Detroit lore, sure, we all remember Jack Morris’ no-hitter in 1984, but diehards also remember Milt Wilcox retiring the first 26 a year earlier only to lose his perfect game on a Jerry Hairston liner up the middle.

I also remember Bobby Higginson breaking up a Roy Halladay no-no back in the 1990s with two outs in the ninth.

Had last night’s game been decided by a clean hit, fine. The fans would have given Galarraga a standing ‘O’ and we would have moved on. But the fact that it was a close play at first that ruined perfection, well, I can see where some fans are more than bummed.

You can also play the “What If?” game. What if the come-backer in the fifth inning ruined the perfect game? Or what if the deep drive to center field in the top of the ninth either carried out or went off the wall? (Thank you, Austin Jackson, by the way). What if Galarraga bobbled the ball at first? What if Miguel Cabrera had thrown wild to first?

What if these diehards that are whining endlessly about this because it seemingly has a bearing on their life would just shut their mouths? Ya ever think of that? Do people cry about it because they have nothing else going on in their lives? Most likely.

The people starting all the Facebook “Fire Jim Joyce” pages need to just chill for a second and go on living. Joyce has. Galarraga has. Heck, I think Leyland only smoked two packs last night after the game.

I learned one time that you can’t change the past, but that you can make the future better.

On that note, I’m pulling for Galarraga to go out his next start and set down all 27 hitters with no hint of controversy. The odds are extremely NOT in his favor, but who’s to say that it won’t happen?

We just need to move on, people. Move right along.

Baseball players are the most highly-paid athletes on the planet, yet they continue to show that they are also the biggest whiners amongst athletes and the ones that suffer injuries any other athlete would play through.

In other words, MLB players are prima donnas.

Take for instance what happened Saturday night in Anaheim. Kendry Morales hits a walk-off grand slam, yet breaks his leg jumping on home plate.

Are you kidding me? After the game, Angels GM Tony Reagins gave an interview on local TV and said that this should make MLB teams look at how they celebrate

Earlier in the game, Torii Hunter gets hit on the wrist by a pitch and after team officials, umpires, select fans, broadcasters and probably Barack Obama himself check on Hunter, he gets pulled.

Hockey players play through broken legs (cough, Steve Yzerman, cough) and concussions, yet they don’t take a paid leave.

That said, the liner Indians pitcher took off his melon Saturday night probably hurt. I’ll give him that. I mean, come on. The post-game report from the team said he had no brain damage or memory loss.

Then we have the Alex Rodriguez-Dallas Braden feud that is nothing short of two hicks arguing over property lines in the country sticks.

We’ve read and probably saw what happened. A-Rod (the same guy who once batted a ball out of a fielder’s glove and yelled at another to drop a pop-up) ran across the pitcher’s mound returning to first base after a foul ball and Braden promised to do nothing short of threaten the wannabe Yankee’s life.

A-Rod retorted by saying that because he’s A-Rod and because he’s part of the Yuppie Yankees, he is entitled to do whatever he wants. I believe he also may have mentioned that he makes in salary in one at-bat that most people make in about 18 months. Rodriguez also claimed to not know who Braden was, but I’m sure he knows now after he tossed perfection on Mother’s Day.

This also gets me – shouldn’t ball players make an attempt to be in some kind of shape? Pitchers I can see because they don’t run, they don’t catch infield pop-ups, they try and swing the bat, they walk off the field and they think they know the strike zone better than the umps.

Fine, pitchers are excused from cardio exercises. Even CC Sabathia. Then again, he’s a Yankee, so he gets a different set of rules, including the age-old mustache-only regulation.

The worst ever was Rich Garces, a pitcher nicknamed “El Guapo.” Never heard of him? Just Google the fat cat. Just prepare to vomit. Bartolo Colon and Carlos Silva also come to mind, and even David Wells.

But why does Prince Fielder get to look like he belongs in pro wrestling under a mask known as “The Big Blob?” Miguel Cabrera, Ronnie Belliard, the real Pudge Rodriguez, Adam Dunn, Matt Stairs (is he still playing?) and that panda dude in San Francisco all look like they should be playing slow-pitch softball on Sunday mornings with their kids watching from behind the backstop.

