The Ricker fancies himself an athlete.

Not now, of course, or during my childhood (we never really played catch, but he was good for an occasional game of HORSE -- his specialty was the one-handed shot, holding his drink in his other hand). He still plays golf, a game he picked up when he was 10 or so. But back in high school and college, he played sports.

Of course, like everything with the Ricker, the sports he chose weren't exactly normal. I've never seen any firm evidence--say, like a letter jacket or team picture--but to the best of my recollection, he swam, wrestled and tumbled.

Yes, tumbled. The Ricker was a gymnast. Apparently, his specialty was the rings, but he was pretty good on the pommel horse as well.

There's a game a play with my wife, called "How much would you pay . . ." where I tell her, much to her chagrin, how much I would pay to see certain things. Like, this summer, I would have paid $500 to see Radiohead. Or, I would have paid $40 to actually see Joe Namath kiss Suzy Kolber during that Monday Night Football game a few years back. I think I would pay $700 to stop the couple nicknaming trend (Brangelina, etc). I would pay $1000 to see Stacey Keibler and Jessica Alba in a whipped cream fight. And I would pay $15 to see someone punch out Barbera Walters on the air on "The View."

But seeing the Ricker dismounting the pommel or running through a floor routine, all in tights? I don't think I have enough money yet. Anyone care to chip in?