Media: Wow! Derek Jeter wears the same socks I do! Now that's news I can use!

Sports Illustrated a while back started a feature I can't say enough good things about. Feature is probably too strong a word, though, since it's usually just under a sentence. It's barely visible, but if you look for it, you'll see it.

It's called -- "This Week's Sign That The Apocalypse Is Upon Us."

Each week they either dredge up a quote or a little story somewhere that most likely slipped through the cracks. Sometimes it's an athlete expressing himself too freely. Sometimes it's a story about the misplacement of values in this country regarding sports versus reality.

In the spirit of those tidbits, I humbly add my own sign of the end of things as we know it.

It is the jock bio. On one network it is known as "Beyond the Game." On another it is "The Life." The common thread is similar to A&E's award winning Biography series, with one blinding difference. On the A&E series you get the whole story, warts and all. If the celebrity or public figure committed marital indiscretions or perhaps inhaled, frequently, you hear how it affected those around him. You get to see he or she squirm a little.

The jock bio is a wholly different animal. You'll see harder stories on Comedy Central. These specials are nothing more than an athlete's fondest dream. A living induction into the Hall of Fame. The camera on you, as you do nothing but focus on all the wonderful things you've done. Watch the glint in Barry Bonds' eyes as he sees a camera trained solely on him. Listen as he gives you his take on all matters of import to Barry Bonds. Beat writers following him for years have never seen that look and never will. Why answer a question like "Why did you not run out that grounder?," when you have someone more than happy to just look at all those very, very good things you've done. This is ego-stroking of an almost criminal nature.

One such bio featured Jazz legend Karl Malone. While no one can argue his on-court accomplishments are amazing, his off-court life is ripe for picking through. If you can think of a group to offend, Malone has done it. Think back to his ritual of slamming Utah and the team's front office right before taking the game-show sized check from them. You might think of those incidents and say "Man, there goes another arrogant athlete stomping his foot until he gets what he wants," No, no, no. These were all misinterpretations. See, what had happened was the media blew it all up and out of proportion. Eight times.

We have a whole lot of cable channels now -- Springsteen was only short about 80 or so when he wrote "57 Channels And Nothin' On." You have to create programs to fill all those channels. America has an almost morbid fascination with both sports and celebrity. It was only a matter of time before someone made the natural connection and put their "chocolate on my peanut butter," and "my peanut butter ontheir chocolate."

That being said, the only thing really disturbing is the media's role as accessory to these atrocities. There was a time when ESPN had nearly the same journalistic integrity as a major network. They still do provide the occasional "Outside the Lines" segments, but they are now followed by Chipper Jones house-hunting. CNN was, well, CNN before they sniffed some dead presidents and stopped asking jocks like Malone why they said what they did, and now are content to ask them what sound system is in their Lincoln Navigator.

There are athletes in the games whose opinions would be interesting. There are plumbers whose opinions would be interesting. Heck, there may even be world leaders whose opinions would be interesting. The problem is more people would rather find out what Stephon Marbury likes on his chili dog. If you need a clearer sign of the Apocalypse, you're just trying too hard.