However, baseball players are no different than other athletes when it comes to discussing money. All athletes claim that sports no longer exist and that it’s all a business now. They want $35 million over three years instead of $30 million over four years. I know, make as most coin as you can in the shortest amount of time. Isn’t that the American dream?

I guess.

There are positives in baseball these days – Roy Halladay’s perfect game Saturday night, Negro League throwback uniforms, Joe Mauer, freebies for kids at all the ballparks, any time the Yankees lose, listening to Vin Scully, remembering Ernie Harwell, making fun of Bud Selig any time he gives an interview, I could go on and on.

But I can’t.

I have to go treat an on-set of Carpal Tunnel Syndrome from typing this column. I’ll be listed day-to-day and will try not to grimace and whine about the pain every five minutes.

Why are there still fans of WWE?

I haven’t watched an entire WWE show in years.

No Raw, no SmackDown, no nothing.

And for good reason. The current product is nothing like us old school buffs remember it. With Linda McMahon trying to live a real life outside of the kayfabe world of pro wrestling, her old man’s WWE is now a glorified entertainment show with a sprinkling of actual in-ring action.

Vince McMahon has banned chair shots and blood and all shows are now rated PG. While some contemporary fans that simply spend countless days posting on message boards proclaiming why they know certain results and why certain wrestlers are getting pushed love the new WWE, I have to question these kids’ sanity.

I admit, though, that pro wrestling has changed with the times, but it’s not even called wrestling any more. Wrestlers are “Superstars,” the women wrestlers are “Divas,” referees aren’t mentioned by name and wrestling itself is “sports entertainment.”

Boooooooring!

Maybe because I turn 32 in June and I grew up during the 1980s boom and later during the Attitude era, I can’t stand today’s garbage. I know I’m not alone.

These days, title belts change hands every 22 minutes, feuds last just a little more than a weekend and the Internet has spoiled any secrets the company has ever had.

And this current day trash isn’t just limited to WWE. Take a look at TNA and what Hulk Hogan has done with that company. He’s trying to reclaim some personal nWo glory from 1996 WCW and many fans today have only read about WCW and really have no clue what it once was, even back when Hogan turned heel and nearly incited a riot at the ’96 Bash at the Beach pay-per-view.

But there is hope, folks.

If you’re searching for real wrestling and real wrestlers, I suggest you check out Ring Of Honor. Still a small-time promotion with a smattering of fans, I can admit I’m one of them. ROH has World title status, a time slot on Monday nights and in a 60-minute show, probably about 45 minutes of in-ring action. The backstage skits are very limited, interviews actually build and start feuds and the blood flows and the bodies fly.

ROH has superstars of indy circuits from across the country, including World champ Tyler Black, Austin Aries, Roderick Strong, Kevin Steen, El Generico, Steve Corino, The Necro Butcher, Chris Hero, Davey Richards, Eddie Edwards, Claudio Castagnoli and The Briscoe Brothers.

These names may be unfamiliar to most, but after I saw a ROH show live back three years ago, I was hooked. There is no BS here. No fluff. No scripts. Just get in the ring and go.

ROH has also been the lifting-off point for several of today's WWE and TNA stars, like CM Punk, Daniel Bryan (Bryan Danielson), Samoa Joe, Homicide and Christopher Daniels.

I still call myself a wrestling fan, but I use the term loosely. WWE and TNA are not wrestling promotions. They are entertainment conglomerates and nothing more. Money makers for sure, but ROH is money in my book.

Monday night, here I come!

Hulk Hogan just can’t keep his ego out of the spotlight, can he?

It’s not enough he was the biggest draw in pro wrestling history.

Hasn’t the Hulkster ever heard the phrase about knowing to quit when you’re ahead?

His movies bombed, his reality show was terrible, his son forgot how to drive, Linda ditched the family and now, Hogan has joined the WWE’s biggest competitor, TNA.

It won’t matter, though if Brooke joins the Knockouts division, that may peak some interest. But that’s a pipe dream, guys.

Hogan has gone on the record many times in the past six weeks or so saying that he is going to change TNA, give WWE a run for its money and be the man behind the scenes.

Sat it ain’t so, Hulk, even if your soon-to-be-wife is about 40 years younger than you. (Good for him, eh?)

He’s also said he wants to change the fact that writers script every last breath of a wrestling TV show and that needs to change. That I actually agree with.

