On the Road with T.Gwynn...Ello, Mar. 28th

So what's it like to actually BE a Hall of Famer?

Hell, I don't know...I'm not a Hall of Famer in.....well....in anything....Unless you wanna' count stuff like Mowing Down Ribs at a Buffet, Taking Long Afternoon Naps, Seinfeld Trivia or Worst NCAA Tournament Bracket Ever Recorded.

And, of course, you're no Hall of Famer either....so that pretty much puts both of us in the same boat.

Last couple of days, however, I've had the chance to be a little closer to an actual Hall of Famer. A real one, who lives in our very midst.....the great Tony Gwynn. You know, of Baseball Hall of Fame -- er, -- fame.

And I'm hear to tell you that maybe the greatest compliment I could ever pay to Tony Gwynn -- and I've paid a lot of them over the years -- is that when you're around him....you simply don't feel like you're around a Hall of Famer.

At least in my mind, the life of a Hall of Famer is all about limos and chauffeurs...and free dinners with no tips...and adoring masses and adulation...and big pay-day speaking appearances with rubber chicken and strawberry shortcake.

Hall of Famers move among us with entourages and tinted windows....with designer suits and $200-dollar shades....on private jet airplanes with champagne and caviar...with not a care in the world.... but always with a Sharpie in hand ready to make a few more bucks by signing the collar of your grandmother's poodle.

The life of Tony Gwynn is nothing like any of that, however. Or at least it hasn't been this weekend.

I shuttled on to the San Diego State baseball team's bus Thursday morning with the destination being Fort Worth, Texas, as the Aztecs (16-8 and not doing too badly, thank you) prepared for a three-game weekend series against three-time defending Mountain West Conference champion TCU.

Surely, I figured, the Aztecs' head coach (must be a figure-head title, I thought) would not be joining us for the ride to the airport....After all, Hall of Famers don't ride buses. Do they?

Well, this one does -- and he did. In fact, he was sitting right there in the front seat, and he was ready with a quick quip about my relaxed travel attire. (First, I was definitely under-dressed. Second, one need not be a Hall of Famer in most cases to find fault with my choice of clothing. My wife's no Hall of Famer, and she finds fault with it all the time).

Once at Lindberg Field, I awaited the whisking away of Mr. Gwynn to some remote, off-limits airport location so he could at least cool his heels before the flight. But it never happened.

Not only did Cal Ripken's HOF classmate carry his own bags, but he waited IN THE BACK OF THE LINE while his troupe of scruffy-faced collegians checked in at the American Airlines ticket counter ahead of him.

As we lined up for departure, an absolutely crazy thing happened. Some bag check guy recognized ME and wanted to chat me up about some NFL football (how one gets recognized from being on the radio, I have no idea).....all the while I was wondering when the wide-eyed fellow would recognize the guy standing directly behind me and completely lose his mind.

But Tony Gwynn got on the plane with nary a glance -- not from the bag check guy, or anyone else, for that matter. And then something else surprising happened.

I turned right once in the airplane door to go take my seat in coach along with all the players -- and Mr. Hall of Famer turned right and took his seat in coach as well. (Maybe coaches are supposed to fly coach, but I thought in this instance, perhaps it would be different).

Once in Fort Worth, the team was hungry and I figured the following would happen: we'd all be dropped off for a fast-food feast at McDonald's, and the Greatest Hitter of the last Half-Century would be met by City dignitaries and shown the biggest table at the the finest restaurant on the top floor of most plush five-star hotel in town. (That's assuming, of course, that there is such a thing in Fort Worth).

This is what did happen: we were all bused to some Texas Ranch-style buffet place for dinner, and everybody paid their own way -- including Mr. Padre, who reached into his own wallet and paid his own $12.40 tab like everybody else.

When Tony Gwynn took the job as San Diego State's head baseball coach seven seasons ago, most thought it was just a temporary move. After all, why would anybody of Gwynn's stature want to deal with the rigors of college baseball? The buses, the roadside diners, the cheap hotels, the life as far outside the limelight as possible?

The reason, as it turns out, is that Tony Gwynn is really just everyman. Hall of Famer in Cooperstown, but just simply college baseball coach in San Diego. He has simple tastes and wants a simple life. He has goals, just like the rest of us, and he doesn't plan on stopping until he attains them.

