Quality moments of limit-testing are visible in many sports. Anyone who claims that baseball is boring lacks an understanding of this side of athletics. When Andruw Jones dives to make a spectacular grab in center field, the drama of the individual catch transcends the immediate circumstances of the play. Even the most devout Met fan has to express approval after such a catch because--if only for a second--the score that matters isn't Mets 3, Braves 2. It's Man 1, Limitations 0. The athlete has surprised himself and enchanted us all.

The most appealing part of this aspect of sport is that its simplicity makes it accessible to all of us. It's what feels so good about trying to tack another 20 pounds to the weight machine or shooting free throws at the MAC. It's something I myself felt when I returned to biking late last summer after tearing knee ligaments in May. The beauty of surprising yourself is there for the taking. Go try.

Or, go to a place where you can watch others. For me, the best place will always be the Garden, regardless of the sport. It's a good place for me to look up and see Reed's No. 19 hanging from the Garden rafters and envision Sergei Bubka soaring through the air seemingly just inches below it, close enough to touch the banner if he really wanted to.