That "He Hate Me 30" jersey worn by Las Vegas Outlaw running back Rod Smart in the XFL's opening act may symbolize more than Rod's little paranoid fantasy. It also could be speaking to any of the many critics who were so offended by the maverick league way before the opening loose ball.

Sorry, guys, this is not Fall of the Roman Empire II. And anyway, given the recent turn of the screw in sports, you'd think people wouldn't be in such a rush to judgment.

Who'd have thought six months ago that two of the Super Bowl's heroes would be Ray Lewis and Trent Dilfer? Andre Agassi's redemption came a while ago, so he wasn't such a surprise winner at the Australian Open, but Jennifer Capriati? Yes, that was Theo Fleury -- shot down last April in New York, New York -- in Denver last weekend with the All-Stars. And how about those former Twin Towers of Trouble, Mase and Spree, named to the East squad for the NBA's midseason "classic"?

Sure, some guys are unredeemable -- that Penguin goon Billy Tibbetts comes to mind, and, come to think of it, so does Vince McMahon. But coming soon to a sports page near you, back-on-top stories about Pitino, Daly, Sosa and Green. Call it the Costner Cycle: you know, Bull Durham to Waterworld to Thirteen Days.

He Hate Me? Well, that cheerleader stuff did redefine over-the-top, and Mount Union could have smacked down the Hitmen or the Outlaws. But we kind of liked the fourth-wall-shattering chats and the bad-dream camera angles. And it was sure nice to hear from The Goose again at 14:59 of his fame.

No, we don't hate you, Hate Me. Not yet.

This essay kicks off the February 19 issue of ESPN The Magazine, of which Steve Wulf is executive editor. E-mail him at steve.wulf@espnmag.com.