Look, deep down, we’re all Hulkamaniacs. We all trained, took our vitamins and said our prayers. Heck, some of us even turned with you back in 1996 and gave up the red and yellow swag for nWo gear.

Now, it’s time to just look back, know you gave it your all, had it all, and fade into the shadows, Hulkster. Please, we loved you in the ‘80s and we loved you in the ‘90s, but your ego loves itself far more than any of that.

Give it a rest.

Then again, let’s look at the flip-side of this whole TNA deal.

There are a heck of a lot of fans jumping off the WWE bandwagon these days, yours truly included. Most diehards that are off the wagon yearn for the good ol’ days of Hogan, Randy “Macho Man” Savage, The Ultimate Warrior, Andre the Giant, and the list goes on and on.

Maybe, just maybe, the arrival of Hogan in an on-screen wrestling role will being those people out of hiding and learn to like the business again.

I admit – I may watch the TNA iMPACT! show on January 4 to see what Hogan brings to the table as yes, I was a Hulkamaniac back in the day. I even had a poster in my room of Hogan wearing that helmet with the fist on top. I was that hardcore, yes.

So we’ll see what happens, but even with me being the eternal optimist, I can’t see WWE being worried about any competition these days.

Then again, this is the same company that just had some Irish dude named Sheamus beat John Cena, everybody’s favorite WWE star, for the championship last Sunday at an event called “Tables, Ladders & Chairs.”

Didn’t see it. Didn’t care.

On January 4 – maybe I’ll care again.

Maybe.

I am such a fan of Chad Ochocinco that I am going to change my name to Matt Diezyocho.

Then, I’m going to get a Twitter account and tell my dozens of fans what I am doing every waking minute, including what I read in the can, what thoughts go through my head as I mow the lawn and what we bought at the grocery store.

After that, seeing as how Ochocinco is now going into the broadcast journalism field to leak NFL news to his 300,000 or so followers on Twitter, I am going to start up a news website and leak family gossip to all the world. If it’s true or not, that’s not the point. I am just going to do this for unnecessary attention.

Isn’t that why The Player Formerly Known As Chad Johnson changed his name to his jersey number in the first place?

This clown is one of the growing problems with millionaire athletes. As if the ridiculous contracts weren’t bad enough, some of these guys want to be bigger than the sport they play and crave more and more attention off the field.

Whatever happened to players getting positive press for having a good game, or giving to a charity, or visiting sick children? That’s non-existent these days. A team player is a rarity.

And TPFKACJ is just the latest, and possibly worst, example, of why I refuse to put my hard-earned dollars into buying pro sports tickets. If I get freebies, sure, I’ll go. But to ask me to fork over a partial mortgage payment for three hours of whining, egotistical athletes-turned-wannabe-celebrities, well, there’s no chance.

When I watch a game in any sport, I expect to see competition. Nowadays, count the number of times in games a player or coach will argue with a referee, umpire, etc. It’s way too many. The players all make too much damn money and yet still aren’t satisfied.

Players also have more demands these days that I want to vomit. Whoever heard of players having clauses in their contracts that say they get a private jet? Or certain food on the road? Or God knows what else?

Pro sports teams aren’t teams any longer. They were, maybe back 30 years ago, but not now. “Teams” now are simply a collection of arrogant, selfish guys that are in it for the money. If a championship is won along the way, they’ll let you know it was all because of them. If they don’t win, it’s someone else’s fault.

So now, as I head off to be with the rest of the Diezyocho family, I’d think twice if I were you about paying top dollar for a pro sports event where the heroes you’re watching are ripping you off.

Thinka about it, people. Just think.

Phil Kessel is a 21-year-old spoiled brat.

After playing the past three years with the Boston Bruins, Kessel told GM Peter Chiarelli over the summer that he no longer wanted to play in Boston. Fine.

That said, however, comes the fact that HE IS ONLY 21. I could see if Kessel was a grizzled veteran with just a few years left and no Stanley Cup and he wanted to play for a contender, but come on. HE'S 21.

This past week, Kessel's rights (he was a restricted free agent) were traded to Toronto and the Maple Leafs quickly signed him to a five-year deal. All that means is that in two years, he'll find a reason to want out of Canada and demand a trade to a contender. Mark my words - Kessel will not stay in Toronto until the end of the 2013-2014 season. Just watch.

