"If you are what you say you are, a superstar

Then have no fear, the camera's here

And the microphones, and they wanna know-oh-oh."

It could be about anything. But those three lines capture our sports culture, do they not? Everybody is a superstar, or thinks they're a superstar, or wants to think they're a superstar. To think that the camera, microphones, TMZ and reality-show acclaim wait for them.

Pros think it. High school and college athletes, and their parents, think it. Little kids aware enough to pattern behavior on stuff they see, think it. All operate within a bubble of insecurity now where there actually is great fear - of not getting respect, of not getting glory, of not getting paid.

I'm no sociologist. It's just obvious to anybody who looks at or listens to sports even on a casual level. There still is no "I" in team, as the quaint coaching slogan denotes. But there certainly is an "M" and an "E," baby, which is why coaching sports grows more complicated and frustrating all the time.

We lost, but I got mine, yo. No big. That sort of thing.

It's a treacherous battleground. Coaches want to make it about the team. More and more players want to make it about them. There is inevitable fallout when the train tracks intersect and spark an ugly crash of personality and will.

Tell you what got me started this time. LenDale White, a third-year running back for the Tennessee Titans out of Southern California.

I honestly used to know very little else about White beyond his name and rank. I knew he gained 1,100 yards last year, he has scored 11 touchdowns this season, and that he's on probation for some disturbing the peace incident last March in Denver.

But now I know something else about LenDale White. I know he's a moron.

The Titans lost Sunday, for the first time in 11 games this season, to the New York Jets . That is, the Titans just ended an amazing 2? months of team success that makes them 10-1, which is great in any league but really great in the NFL.

But White certainly did not get his Sunday. For some reason, he carried the ball just once and lost one yard. And that troubled him much worse than the defeat.

So White, with the usual camera and microphones there in the Titans' locker room, composed his thoughts, adopted his best pouty-superstar air, and offered this glimpse into his soul:

"I only played three plays, so I couldn't really tell you, like, what happened. I don't really know. I wasn't paying attention, so I didn't care."

He did not pay attention. He did not care.

White rambled some more about how he was disappointed and baffled over his short time. I get that. Competitive athletes want to compete, especially in big games. It's hard to bank that fire. Grumble about that. Fine.

But White, who's reportedly making about $1.4 million this year, went and used the "C" word again, which tells you he meant it the first time, when asked if he'd talked to any coaches about his concerns. "I ain't got no conversation for nobody, you know. I don't care."

He did not care. Coach that.

When Tennessee plays Detroit on Thursday, Titans coach Jeff Fisher should show he also does not care - for White's poor impugned feelings. He should give his wanna-be superstar another chance to pay no attention, let alone care.

Not for speaking freely. For speaking moronically, like the team be-damned idiot he is.

Tom Robinson, (757) 446-2518, tom.robinson@pilotonline.com