Golf, tennis should prosper from other sports' cheating

Watch the 2006 World Cup, and you'll gain a whole new appreciation for the sport. The sport in question is not soccer, however. If you don't appreciate soccer by now, a single event -- even one as cool as the World Cup -- isn't going to convert you.

So don't watch the World Cup to appreciate soccer. Watch it to appreciate tennis, and to appreciate golf.

When taking a dive in pursuit of a foul call, be sure the referee sees your theatrics. (Getty Images)

Be warned, though, that if you do this correctly, this experiment will test your appreciation for mainstream sports such as football, baseball and basketball.

This is about cheating. They do it at the World Cup, and they do it so brazenly -- and so badly -- that you can't help but notice. Watch for yourself. Keep notes on the number of times a soccer player dives like a third-grader at the city pool, flopping about in a childish call for attention (and a penalty kick).

Count the number of players who try to draw a yellow card by writhing on the ground, clutching their leg as if they've been shot. Faking is so prominent that soccer players have a universal signal for a real injury. As they're writhing, they wave one arm over their head to let their coach know this one is serious. No wave means no injury. Fakers.

Count the pulled shirts. Or the number of times a wall moves from the minimum 10 yards away from a spotted ball to 9 or 8 or 7 yards, however close the wall can get by tiptoeing in unison as the referee walks away.

You might call it gamesmanship. I call it cheating.

Which makes tennis and golf look so good. Understand something. Tennis and golf need all the help they can get to look good. Despite trying their best to grow their games beyond the highest tax bracket, tennis and golf remain elitist, country club sports. In most cases they still require equal parts athletic ability and cash. Rooting for tennis and golf is not an easy thing to do.

Still, try. Watch a tennis match. Tennis players complain about calls, but they don't ask for advantages they haven't earned. They do, however, give back advantages they haven't earned.

Last year Andy Roddick beat Fernando Verdasco to advance to the quarterfinals of the Italian Masters in Rome. Or he could have beaten Verdasco. On match point for Roddick, Verdasco double-faulted wide. That was the line judge's decision. Roddick overruled the call, checking the clay and pointing out that Verdasco's serve had been inside the line. The line judge changed the call. The match continued.

Roddick went on to lose.

"I didn't think it was anything extraordinary," he said afterward.

Maybe not ... if you follow tennis or golf, where sportsmanship is treasured above winning. Golfers are so honest, they're anal. They penalize themselves to the point of disqualification.

At the 2001 Kemper Open, Australian Greg Chalmers gave up his $94,500 check after violating the PGA Tour rule against giving advice to a playing partner. Chalmers' "advice" came during the first round when he blurted out his poor choice of club (a 6-iron) to the caddie of another player. That was a two-shot violation, only Chalmers didn't know it. When he signed his scorecard without the penalty, he technically had signed an incorrect scorecard. When he learned of his mistake toward the end of the tournament by hearing of a similar mistake on another tour, Chalmers disqualified himself. He already had wrapped up $94,500. He left with nothing.

Now think about baseball. It goes well beyond the steroids and the human growth hormone and whatever else ballplayers have been using -- and will continue to use -- to gain an extra 5 mph on their fastball or an extra 20 feet on their long fly balls.

Baseball players have made cheating part of the game. Spitballs, corked bats. How about a trapped catch in the outfield? Roddick waved off match point. Ever seen an outfielder trap the ball, get rewarded with an out call, then wave off the umpire? Of course not. Cheating is only cheating if it doesn't work.

That's the mantra for football, too, where steroids and other medicinal benefits have turned men into monsters. Offensive linemen are taught how to hold without getting caught. Receivers apply sticky substances to their gloves. Cheating is only cheating if you get caught.

Basketball players flop on defense. They flop on offense. A 3-pointer under pressure is sure to be followed by a spastic collapse, as if the foul was so awful that it robbed the shooter of all muscle control. Cheating is only cheating if you don't get the whistle.

Yet you love basketball. You love football and baseball. So try loving soccer. Give it a chance this World Cup.

They cheat in soccer, but cheating is only cheating if you turn the television off.