Back when Kessel was playing for the United States National Team Development Program, he had a press conference to announce where he would be playing college hockey. Being from Wisconsin, most felt he'd wind up with the Badgers. Not so, as Kessel picked Minnesota.

Then, when Kessel scored his first NCAA goal for the Gophers (against Wisconsin no less), he held his hand up to his ear to soak up the boos from the Wisconsin crowd. A talent? Yes. A hot dog? Absolutely.

Once he was a first-round pick of the Bruins in 2006, Kessel gave up his remaining three years of eligibility for the riches of the NHL. But last year, he missed a chunk of time undergoing treatment for cancer.

And the Bruins supported him every step of the way. Kessel even won the Bill Masterton Award for perseverance at the 2008 NHL Awards.

A year later, he wants out.

Good luck in Canada, Phil. See you back in the States before you're 25.

Selfish professional athletes are nothing new in the world of sports, but do you know what? Sometimes, I wish someone had these guys under wraps to tell them to shut their mouths and realize they don’t live a realistic life.

Only a small fraction of people, much less athletes, live in a dream world where money is not an issue, paying the mortgage was done in cash at signing and the idea of work is swinging a bat, dunking a basketball, ripping a slap shot or jumping to catch a pig skin.

Yet, it’s these spoiled sons of you-know-whats that complain the most about life not being fair.

Take the Dany Heatley situation north of the border with the Ottawa Senators.

Seems he’s not the best player on the Ottawa ice, so he wants to be traded to a team (only a select few will he approve, however) where he will be the lone player to score, hog the glory and grab the most headlines.

Heatley, who said he requested the trade due to his decreased role the past two seasons, will be a huge distraction with the Sens this year if he’s not traded in the next month. He has a hefty contract most teams don’t want to deal with, plus with his whining about his well-being in Ottawa, he’s showing the words “team player” don’t apply to him.

What’s sad about this is that six short years ago, Heatley was driving his souped-up sports car down in Atlanta while with the Thrashers and crashed it, injuring himself and killing teammate Dan Snyder. While people mourned the loss of Snyder, Heatley was seemingly forgiven for being a reckless driver because he apologized and said Snyder was a good friend. The puppy dog eyes won people over and the general public chalked up the accident to just that – an oopsie.

Then two years later, Heatley, who at the end of the day is one of the NHL’s top 10 talents, said he wanted out of Atlanta because of all the baggage from the Snyder situation and probably also that the team has nothing going for it in terms of ever winning a Stanley Cup.

So the trade was made sending Heatley, Atlanta’s top pick (second overall) in the 2000 draft, to Ottawa for their former first-round pick, Marian Hossa. Heatley thrived in Canada’s capital, twice scoring 50 goals and tallying 180 over his four years there.

But then this summer, the griping started and the demands came flooding in. Heatley even went as far to say that the trade request was made in private and wasn’t meant to be displayed for public consumption.

Dany Boy, in this age of technology, I’m afraid nothing is ever private or secret. Nothing. We know where you go shopping, where you eat, where you live and how many cars you have. Even how many trade requests you’ve made which by my count is now up to a pair.

I guess the point and example I’m trying to make of Heatley is that with all the criticism the media and public take out on the three major sports (MLB, NFL, NBA), “those guys” do exist in the NHL.

Seems Canada isn’t so perfect after all. Even in the capital city.

I wrote last week about what’s wrong with pro wrestling, so in the spirit of being fair, this week I’ll try and detail the positives about pro wrestling circa 2009.

Admittedly, I do not watch pro wrestling as much as I did in my youth. In fact, I can’t even recall the last time I watched an entire show or pay-per-view.

That said, I do know that with WWE going to a PG-rated slant and going more to an entertainment product rather than a sports/wrestling product, fans under 25 seem to be pumped. Maybe that’s because they have no idea of wrestling’s rich history, but I cannot make that assumption.

I also know that with the current crop of wrestlers, er, entertainers/performers, like John Cena, Randy Orton and Triple H, the fans really have a sense of who the “good guy” is and who the “villain” is. Seeing young children in the crowd cheering or having a meltdown is a sight to behold and actually reminds me of how I was back some 20 years ago.

