GIVEN the fanatical support that professional sport attracts _ the mega-buck contracts, the obscene amounts of prize-money, the commercial sponsorship, the blanket TV coverage and the general hype stirred by major events _ it's sometimes difficult to defend the hysteria attached to what, after all, is "only a game".

And if ever that game was put into its proper perspective, it was this week.

The tumultuous events in the United States quite rightly brought sports events on both sides of the Atlantic to a grinding halt.

The baseball pennant race, the new NFL season, soccer's European Champions League, the build-up to this month's Ryder Cup golf and any number of other competitions, all seemed so ridiculously insignificant.

What did it matter whether Barry Bonds crushed his 62nd homer or whether Michael Owen volleyed home his 10th goal in half a dozen matches, and who cared whether basketball superstar Michael Jordan announced his comeback or not?

Our only thoughts were for those who perished in one of the most sickening tragedies of this century and our conversations and concerns were consumed by efforts to bring the perpetrators of such genocide to justice.

That's not to say sport shouldn't or won't continue to play a significant part in our lives.

There's no escaping the five-star entertainment it provides nor the big business spin-off it creates.

Yet there's a time and place for everything.

And in the aftermath of such cataclysmic terrorist attacks, the time wasn't now.

Asked once whether he considered the performance of his beloved Liverpool a matter of `life and death', Bill Shankly, the club's dour Scottish boss replied: "Och, it's much more serious than that!"

Shankly's passion for football almost belied his qualities as a human being. Yet had he lived to witness the appalling loss of life during the Heysel Stadium tragedy, blamed in part on Liverpool fans, no-one would have displayed more compassion or care.

Shankly, despite his all-consuming love of the game, knew the boundaries.

And it was comforting to see that so many other top sportsmen and administrators this week were of a similar ilk.

Perspective isn't always as evident as it should be in professional sports. Our heroes and heroines often stand accused of taking an inflexible, obsessive route to glory.

But it was reassuring to see Tiger Woods trembling during a practice round on Tuesday for this weekend's now-cancelled World Championship golf tournament. His thoughts were anywhere but on the golf course. For once, the game that has made him a sporting icon mattered not a toss.

The reaction of others was similarly sombre.

Life will slowly return to normal, and while memories of the all-too graphic scenes of Tuesday's tragedy will no doubt linger, it won't be long before sports debate will again dominate the casual conversation.

But we've been reminded in no uncertain terms that the games we follow with such intense emotion and enthusiasm, are just that _ games.

In the shadow of this week's evil slaughter, they mean so very little.

- ADRIAN ROBSON