I  used to be a sports junkie. Just a few years ago, my involvement bordered on obsessive. I would scour the sports section of the newspapers, reading just about every sports magazine and website I could get my hands on. I followed the box scores for every pro baseball, football, basketball, and hockey game. I could recite the tendencies of the top 15 male and female tennis players in the world. I knew every high scorer in college basketball, and the bowl championship standings for the college football teams. I even knew the names of the top national high school basketball prospects before they joined the NCAA. I found myself inspired by stories of players rising up out of poverty and extenuating circumstances to become national heroes. I spent hours at the public library researching sports history and tactics. My obsession was so thorough, it was global: I'd surf the web for the scores in the England-Australia cricket test series, or World Cup soccer.

Like many other sports junkies, I used to get emotional about my favorite players and teams. If the Indiana Pacers lost a playoff series, I would toss and turn in bed the night after their last game of the season. Every home run by the Cleveland Indians would give me a warm, tingly feeling on the inside. I screamed my voice hoarse, win or lose, at Georgetown basketball and soccer games when I attended college there. I idolized my favorite coach Bob Knight, now the basketball coach at Texas Tech.

I'm 25 now. Things have changed. Today I don't really care that much about sports. I don't recognize young pro or college players anymore. I don't even know who the top 15 tennis players in the world are. I've forgotten which teams played in the World Series the year before last. If you were to remind me, I would struggle to name more than two people who played in the series. What happened in just a few short years? I myself wonder how the transition happened— from being sports-obsessed, to being sports-indifferent. My conclusions: (1) I have gotten older, and my priorities have changed. (2) College and professional sports have continued their downward descent into Hell. (3) On a larger level, to be obsessed with sports is completely unreasonable anyway.

(1) Through middle school and high school, I was a decent athlete. I was the fastest sprinter in my high school. I captained the tennis team, played against the #1 player at other schools and usually won. I ran grueling long-distance cross-country courses and did well. I could hit 8 or 9 three pointers in a row on the basketball court.

I pushed my body to its limits. I used to bench-press above my weight at the high school gym. While doing homework, I would sit against the wall to strengthen my legs until my thighs and calves twitched inadvertently and eventually went numb. I once did 110 straight pushups in one set. Like Forrest Gump, I never walked anywhere, but ran. I appreciate that all of this helped build my character and kept me fit. But I was obsessed.

It's not like I'm a total lard-man today. I go to the gym twice a week. I signed up for a touch-football league, I captain my office softball team, and I can still kick ass at pickup basketball. Although I hate to lose, the intense desire to build toward something and try to achieve greatness in sports is gone. Athletics are not as big a part of my identity, or as much a source of pride. Right now it's more about health, and exercise. Without this desire for greatness in myself, I feel less motivated to observe other people trying to achieve athletic greatness.

With a full-time job and an active schedule outside of work, I have a lot less time to spend on watching games, or reading about sports. If I do catch a game, it is more about socializing with my buddies and colleagues, grabbing some beers and food at a sports bar or in Yankee Stadium, talking about other stuff. I don't own a TV. Part of the issue is also where I live. New York City has so many things going on, in terms of art, music, tastings, parties, and other events that there is more than enough entertainment to distract me besides the Knicks or Mets. Nothing really wrong with that.

(2) Too much about sports is downright disgusting. Jose Canseco's new book has fresh allegations of steroid use among some of the baseball players I used to really admire, such as Mark McGwire and Jason Giambi. It's such poor sportsmanship to gain an artificial advantage on the court or field, whether it's a corked bat or a shot of 'roids, when millions of fans are paying out hard-earned money to see a real, fair ballgame.

Then there's point-shaving and cheating on behalf of the gambling industry. It's a world-wide phenomenon, with both cricket players in India and basketball players here in America admitting to accepting cash to throw a game away. Gambling interests are so powerful, I find it impossible to gauge whether a referee or player might be involved. Too often I have seen something odd going on in a game that alludes to something not so kosher going on behind the scenes.

Our society is largely to blame. We're paying the people who entertain us way too much money, and giving them more attention than they really deserve. The players are made out to be larger than life. We've created prima donnas who think of themselves as too precious to represent their country on the Olympic team. They think it's OK to sleep around on their wives (Kobe Bryant), sire children with multiple women they aren't married to (Shaquille O’Neill), or beat people up (Pacers players at a Detroit away game this fall). It doesn’t bother me so much that people choose to mess around or fight. What gets to me is that they think their profession makes it all right to sidestep the system. To the contrary, athletes should be held to a higher standard, with their multi-million dollar contracts and adulation. Since the Pacers have been my very favorite team for many years, the fan-punching incident in Detroit was a bitter death of innocence for me. Athletes clearly do it simply because they are famous, and therefore think they can get away with things that other people can't. As if the rules don't apply to them. Too often, they're right. Our media puts them on a pedestal, along with other types of celebrities. Too many of them don't deserve it.

In college, underage guys on the basketball team would go out to bars, drink and smoke pot the night before a big game. Now, I have nothing against either underage drinking or recreational drug use. But these kids should have been making better decisions: they were getting a $120,000 education financed for free. In return, all they had to do was show up to their classes, follow a simple set of rules, and perform in games and at practice at their best effort level. And some just couldn't. Why would they, if the players knew they would get away with it? If they didn't get away with it, they were ruining the team anyway: behavior-related suspensions and expulsions destroyed what would have been several great Georgetown teams. In my opinion these kids were letting down not just their teammates and coaches, but every fan, along with the university and all fellow students like myself, whose college was paid for through the hard work of their parents, part-time jobs, or assuming a lot of debt.

Yes, sport at its best represents what is truly great about mankind. Increasingly, it seems to be bringing out the worst in human beings. Sports are going to Hell.

(3) Finally, I think my obsession with sports was misplaced. I was channeling my nervous, youthful energy toward sports. It might have been a temporary fix to my adolescent insecurities and sexual frustrations. I'm sure this happens to other young men. Looking back, it seems somewhat embarrassing, almost as if I'd been had.

Pride in your college, your city, your state, or country is one thing. But does it make sense to be a New York Yankees fan because you live in New York, when none of the players are from New York? The franchise is rich and simply buys the best players on the market. Then they charge exorbitant rates for the honor of attending a game. I know, I know, prices are tied to what the consumer market bares. I have a problem with those of us who make up the market.

As a business, it's a good proposition, but should locals pin their happiness on the team's performance? Does this make sense on a rational level? I don't know the answer to this question. My head is all clouded up with disillusionment, as you can tell. I used to be that sort of fan, but not any longer.

Sport entertains people, encourages exercise and healthy lifestyles, and creates lots of products and jobs. These are good things. But as the behavior of both management and players has shown in recent years, they will lock out a season at the drop of a hat to line their pockets even further. The fans get screwed in the end. It's all a big business. There will always be a dumb, irrational, but cash-generating bowl system in NCAA football. That's enough reason for me not to even bother paying attention. If that's not enough, there are always the new headlines. Today's includes "NHL Players Accused of Rape."