Merchandise sales are also reportedly at an all-time high. T-shirts, even at $25 a pop, seem to sell extremely well, as do pay-per-view DVDs and documentary DVDs. I’m guilty of the latter, as buying the compilation DVDs, both TNA and WWE, especially of past years i.e. the Starrcade DVD, Greatest Stars of the ‘90s and Mr. Perfect DVD, seem to be a vice of mine.

Another example of how wrestling is alive and well I experienced a little more than two years ago at Ford Field for WrestleMania 23. Covering the event for SLAM! Wrestling, as I sat in the club-level seats, I had an epiphany. I sat there and wondered how far some of the fans had come, how much time and money some had spent and how for some, this was the highlight of their year and perhaps, their life.

The official attendance for the show was announced as 80,000 and some change, but, like WrestleMania III and the Pontiac Silverdome (where the announced 93,173 has been contested to be about 20,000 less), some believe the number to be drastically inflated.

Even so, seeing 60,000 at the home of the Detroit Lions, even if some went just for status increase (“Hey, what’d you do Sunday? Nothing, man. Just hung out at home. Oh yeah? I went to WrestleMania!”), made me smile a little bit.

One other positive I have found, and this touches on something I hit on earlier, is the fact that kids have a hero to look up to. Case in point – my almost-four-year-old son. I will say I don’t let him watch wrestling, but if we’re flipping through the channels and he sees a John Cena or The Undertaker, he lights up. Then I change the channel and I’m public enemy No. 1 just like that.

It’s easy to nitpick wrestling and see that it’s nowhere the global phenomenon it was way back when, but to find a happy side of the business, when you look past politics and the Internet, can really make one see that maybe not much has changed.

I tend to be the cynic and say that wrestling is garbage these days. And I stand by that. But as someone once wrote to me in an email, maybe it’s because the entertainment factor is for kids and them needing a superhero and once you grow out of that phase, it’s like realizing there is no Easter Bunny or Santa Claus.

Maybe so, but I do agree there is a positive side to the industry. It’s just not nearly as large of glaring as the negatives.

Professional wrestling just isn’t what it used to be.

No kidding, right? I know. I grew up a fan in the rock ‘n roll era in the 1980s when Hulkamania was running wild, brother. But now, to be very blunt, what the hell has happened?

First and foremost let me say that I am still a wrestling fan, just not of today’s horse and pony show. I am a fan of WRESTLING. I must admit, too, that I rarely watch any of Vince McMahon’s BS, TNA or even Ring Of Honor, though the latter has some legs as it definitely caters to WRESTLING fans.

The last time I tuned in to Monday Night Raw, we had more in-ring promos, backstage skits and upcoming pay-per-view previews than actual in-ring action. And when two (or four) guys (or gals) were actually wrestling, it was hard to tell who the face was and who the heel was. Back in the day, it was blatantly obvious who the hero was and who the villain was. Nowadays, the carny-type fans in attendance cheer whomever and boo whomever. And only because of what they read on the Internet.

Also, remember when it was a big deal when Hulk Hogan, or even Bruno Sammartino, lost the world title? It was national freaking news and people were actually stunned. These days, titles change hands (all eight or nine of them in WWE) more frequently than updates on the economy. Guys who have been in the WWE for just a short period of time (and who NO ONE knows anything about) get title pushes immediately.

And to touch on a previous thought, I also believe the Internet is killing the business. Fans know way ahead of time when a title will change hands, why a wrestler is leaving the company, scoops on pay-per-views, stuff like that. Then watching one of WWE’s shows is anti-climactic as you already know what’s on tap. Nothing comes as a surprise any longer.

That leads me to another topic – pay-per-view events. Remember when all we had were the Royal Rumble, WrestleMania, SummerSlam and the Survivor Series in the WWE/WWF and shows like Starrcade, The Great American Bash and SuperBrawl for WCW? Yeah, I do, too. Now it seems like there is a pay-per-view every weekend. How does that give the weekly shows any time to build a good feud? It doesn’t. And it’s boring now to see WWE recycling feuds again and again with stale players like Randy Orton, John Cena, Shawn Michaels, The Undertaker, Triple H, The Big Show and Batista. There is nothing to get excited for any more.

