This column originally ran in The Standard-Times on March 24, 2006.

By Nick Tavares

For anyone who doesn't just root for laundry, the last few weeks have been tough to take.

Willie McGinest was cut by the Patriots and signed by the Cleveland Browns.

Sergei Samsonov, who had made it clear he didn't want to leave Boston, was promptly traded to the Edmonton Oilers for a prospect, a draft pick and a spare part.

Bronson Arroyo took the hometown discount to stay in Boston and was rewarded with a one-way ticket to Cincinnati.

And, perhaps worst of all, Adam Vinatieri was treated more like a kicker than an immortal icon, and allowed to sign on with the Indianapolis Colts.

None of these things seem right, but they're all too common in the world of professional sports.

Seeing your favorite player bolt for more money, or worse, seeing your favorite team cut your favorite player, can be jarring.

But this is nothing new to most involved in the business. In fact, they're the first to proclaim it, above all, a business.

Arroyo, though, was a rare good guy, the one who saw the benefit of playing in a city he loved and was willing to forsake more money in an effort to be truely happy in his profession.

He was warned by his agent that this deal made him even more tradable, and only weeks later he's been shipped to an also-ran in the National League.

"I'm not signing this deal to end up in Tampa Bay in two weeks," Arroyo told the Associated Press in regards to his contract. "And they said to me, 'There's no deal for you on the table right now and we don't foresee trading you anytime in the near future.' Those were the exact words.

"In my mind this is pretty soon, but they told me there was no guarantee."

Arroyo, not unlike many fans recently, has learned the hard way.

In professional sports, rooting too closely is dangerous, because the only way to honestly root for your chosen team is to do so with all your heart.

But there are few in sports following their heart. For every Tim Wakefield, there are a hundred Johnny Damons who understand that this is not a platform for the sentimental.

Kids can follow with their emotions on their sleeve because they have yet to be crushed by the adult world. Professional sports is the adult world, run by cold, calculated individuals who long ago realized that being a kid at heart is bad for the wallet.

But, for many of us, fandom is one of the last extensions of ourselves as children. Some people collect comic books all their life and some follow the Red Sox or Yankees. They're both intrinsically the same, though. They're attempts to stay connected to the kid in us all, the part that can still believe in heroes.

It's what makes wearing baseball hats and football jerseys so much fun far into adulthood. They work as connections to our favorite teams, and wearing a player's name and number on your back only heightens it. Many remember their first hat and their first trip to the park (or the rink, or arena). It runs far deeper than the money that the tickets cost.

That's why Vinatieri as a Colt seems wrong. That's why Samsonov as an Oiler seems wrong, as does McGinest as a Brown and Johnny Damon as a Yankee.

It's so shattering because we follow sports with our hearts, and sports runs itself with their heads.

So, a simple message for anyone over the age of 18 who's a diehard sports fan. It's a message heard a thousand times, but a message that needs repeating

Beware of professional sports. For every thrill they provide, there's almost always heartbreak around the corner.

Nick Tavares is a columnist for The Standard-Times. Contact him at ntavares@s-t.com

Date of Publication March 24, 2006 on Page C01