He finally lived up to the nickname he gave himself a long time ago: Prime Time. Because there was almost no way to turn on the tube sometime Sunday and not see Deion Sanders somewhere.
In the evening, there he was climbing out of a stretch limo at Three Rivers Stadium and slipping into an Atlanta Braves uniform just in time to make the first pitch of Game 5 in Pittsburgh. At noon, that was him, too, walking sleepy-eyed from the tunnel of Joe Robbie Stadium in Miami, making last-minute preparations before the kickoff in an Atlanta Falcons uniform.In between, there were his commercials and constant updates on the progress of his 20-hour, 2,000-mile odyssey and endless shots of the expensive vehicles - limousines, chartered jets, helicopters - that made it possible.
Few athletes ever riveted our attention the way Sanders did by attempting a different city, baseball-football-baseball tripleheader, and certainly none ever heard so much criticism ringing in his ears because of it. Plenty of commentators called Sanders selfish and greedy and reckless and calculating, and he made an easy target because, with precious few exceptions, he is choosing not to talk back.
Deion could well be all of those things. But the criticism in this case misses the point.
What Sanders did Sunday was special. It was fun. These are still games, after all, and what he did Sunday was what every kid who ever had his sports seasons overlap thrills at being able to do.
The interest that followed in Deion's wake should remind us why everybody invested so much emotion in Bo's struggles to make it back from a damaged hip and why Charlie Ward, the baby-faced quarterback and point guard for two of Florida State's teams, shows up in national magazines and highlight films all the time.
Granted, Deion made an inordinate amount of money doing it, and he may make more if half the rumors of Nike's involvement in the package turn out to be true. But money is the reason the pro baseball and football seasons (to name just two) overlap these days.
Granted, he got an inordinate amount of publicity doing it. But that is only a barometer of the fascination most of us feel at watching someone with enough talent to play on a diamond one moment and a rectangle the next.
One cluster of fans chanted "Prime Time, Prime Time!" when Sanders left his hotel in steamy Florida wearing a suit and sunglasses to hide the bags under his eyes, and another cluster cheered him when he stepped out into the cool of a Pennsylvania evening in a windbreaker and shorts, still wearing the same sunglasses.
Like his teammates on both squads, the Falcons appreciated what Sanders was doing. Sanders did not have his best game in the loss to Miami, but coach Jerry Glanville went out of his way afterward to say, "Everybody knows of his athletic ability. What's inside him is even bigger."
Braves manager Bobby Cox was more neutral, saying Sanders might have gotten off the bench in Game 5 if the right opportunity had presented itself. But Braves general manager John Schuerholz has been decidedly anti-Deion throughout the whole affair.
Schuerholz felt wronged because while there was no contractual agreement, he thought he had an understanding that Sanders would play only baseball for as long as the postseason lasts.
But there was plenty of gray area in that understanding, and two important things changed between the time they talked and Sunday. The first was that the starting time of Sunday's baseball game was changed from 4 p.m. to 8:30 p.m.
The second was Sanders' role with the Braves. Until he got injured late in the season, Sanders was being platooned in the outfield and seeing plenty of at-bats against left-handed pitching. But just before the postseason, he was told his role was going to be limited to the occasional pinch-hitting or pinch-running situation.
Like every genuine competitor in any sport, Sanders felt stung - enough so that he was willing to gamble that neither injury nor a tight timetable would keep him from meeting his commitments. And when the opportunity came along, he tried to do what everyone in his shoes (regardless of the brand) would have done.
He played.