By Bob Markus

So you thought you could slip one by me. Thought I wasn't paying any attention. The whole football world is up in arms about the Indianapolis Colts pulling their star players in the middle of a game when they still had a chance at a perfect season and you look for my reaction. Might as well ask the Dali Lama what he thinks about American Idol. That's the trouble with writing a weekly column. Some weeks there are five or six big stories and your job then is to decide which is the one that grabs the most readers by the throat. Sometimes weeks go by without a single story that sits up and begs to be addressed. Feast or famine is the name of the game and sports writers have been eating high on the blog these last few weeks. Just look at the pile of tasty treats laid out before us in the past five days alone.

Alabama beats Texas for the national championship in a game that is decided in the first five minutes. That's about how long Colt McCoy lasted before being sent to the infirmary with a shoulder injury. The next day the University of South Florida fires head football coach Jim Leavitt, the only coach the Bulls have had in their 13-year history. His crime: Allegedly grabbing a player by the throat at halftime of the Louisville game, slapping him in the face and lying about it to investigators. Say it isn't so, Jim "It isn't so," Leavitt declares. Leavitt's sacking comes just days after an even higher profile coach, Texas Tech's Mike Leach, is booted out the door under similar circumstances. Leach, who is not the only coach the Red Raiders have had, but is the coach who put the school on the football map, is accused of sending an injured player into solitary confinement for the crime of incurring a concussion. Leach counters that he was fired because he had wrangled too high a salary in contentious contract negotiations last winter. But that's old news. In the meantime, the doors of the Baseball Hall of Fame widen just enough for Andre Dawson to sneak through. Dawson, who played for 21 years, mostly with the Montreal Expos and Chicago Cubs, had been knocking at the Hall of Fame door for nine years before getting the summons. No sooner is Dawson safely inside than the doors slam shut right in the faces of Bert Blyleven and Roberto Alomar. There are 539 ballots returned by members of the Baseball Writers Association of America and, needing 75 per cent (405 votes), Blyleven, in his 13th attempt, falls five votes shy and Alomar, in his first try, misses by eight votes. Mark McGwire, whose presumed dependence on steroids is about to become established fact, gets only 128 votes, one of them mine.

The week-end brings the wildcard rounds of the NFL playoffs and although three of the games are walkovers, the lone exception makes up for it. The Green Bay Packers and Arizona Cardinals engage in an epic shootout between the grizzled gunslinger, Kurt Warner, and the new kid on the block, Aaron Rodgers. When the dust settles, both are still standing and the score is tied at 45-all. It is obvious to everyone in the stadium and millions watching on television that whichever team wins the coin flip will win the game. NFL playoff rules vary greatly from college rules. In the college game both teams have an opportunity to score and the game can go on for as many overtime periods as is required. In the NFL it's strictly sudden death. First team that scores wins and if it turns out to be the other guy you're out of luck. The Chicago Bears once won a game in Detroit by returning the overtime kickoff for a touchdown. The Lions never even sniffed the ball. Something similar appears inevitable here. Neither defense seems capable of stopping the opponents' offense or even slowing it down. So when the Packers win the flip, Green Bay fans rush to telephone their travel agents to make arrangements for the next round. Then comes the jaw-dropping conclusion. As expected, the Cardinals' offense never does see the ball again. But its beleaguered defense does. On third and six in the first series after the kickoff, Rodgers is stripped of the ball, inadvertently kicks it to Cardinal linebacker Karlos Dansby and, 17 yards later--touchdown. Arizona wins 51-45.

So now everyone is talking about the NFL playoffs, right? Well, maybe for a few hours, until rumors start bubbling out of Los Angeles that USC Coach Pete Carroll is going to take the head coaching job with the Seattle Seahawks. By Monday the story goes well beyond the rumor stage and eventually is confirmed. But by that time everybody is talking about McGwire's confession that he, indeed, took steroids during his glory years.

So what's a guy supposed to write about? Warner? O.K. Many are saying his near-perfect performance Sunday almost assures his enshrinement in the NFL Hall of Fame. I'm saying he didn't need any reaffirmation. He's already a first ballot Hall of Famer. Carroll? How's this? Some are saying he's running away from possible NCAA sanctions against his USC team. I'm saying this: He went for the money (about 6 1/2 million a year) and the challenge. And I'll further say that he will fail this time, just as he did the first time around. And the second. McGwire? Some are saying his confession and apparent contrition will eventually lead him into the Hall of Fame. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I voted for McGwire in the latest election and I'll continue to vote for him as long as baseball sees fit to put him on the ballot. But I'm in the minority and our numbers are shrinking.

So those are some of the things I could comment on this week, but I've got unfinished business to attend to first. Now about those Indianapolis Colts, who pulled quarterback Peyton Manning and several other starters in the third quarter of a game they were leading 15-10 and would eventually lose 29-15. The Colts justified the decision by pointing out that they risked injuries to their star players when they already had secured home field advantage throughout the AFC playoffs. They may have felt justified when the New England Patriots, who did not sit any of their star players, lost receiver Wes Welker to a devastating injury in a game that basically was meaningless. But, hey, listen up. Football is a physical game. Guys get hurt. But there is no such thing as a meaningless game. It's not a meaningless game to the guy who pays $80 a seat, $80 that he probably can't afford, and thinks he's going to see a professional football team. The NFL has rules about hiding injuries. There are deadlines for reporting injuries that might keep a player out of the game. There are substantial fines for failure to honestly report such injuries. I propose this: mandate that any team that intends to keep a non-injured player off the field on Sunday, report it to the league by Thursday of game week. And let the poor sap who paid the 80 bucks have the option of returning his ticket and getting his money back.