Why is it that if we see someone walking down the street pounding his face with a basketball, it’s extremely bizarre and almost unsettling – but when we see it on a basketball court in March, it’s a demonstration of intensity?

Yesterday, driving down Oracle Road, I saw a man dribbling a basketball on the side of the road, occasionally hitting himself in the face with the ball, maybe just for kicks. (I know: “”What the…?””) But then I thought back to Adam Morrison in March.

Back then, the former Gonzaga forward hit himself in the face so many times with the ball I think the zebras had to get a new one because it was lopsided. But when Morrison did it, it was OK – almost expected. And I don’t know why.

What makes the two situations different?

Sure, Morrison was in the heat of the moment, but you never know what was going on in Oracle-man’s head. Maybe he was in the heat of the moment too.

Why can Morrison and former (thankfully) Duke guard JJ Redick cry when they lose a game, but a bank manager can’t when he loses a customer?

Why can former guard Hassan Adams proudly display “”Arizona”” across his chest for all to see in a huge win at Washington, but the Cox Cable man can’t do the same with his “”Cox”” shirt after a very successful installation?

Am I missing something here?

Who says it’s not OK for a team of marketers to give each other congratulatory slaps on the rear after landing a big contract, but all 34 members of the Arizona baseball team get the green light after a hit?

Who says Red Sox pitcher Curt Schilling can jump over the foul lines in the name of superstition, but an executive of a Fortune 500 company couldn’t plead superstition if he refused to step on certain tiles?

Why is it acceptable to say, “”Our profit margin continues to grow,”” and, “”It’s been a successful quarter so far,”” in a board meeting, but the words “”shutout”” and “”no-hitter”” are forbidden in a dugout?

Why don’t coworkers carry a consultant who nailed a presentation around the office on their shoulders?

How come freshman forward Robbie Nowinski can tap his goalie, sophomore Luke Edwall, in the pads as a sign of good luck before a game, but if you took a hockey stick to your roommate’s shins before an exam to wish him good luck, he’d think you were nuts – and you might find the police at your door within moments?

Why can former guard Chris Rodgers dribble the ball a thousand times before taking a foul shot, but politicians can’t warm up to sign a bill into a law by clicking the pen a dozen times, twirling it six more, clicking it again and finally licking the tip?

How can executives keep their jobs after the slightest dip in profits when football head coaches are fired after going 21-15 in three seasons (see: former Notre Dame head coach Ty Willingham)?

When they cross one another on the sidewalk, why can’t employees of DHL and UPS slam each other into the side of a building in attempt to try and take possession of the other’s package?

If junior shortstop Jason Donald can step out of the box to fix his batting gloves, tap his cleats and adjust his belt at his leisure, why can’t engineers building a bridge pause every two seconds to examine their tools, tap their blue prints and adjust their hard hats at their leisure?

How is it fair that lawyers can’t spit in the courtroom when ball players can’t help but spit when they’re on the diamond?

Why aren’t employees who call in sick told to “”suck it up”” when freshman quarterback Willie Tuitama can go 10-for-21 in a scrimmage or sophomore infielder Colt Sedbrook can tie the single-season school record for hit by pitches, both while fighting off illnesses?

Or better yet, if the mailman trips and skins his knee, why doesn’t he simply return to the post office for stitches and finish his route? If Oilers’ center Marty Reasoner can take 30 stitches to his ear earlier this year and not miss any action, so can the mailman.

Right?