Every now and then, the world of sports does a funny little thing to wake you up and remind you what's really important. It did that twice in the last two weeks.

So while it's nice to talk about the never-saw-it-coming Rams-Titans Super Bowl, it's not really that important. Los Angeles and Houston fans might think that this game is rightfully theirs as these two relocated franchises battle it out, but that doesn't really matter either.

We should recognize that more readily than ever now. On Jan. 12, Bobby Phills was killed as he raced teammate David Wesley in their Porsches. He was going 107 miles an hour, Wesley 110. Last Sunday, Derrick Thomas became a paraplegic and a passenger in his car died as they slid off an icy road.

The two accidents aren't identical, but the lessons they teach mutually reinforce one another: life is a lot more than what takes place on the court or field, and it can change awfully fast. It makes the advertising slogan "Life is short. Play hard." seem dreadfully vacuous.

Phills is no martyr. I'm sure he was a great guy, as everyone was quick to point out when he died. I feel terrible for his wife and two kids as well.

But racing a teammate and going 107 is stupid, reckless, and even worse, could have gotten somebody else killed.

It's terrible that he died, but it would have been even more terrible if he had killed an innocent party and lived. How would you feel if some NBA hot shot, driving his Porsche 107 miles an hour, had killed your father, mother, brother, sister, buddy, significant other, or spouse?

It would just reinforce all your stereotypes of the arrogant, out-of-touch athlete who thinks he's above the law. What makes Phills's death different from that of any other guy who kills himself speeding? The answer should be nothing.

When I found out what was going on when Phills died, my sympathy meter dropped, at least temporarily. His friends now say that driving fast was one of his vices, something that was part of him. So it's silly to pretend that Phills was perfect, as so many of the early reports made him seem. No one is perfect, and it sometimes seems that athletes are especially not.

Still, what we have to take from this is that life is fleeting. Phills was only 30, with a bright future ahead of him. His service to the community was outstanding. His basketball skills, especially as a defender, were great. I believe everyone who says he was a good person.

Who knows when we'll go? The point is what we do while we're here, and how we'll be remembered by the people we leave behind.

The Thomas case is just as devastating, however. The statement "It could have happened to anyone" really applies. The same day that he got into that accident, 11 people died on Kansas City roads.

Thomas wasn't wearing a seatbelt. Neither was the passenger who died. The passenger who was went home from the hospital right away. Not buckling up on a day when the roads were icy was obviously foolish. I don't know if this was the way he drove or if he just forgot. I really hope it's not the latter--that would be too cruel.

But now Thomas has to live the rest of his life without being able to use his legs. This man once had 20 sacks in a single season. He once had seven in a single game. He was explosive, a speed rusher who had some power, and was for a time the single defender opposing offenses had to worry about the most, a la Lawrence Taylor.

Now he can't feel anything below his waist.

Realizations like this can come in the oddest way. In both cases, I found out when I double-clicked on Netscape and the browser opened up to my sports site homepage. Just like that, two athletes I had been watching for the past decade, the part of my sports-watching life that I will remember best, were gone, one dead and one mangled.

Why does it look like Thomas can never walk again when former NBA player Sedale Threatt, who was driving drunk at over 100 miles an hour when he was ejected out of his car, can?

All I can say is that God has a plan, although it's pretty hard to understand sometimes. We feel invincible, especially here at Harvard. We're young, talented, and appear to have the world at our feet. But Phills and Thomas were young and talented, too.

Should we buckle up and drive closer to the limit? Undoubtedly. But if that's all we take out of this, we're cheating ourselves and cheapening what happened to Phills and Thomas. We're not as in control of our lives as we think. For the most part, we're along for the ride.

So enjoy it, appreciate it, and realize your own limitations. For me, The Ultimate lies in organized religion. For you, hopefully it's something, if not that.

Life is short. Pray hard.