Numerical disorder

Athletes get so attached to jersey numbers they go to great lengths - even court - for them.

By TODD HARMONSON
The Orange County Register

All John Kruk needed was two cases of beer to part with his, but Dwight Gooden said he would rather give up his wife.

The Philadelphia Eagles' Jeremiah Trotter simply had to wash his teammate's car to get what he cherished. Then again, the world's most famous athlete - Real Madrid's David Beckham - couldn't bend tradition and had to watch another with his beloved.

No, not his former Spice Girl of a wife. His No.7.

In a sports world driven by numbers, few mean as much to athletes as the ones, twos and even 99s they wear on their uniforms.

"It's all mental," sports psychologist Richard Lustberg said. "It's a hundred percent mental. The number doesn't make them any better, but it does because they think it does."

Sometimes they're for luck, confidence or family tributes, but some numbers have become so vital to athletes that they're willing to beg, plead and fight for them.

And the fight over one number - the Washington Redskins' 26 - nearly went to trial today in Maryland before two former teammates reached a settlement Monday over what one owed the other for his number.

Los Alamitos High graduate and former USC safety Ifeanyi Ohalete, now with the Arizona Cardinals, sued Redskins running back Clinton Portis for the $20,000 he claimed Portis still owed him from the $40,000 Portis agreed to pay to get Ohalete's No. 26.

Portis had said he shouldn't have to pay Ohalete because Ohalete was cut by the Redskins before the final two payments were due. But Portis agreed to pay $18,000 on the eve of the trial.

"We felt as though we had a very strong case and we're happy with the settlement," said Ohalete's attorney, John Steren, who said there was a written contract between the players. "We felt the contract was unambiguous."

USC business professor David Carter said the case was indicative of how numbers are becoming an integral part of an athlete's persona.

"Athletes are going to want the same number from Little League on up, from Pop Warner on up," Carter said. "Look at LeBron James. He's always been No. 23. Would he resist a move to Chicago because he couldn't wear No. 23 there since it was retired for Michael (Jordan)?"

An athletes' number identity can mean serious money, especially when contracts preclude him from wearing his team uniform in advertising, but not his number.

"You've reached the pinnacle when you can get away without using a name and just be known by your number," Carter said.

Many athletes, however, seem to care little about the economic impact and are willing to pay to get their comfort numbers.

Though Rolexes and vintage wines often are exchanged for digits, some desire more than Wednesday's lottery numbers. Some athletes have executed the supply-and-demand squeeze perfectly to score a vacation and home addition.

OK, that's just New York Giants punter Jeff Feagles.

When quarterback Eli Manning arrived last season, he wanted Feagles' No. 10, which Manning wore at Mississippi. Feagles gave it up for a one-week vacation in Florida for his family, and he switched to No.17. Good move, since new Giants receiver Plaxico Burress wanted No.17 when he showed up this offseason. It cost him an outdoor kitchen for Feagles' home in Phoenix.

Sometimes a number is priceless to an athlete.

Frank Viola had been in the majors two years longer than Dwight Gooden when he joined the New York Mets in 1989, but Gooden was in his sixth season with the Mets and wasn't about to surrender his No.16 to the new arrival.

"I don't care how much money he makes," Gooden said at the time. "He can have my locker. I'll take him to all the best restaurants and show him New York.

"He can even have my wife. But he can't have my number. No way."

Former Phillies first baseman Kruk didn't require much when eccentric reliever Mitch Williams wanted Kruk's No.28.

"I saw where Rickey Henderson gave a guy $25,000 for a number," Kruk told David Letterman in 1993. "Well, I got two cases of beer. So Mitch got No.28 ... because his wife had a bunch of jewelry with No.28 on it.

"The best part about it is he got divorced, he wears No.99 and the two cases of beer are gone."

Beckham, however, was out of his lucky No.7 when he left Manchester United for Real Madrid in 2003. New teammate Raul already had the number, and officials told the superstar that team policy dictated that he had to take an available number.

He chose 23 and inspired Internet theories as to the number's implications. A tribute to Jordan? A reference to how many times Julius Caesar was stabbed? Oxford mathematician Marcus du Sautoy insisted that he picked it because 23 is the lowest prime number with consecutive digits.

USC's Carter said it would be wise of an athlete in his college prime, like Trojans quarterback Matt Leinart, to hold on to his number throughout his career. It's how he's identified in video games that can't use college players' names, and he already won a Heisman Trophy wearing it.

"(Leinart) should be thinking, 'If I'm always going to be wearing (No.) 11, I need to be burning that into everybody's consciousness now,'" Carter said.

The morning after Leinart won the Heisman, he was surprised at the thought his No.11 will be retired by USC. Of course, so was Athletic Director Mike Garrett's number until he let Trojans coach Pete Carroll promise it to stellar recruit Darnell Bing.

Garrett warned that Bing had better play well, or he would retire it again.

After two national championships in Bing's two years, both as a starter, it doesn't look as if Garrett will be going to court over his number anytime soon.