Through his first six years as the leader of the Aztecs, he hasn't had the success he thought he would have: just one league title and no NCAA Tournament appearances. He's had to work harder than he thought, and he's had to learn patience while youngsters struggle to accomplish what he accomplished so easily before them.

Most Hall of Famers are off somewhere else enjoying the good life. Tony Gwynn is still in their battling every day like the rest of us.

A pretty good life, indeed.

Tribute to the Aztecs...Ello, Mar. 24th

"It's not whether you win or lose, but how you play the game."

Well...the above quote was probably written by some guy who lost...but, just the same, every now again there's some truth to the old saying.

Best example I can think of is the San Diego State women's basketball team, which was eliminated last night in the second round the NCAA Tournament by powerhouse Stanford, 77-49.

They surely didn't win...and they certainly did lose...but how they played the game was still something to behold.

No team I've seen in recent memory plays as hard as coach Beth Burns' Aztecs, and few play with as much heart...And though it can be difficult to please the bean counters who look only at results, there should still be room in sports to at least appreciate the effort.

One quick look at San Diego State, and then across the court at mighty Stanford, during the pregame warmups was enough to give away the game's eventual outcome...On the Aztecs side, just two players taller than 6-feet, and both slight of build...On the Stanford side, an entire team of 6-footers, and none slight of build.

How in world could San Diego State possibly win this thing? And the plain truth simply is that they couldn't....Stanford dominated the paint with its power and size so decisively that the Cardinal needed only to make one outside jump shot the entire game.

Time and again, with the ease of Jim Brown running over a high school secondary, Stanford pounded the ball inside for easy baskets...By the time it was over, the nation's No. 2-ranked team has scored 26 baskets -- and 25 of them were scored on layups.

The Cardinal's muscle-bound front line not only scored at will, but it punished San Diego State's smaller defenders so effectively that it seemed as if the entire Aztec team would foul out by halftime.

It was the men against the boys -- or in this case the women against the girls.

Nevertheless, Stanford did not march on to the Sweet 16 with complete ease...and that's because the spirit of San Diego State never waned, and the pressure provided on the perimeter by the Aztecs' athletic guards never wavered.

San Diego State scrapped and fought and battled for the entire 40 minutes...and the Aztecs' hearts never stopped beating even long after the issue had been decided.

Jene Morris, SDSU's brilliant guard who scored an NCAA Tournament-high 35 points in Saturday's dramatic first-round victory over DePaul, was relentless throughout and finished with a game-high six steals to go along with her team-high 14 points.

At just 5-feet-9 against Stanford's lineup of giants, Morris pressed the issue the entire night and drove Stanford's ball-handlers crazy...Sure, Stanford will move on but it's a pretty safe bet that the Cardinal is happy they won't have to deal with Morris any longer.

Jene's running mate in the backcourt, Quenese Davis -- also just 5-feet-9 -- played with undying energy and enthusiasm, working alongside Morris to pressure the ball for 94 feet of hardwood and forty minutes of game as well.

Coco Davis, SDSU's 5-foot-9 foward, time and again went to the hoop against Stanford's massive front line and was one of the reasons the Aztecs were able to foul-out All-American 6-foot-4 center Jayne Appel.

You don't see a lot of teams losing by nearly 30 given a standing ovation by the home crowd as its key players exit the game in the final moments...But that's what happened last night at Cox Arena.

The tribute, of course, was not about the winning and losing...but it was simply about the way they played the game.

San Diego State finished 24-and-8 and accomplished so much this season, that last night's loss could do nothing to take away from it....The Aztecs beat a ranked team (No. 4 Texas) for the first time in 14 years, won the Mountain West Conference title for the first time in 12 years, made the NCAA Tournament for the first time in 12 years, and won an NCAA Tournament game for the first time in 15 years.

Afterward, the Aztecs locker room was hardly somber...that's because one gets the feeling that what was accomplished this season was just the beginning...Both guards, Morris and Davis, will be back next year for their senior seasons...All-Conference center Paris Johnson will only be a junior...and two All-Conference-type front-court power forwards, Allison Duffy and Jessica Bradley, will join them.

For now...there's just no beating a powerhouse like Stanford (unless you're top-ranked UConn, whom the Cardinal will no doubt face this year in the Final Four).

But last night was a reminder that it isn't always just about winning...and the way these Aztecs play the game, next season should be a lot of fun.