Here are two things about professional sports that had never occurred to me before.

Professional sports = big business.

Professional sports fans = kooks.

Not sure why, but this all crystalized for me as I've been watching my beloved Red Sox in the "postseason" — which is a phrase utilized with such frequency and dramatic intonation by broadcasters that I'm convinced Major League Baseball requires it be spoken aloud a minimum of 750 times per game or the network pays a substantial fine. And the announcer who doesn't meet "postseason" quota gets his/her tongue spot-welded to the roof of his/her mouth.

Here are other vaguely connected thoughts:

1. Why do those hired attendants who field foul grounders by first or third base always present the baseball to a cute child? I'd be happier if Foul Ball Person would hand the balls to:

a. The smarmy, drunk frat guy who'd otherwise knock a disabled child out of the way to get a ball.

b. The incredibly wealthy couple who will then hand the treasure to their butler, who in turn takes it to the waiting helicopter parked on top of Cask & Flagon.

c. The fat loudmouth who would otherwise knock a disabled child out of the way to get a ball if it didn't mean he'd have to put down his Family-Pak of nachos and/or the 48-ounce 'Gansett clutched in his bear-like paw(s).

2. Can't fans wave something besides towels or pom-poms? How about machetes or live pit vipers?

3. Speaking of waving, why does The Wave have to go clockwise? Why can't it go the other way or just hopscotch sections according to a complicated timing-pattern printed in that game's program?

4. On Nov. 1, Taco Bell is giving away a free taco for every stolen base in this World Series. Nice! But wouldn't it be cool if, I dunno, a nationwide pest control chain gave aways a free vermin for every stolen base? Sounds ridiculous, I know. But I promise you people are so desperate for free stuff they'd take advantage of it.

a. "Karla! Jackie stole third!" "OMG! OMG! I hope we get a big waterbug." "Cool! Or one of those plague-roaches!"

b. "Damn! Benintendi just got caught stealing." "Aw, hell. I was already thinking of names for our free rat."

5. It might be interesting if, during one random inning, dozens of serious looking people, some in fake ATF and CDC outfits and a few with hazmat suits, cautiously crept through the stadium, poking under seats and holding big geiger-counter type devices. They would ignore questions from increasingly agitated fans, instead muttering to each other, "Be careful, the note said Swine Flu."