I woke up yesterday and felt like I was coming down with something. You know that feeling?

It wasn't a sinus thing. It wasn't the flu. I couldn't quite figure it out.

Then I flipped on the TV.

Highlights of Georgia Tech's upset of top-ranked Connecticut the night before didn't grab my attention. A day-old report of Curt Schilling's possible trade to the Red Sox bored me. A preview of the holiday NFL matchups had me reaching for the "off" button on the remote.

That's when it hit me.

It was Thanksgiving, and I was in the early stages of a nasty case of the bah-humbugs.

I should have seen it coming.

All the signs were there -- the elevated cynicism; the extra bit of emotion over news of star athletes who had died or would be away from their game because of injury; the way that stories about athletes in trouble and athletes with big mouths were more irritating than usual.

Maybe it's no wonder, considering some of the sports headlines these days.

Sometimes, it's hard to ferret out news of wins and losses and game details when so many stories outline the problems in sports.

Is anyone else getting sick of big-name athletes being arrested for serious and violent crimes? Is there a Penn State football player left who hasn't gotten drunk, done something stupid and gotten arrested?

And what about the sports scene in Pittsburgh? The Pitt football and basketball teams are about the only good things going, and we don't know yet if they'll match expectations. Even if the football Panthers beat Miami tomorrow night, win a Bowl Championship Series game and finish in the top 10, what happens to the program in coming years in a watered-down Big East?

Please, let's not even get started on the state of college conferences.

Then, there's the three pro teams in town. They bite.

The Pirates' five-year plan apparently was supposed to be counted in dog years.

The Steelers are a dismal 4-7, but why do I get the sense that they'll remain mathematically in the race for the AFC North title just to prolong the agony and make it that much harder on diehard fans when the team gets eliminated?

The Penguins are last in the Atlantic Division and second-to-last in the Eastern Conference with 15 points and last in the NHL with five wins. They might not be able to afford to keep goaltender Marc-Andre Fleury, their best hope for the future, around for the rest of the season. And now Mario Lemieux, the best athlete I've watched in a Pittsburgh uniform, is out indefinitely with a hip injury that, for all we know, might prompt him to retire again. For good.

Whew. Where's that ice pack?

As midday approached, I wasn't feeling much better. According the listings, no live sports were on during most of the day except the requisite Detroit Lions game, against Green Bay. I couldn't muster any enthusiasm for that.

There was taped golf, taped tennis, and ESPN and Fox Sports Net had poker on all day. Ugh. No afternoon college football, no afternoon college basketball. The Tuna against the Dolphins sounded OK, but that was later on, so there was no reason to turn on the TV for a while.

For some reason, I thought of a holiday card I sent out one year, when I was still sending cards to more than just a few out-of-town friends and relatives.

It featured an old wood-carving print of a farm scene with the words:

"The corn was frosted,
The taters was lost,
Jest the same,
Christmas is Christmas"

I liked that. It was just right for someone with the bah-humbugs.

That almost made me smile.

In fact, I decided maybe I would check out TV after all. The Lions were up, 10-0, and I found myself drawn in to what turned out to be a good, back-and-forth game, with Detroit upsetting Green Bay.

With the Miami-Dallas game getting close, the first waft of roasting turkey hit. It began to seem more like Thanksgiving.

I started to look forward to watching Jackie Sherrill coach his final game at Mississippi State. In the meantime, maybe I'd just see what former Pitt receiver Antonio Bryant was up to with the Cowboys.

Thinking of Bryant made me think of his successor with the Panthers, Larry Fitzgerald. He might be about the best combination of talent and personality the city has had in any sport, especially for someone just a few months removed from being a teen-ager.

Thinking about Fitzgerald made me remember a few other good things about sports. Athletes aren't all felons and fame-mongers. And a game, any game, can be interesting.

Suddenly, I realized I had beaten the bah-humbugs. It was a feeling of triumph, like waking up on the verge of a cold and being able to stave it off mostly through the sheer power of will.

Bring on Christmas.