During the NBA lockout of 1999, Patrick Ewing attempted to defend the stance of the players union with the following gem of a quote:

"Sure we make a lot, but we also spend a lot."

To this day, a more brilliant summary of how pro athletes think has never been authored.

You see, their world, is quite simply not our world. Just as they have never really had a day of "real work" in their lives, we have never walked inside their bubble of splendor and riches.

It's nobody's fault. I'm not pointing fingers. I'm just stating the obvious. Sort of like Patrick Ewing did back then.

He's right. Pro athletes do spend a LOT of money. Why? Primarily because they can.

Should they spend less? Could they be more fiscally responsible? Isn't $18 million a year enough to live on?

Yes, yes, and, of course, yes.

That's not the point. We are importing the values and concepts of our world into theirs. And, as I said, we don't live in their world.

Deal with it.

I've long since gotten over being jealous or angry at pro athletes' bloated salaries their ability to exceed them. Instead, I find myself more interested these days trying to see things as they do.

It's my own little personal psychological case study.

Here's one recent example. Scottie Pippen announced he's available for an NBA comeback, some two years out of the game, and well past age 40. Unstated (by him at the time) was that he was more broke than MC Hammer and Mike Tyson after a long weekend in Vegas. A bank was still waiting for the make-good on a $5 million loan Scottie secured to launch "Air Pippen" with a leased Learjet.

Now, here's a little factoid that may interest you. Pippen was making $18 million a year for the Portland Trailblazers in his final season there. I'm guessing he thought that it's EASY to make $18 million a year in the "real world."

This just in: it's not.

Pippen was apparently taking so many charter flights (you know, expensive ones with very few other people on board) that a pilot convinced Scottie (whose expertise is in dunking a basketball, not private aviation) to go ahead and buy his own plane.

Well, to Scottie, I'm sure this made PERFECT sense. Even though he was not a shrewd businessman flying around the country closing deals, he probably felt like one. So he looked at his salary, ignored the fact that those days would someday end, and said: I'll buy my own!

Genius! Brilliant! *Clink!*

The rest of Scottie's sobering financial picture is that he believes his former agent / attorney swindled him out of nearly $27 million via "bad investments" and "questionable accounting."

Scottie decided to sue this law firm, and I bet you know how that went.

Suing a law firm is like getting into a squirt gun fight with the local fire department.

Now, I can't say what Scottie was thinking when he let $27 million flitter away on investments that made no sense (Alpaca farming?) or accounting he didn't understand (complicated spreadsheets). Remember, I am still trying to study and LEARN how the modern pro athlete sees his world.

I do know how people in MY world -- the regular working world -- would have treated $27 million dollars. We would have put it in the bank. Or if we were feeling "risky", perhaps a mutual fund.

Once there, our $27 million would have sat happily, kicking off interest that most people in OUR world could live on fabulously. Plus, I wouldn't have to worry about any fancy accounting. The good folks at Janus Fund would send me a statement, showing me how that $27 million was looking.

Bank accounts and securities are nicer investments than restaurants and car washes, because you never have to worry about the cops shutting down your stock fund because somebody is selling cocaine out the back door.

But again, I'm not pointing any fingers. I'm just explaining the world view that I understand best. The athlete's world remains a mystery.

It reminds me of the great Steve Martin joke about what he did when he got rich and famous, and ended up going through a fortune like General Sherman through Atlanta.

Martin said that his new wealth had allowed him to buy "some pretty good stuff. Got me a $300 pair of socks, got a fur sink ... let's see ... an electric dog-polisher, a gasoline-powered turtleneck sweater ... and of course I bought some dumb stuff, too."