These national pastimers take self-worship to a level of which Latrell Sprewell can only dream.

<strong>10. Tommy Lasorda</strong>- He retired from managing in 1996 after a cardiac scare that absolutely, positively had nothing to do with his massive in-game blintz consumption. Since then, he has jiggled to and fro as one of baseball's self-appointed goodwill ambassadors, even starring in a series of commercials targeted at twentysomethings who don't watch the playoffs (because really, is there a better candidate for that gig than an arthritic old dude 10 years removed from the field?). The game is much richer for his presence—just ask him.

<strong>9. Ted Williams</strong>- You've gotta be something special to inspire four nicknames during your playing career (The Kid, The Splendid Splinter, Teddy Ballgame, and The Thumper), not to mention another one postmortem (Icicle-Head Ted). He thought enough of his offensive abilities to write a how-to and dub it The Science of Hitting. The world was his batboy.

<strong>8. Dick Williams</strong>- He remained popular among his players and successful on the field despite a my-way-or-the-highway approach that combined ruthless sarcasm with a bully's knack for identifying weakness. A spry 77 and crustier than a castaway's undergarments, Williams still believes he could teach those millionaire kids with the long hair and the loud music a thing or two about hittin' the cutoff man or movin' the man over.

<strong>7. Barry Bonds</strong>- Hey, lay off, man. You'd harbor delusions of massive self-importance, too, if you "allegedly" inhaled fistfuls of skull-circumference-broadening pills. Besides, when Barry claims the career-home-run title as his own somewhere on or around August 16—please, God, let this happen in Philadelphia—who would we be to tell him he's not the greatest slugger ever? Here's hoping he'll remember to thank "the little people." You know, like teammate/amphetamine fall guy Mark Sweeney.

<strong>6. Pete Rose</strong>- Forget the gambling and lying ("I never bet on baseball… Well, maybe I bet on it a few times… Okay, fine, I bet on my own team every so often… No, actually, come to think of it, I bet on my own team every night, along with 13 horse races, six NBA games, and the who-shot-J.R. candidates"). Pete's me-me-me bluster is on sad display every year during the Hall of Fame induction weekend, when he sets up shop down the street and sells autographs. The crowds are thinning, unlike his torso.

<strong>5. Billy Beane</strong>- He may or may not have an ego bigger than any other baseball GM, but by providing the access that birthed Moneyball: The Art of Winning an Unfair Game he more or less screamed that his way of doing business warrants intense scrutiny. Note to the thicker-than-a-Canseco-bicep b'caster Joe Morgan: Billy Beane did not personally write Moneyball, nor any of the thousands of other pieces of journalism that have chronicled his tenure with the A's.

<strong>4. Keith Hernandez</strong>- Come on, he won the MVP award in '79. He can do whatever he wants. He's Keith Hernandez.

<strong>3. Tony La Russa</strong>- Hey, he had a book written largely about him, too (Buzz Bissinger's excellent Three Nights in August: Strategy, Heartbreak, and Joy: Inside the Mind of a Manager). Yet nobody calls La Russa on his ego, despite how the game-lengthening misery he inflicts with his I-will-exert-my-will-upon-every-late-inning-matchup bluster contrasts with his faux blue-collar humility ("I decided I'd rather ride the buses in the minor leagues than practice law for a living"). He has an organization called Animal Rescue Foundation and regularly appears with a California dance company. We don't want him at one of our dinner parties. Ever.

<strong>2. Rickey Henderson</strong>- Upon breaking the career-stolen-base record—which he eventually put as far out of reach as any statistical milestone in sports—Rickey proclaimed, "Lou Brock was the symbol of great base stealing. But today, I'm the greatest of all time." Funny as this is, he wasn't too far off the mark. He belongs in the rhetoric Hall of Fame for pioneering the use of the third-person in postgame interviews ("Disco Rickey don't advertise").

<strong>1. Reggie Jackson</strong>- Can't you imagine his thought process as he dreamed up the famous "I'm the straw that stirs the drink" quote upon his arrival in New York? Let's see… "The rag that washes the dishes"? Nah, too domestic. "The duvet that covers the bed"? Too fey. "The straw…"? Oh yeah. "They'll name a candy bar after me..." Then as now, there ain't enough mustard in the world to cover this hot dog.