A muted laugh track for sports in 2001

 Smart tacked his He Hate Me moniker on the back of his jersey and became a symbol for the doomed and renegade XFL.

 Smart, a running back later signed by the Philadelphia Eagles after a brief stint with the Edmonton Eskimos, was not making a statement full of rage and loathing. He just thought he was being clever.

 "Basically, it's me playing against my opponent," he said. "And if I outdo him he's going to hate me."

 The laughs, however, were hard to come by in 2001. Like so much else, sports took several respectful steps backward, allowing the ash and smoke of Sept. 11 to clear, while God Bless America became a ball park anthem.

 Still, in the months before and after, sports did not entirely lose its sense of humour. Its quirks, its oddities, its blunders never really left the game.

 Consider Swedish lawmaker Lars Gustafsson, who nominated soccer for the Nobel Peace Prize. He insisted that soccer -- with its long history of hooliganism, riots and stampedes -- plays an "important role in the global arena when it comes to creating understanding between people."

 Soccer did cross a divide of sorts when authorities in Iran granted permission to a group of Irish women to attend a World Cup qualifier at Azadi Stadium, an all-male preserve.

 The reasoning? Since the women don't understand Farsi, they would not be offended by the cursing by the Iranian men in the stands.

 The mullahs of the NBA had their say, cracking down on the baggy, hip-hop look by fining nine players for wearing their shorts too low. The fiat by the fashion police sent a wave of mock horror through Shaquille O'Neal. He wondered what his young fans would think if he were compelled to make the retro, tight shorts of John Stockton part of his wardrobe.

 "I'd be the laughingstock of big men," he said.

 Isiah Thomas was more concerned about finance than fashion. The Indiana Pacers' coach came out with a book this year offering tips for success in basketball and life.

 Never mind that Thomas says he lost $10 million in his brief ownership of the Continental Basketball Association and is blamed by former CBA owners for the collapse of the minor league.

 Another business venture gave a metaphysical meaning to school spirit. Collegiate Memorials makes caskets and urns emblazoned with a university insignia. Forty schools signed on with the company.

 The Nebraska Cornhuskers can take heart as they head to the Rose Bowl, and no argument this time: Their school is No. 1 in casket sales, followed by North Carolina and Georgia.

 "I had no idea they would be that big of a hit in Nebraska," company president Scott Walston said. "But it does speak for the loyalty they have in that state."

 In Colorado, the kitchen and football field found common ground. The Loveland High School team was cited for greasing its jerseys with a nonstick cooking spray during a 20-12 victory over Greeley Central. Loveland coach John Poovey was suspended.

 "I don't know if it altered the outcome of the game," Greeley Central coach Steve Burch said. "But they were a little more difficult to block and tackle."

 Steve McMichael knows about blocking. The former Bears tackle performed Take Me Out to the Ball Game during the seventh-inning stretch at Wrigley Field. But before he burst into song he told the crowd what he thought of the umpiring the previous inning.

 The home plate ump wanted McMichael kicked out of the park. Not that it mattered -- McMichael planned to leave after his number. He learned of his ejection while watching the end of the game on TV in a restaurant.

 Goran Ivanisevic offered some psychoanalysis during his run to the Wimbledon title. Toward the end of his victory over Andy Roddick, Ivanisevic said he started to multiply.

 This was no simple case of a split personality. Suddenly, there were Gorans all over the court.

 "One was rushing, the other was rushing even more," he said. "Then the third one came and said, 'Guys, relax. It's a lovely court. Relax. Just calm down.' Third one had to come. I had to call him. He's the emergency one. Emergency 911 call."

 Lance Whitaker may be Ivanisevic's kind of boxer. Whitaker has filed an application to change his name. Only this is no Cassius Clay-Muhammad Ali conversion. Ethnic pride and religious convictions didn't even make it through the first round.

 Whitaker now goes by the name Goofi. Really.

 This is "about a human being who wants to have fun in his life," manager Rock Newman said.

 Dennis Rodman also wants to have fun. The former NBA star with a penchant for cross-dressing is negotiating to buy a share in a California restaurant.

 It wouldn't be your standard menu, of course. Patrons would be able to order their grilled chicken and blackened swordfish and then get their nose or navel pierced, a dining service that no doubt gives all hope for the New Year.