Which brings me to my final thought (and this has the potential to be a future column all its own down the road): Chris Benoit and WWE’s refusal to acknowledge he ever existed.

We all know what happened a little more than two years ago. Dude snapped and killed his wife, son and then himself. Sad? Yes. Tragic? You bet. A reason to erase the man from WWE’s record book? No way.

You can label Benoit a murderer, a coward, a ‘roid freak, whatever. Fine. I accept that. But for WWE and Vince to act as though he was never a multi-time champion, one of the best ever, and a legend in his own right, that’s where I disagree. Find me one past or present wrestler who worked with Benoit who can say he was a terrible wrestler. You won’t. When Benoit died, I was in a state of disbelief. Then came reports that he had the brain of an 80-year-old and he was on a drug kick. Great, but like Rob Van Dam said in an interview shortly after the Benoit tragedy, many guys are on steroids, but how many go out and kill their families?

Look at pro sports. When guys get wrapped up in crime, do time, commit murder, what have you, do they get banned for life and never mentioned again? Pete Rose. Banned from baseball forever, but still appears on MLB-produced programs. Sure, he didn’t kill anyone, but he did the crime, did the time and still appears as the all-time hits leader. MLB could have put an asterisk next to his name, but that won’t happen. Look at all the NFL and NBA guys (Michael Vick, Adam “Pacman” Jones and Jayson Williams come to mind) that have a crime sheet longer than their pro stat sheet, yet they haven’t been shunned.

It doesn’t make any sense why Benoit gets no acknowledgement in WWE annals. He may be listed as a former champion, but that’s it. He’s just a name. He deserves better.

I guess pro wrestling just isn’t what it used to be. I guess that’s why it’s called sports-entertainment and wrestlers are now called performers or competitors.

Maybe that’s why I’m no longer a fan, er, sorry, a member of the WWE Universe.

I’ll gladly spend hours on YouTube watching old matches of current wrestlers’ fathers any day.

Wow, I’m old.

‘Till next week…

You know what? Sometimes pro athletes remind me of nothing more than a four-year-old.

This list can go on and on, but the No. 1 reason why these overpaid 20-somethings are seen as children can be summed up in two words: contract holdout.

A player has one decent season and wants to get paid what he deems is worthy cash. Fine, I can see that. But when he'd shoot for $8.5 million per season and can in no way shape or form take $8.25 million because he can't feed his family on that, well, that's where I draw the line.

Exactly how big is your family, the tale of Shawn Kemp notwithstanding, dude? I have a family of four and I have a 40-hour-a-week gig that supports my wife's income and I think we do pretty well.

And neither one of us makes even close to a million bucks a year.

Still, we survive on a weekly paycheck.

Another thing that really ticks me off about athletes is when they compare themselves to others and demand the kind of money that athlete makes. That's where I see athletes as kids.

Just this afternoon, my (almost) two-year-old had a toy in our living room and my (almost) four-year-old wanted it. I told him to go find another toy and he pouted until he got the toy. Even in that situation, my kids showed more maturity than pro athletes do at times.

"He's getting $4 million more than me and my numbers were better. I want $5 million more."

The lifestyle of pro athletes, I mean, do THEY even realize how good they have it?

I was listening to the Jim Rome Show on the radio the other day and Romey had former NFL coach Herm Edwards on. Edwards was comparing today's athletes to athletes of his time. He mentioned how athletes of yesteryear had to get offseason jobs to make ends meet.

Then he said something that made me beam. He said that athletes back then played because they finally achieved their goal of pro ball, whereas today's players simply play for the money.

Right on, Herm!

Finally, and this is what really increases my blood pressure even though it's been like this for years, I absolutely hate when players, owners, whoever, says that sports is no longer a game, but a business. I know this is true, but I wish people could take a step back and realize that what Alex Rodriguez gets paid $45,000 an at-bat to do, we cherished and did for nothing on a city diamond back in the day. And yeah, $45K. Do the math. That's a good salary for a YEAR for most people and he makes that regardless if he pops out, strikes out on three pitches or jacks a walk-off bomb.

Just sick.

You know what? I'm now going to fire up the grill, toss some hot dogs on and feed my family for less than $10.

But I wish I could have got the more expensive dogs, ya know?

Ri-freaking-diculous.

'Till next week...