The point of sports is to win. Plain and simple. The occasional soccer mom may give you some garbage about how sports are just for fun, win or lose. She is lying. Granted, her son or daughter’s team has most likely gone 0 – 1-10 throughout the season so it is excusable because she is just reassuring her kid. But, nonetheless, we play sports to win. As long time football coach at Kansas City and for the New York Jets, and all around knowledgeable man Herm Edward once shouted, “You play to win the game!”

Sometimes, however, there is this little thing called luck. Nobody knows which way it will turn; there is no way to tell (unless you, like Harry Potter, stumble across a bottle of Felix Felicitus). And in that case, it is acceptable to lose a game or two. In that case, the point of sports is for your team to play their hardest, give it their best shot, give the other team a run for their money, and captivate the spectators.

This leads me to my main point. My beef with professional sports players. It’s not that they are rich, greedy egomaniacs, it’s just that they are rich, greedy egomaniacs that ruin my Sunday afternoon game-watching when they do something so incredibly mindless and ditzy showing their true allegiance to themselves, not their teams.

Case in point: A few weekends ago, Plaxico Burress (wide receiver for the New York Giants) shot himself in the leg. You may think I am kidding, but rest assured, I am dead serious. Due to a hamstring pull, he had been benched for just one week when he got careless and accidentally shot himself! With a gun Don’t get my wrong, I feel bad for the guy, and as a leading receiver and scorer, but surely no one feels has bone-headed as he does. Now, the next time I watch a Giants game, I will not see Burress make a diving catch or go 70 yards for a touchdown. This detracts from my entertainment. And that is the real problem

This all leads me to my next point. College sports are, for lack of a better word, filthy. The adrenaline rush that comes when watching an unranked NCAA basketball team topple one of the ACC dynasties is unparalleled by any other experience in the world. Except for maybe skydiving.

Professional athletes are businessmen. They play to make money. College athletes are team players. They play for the team. They can comprehend the phrase “there is no I in team” and they don’t make moronic mistakes that hinder their team’s potential. Because winning is, after all, the most important part of sports.

The most exciting play in a basketball game is not when Kobe slams down an alley-oop from half court, although I do like the way the light gleams off his arrogant muscular physique. Au contraire, mes amis. Let me paint you a little picture. Two rivals, North Carolina and Duke, are competing, both thirsting for a win. This game is for bragging rights, school pride, and the ability to mock their archenemies for eternity, or at least until the next face off. This game is for all of the marbles. Down by nine with two minutes and change to go, the Tar Heels are desperate. Then, by some unimaginable stroke of luck (I smell Felix Felicitus), they sink every shot while Duke scrambles to make even one basket. With twenty seconds left and down by two, a Carolina player is fouled. He hits one free throw, then misses the next. The rebound is caught by another Heel and he puts up the jumper. Swish. Hysteria ensues. North Carolina runs out the clock and their fans storm the floor. Vanquished, Duke sulks off into the locker room, wounded by defeat.

So here is my final message, kids. Stay in school. Go to college, play team basketball, maybe party a little bit along the way. But remember: Once you are a professional athlete, nobody will like you. I promise.