All-Ego Sports Team isn't lacking for names

What came first, the ego or the egg? Does success make you confident or does confidence make you a success?

In the sports world, you'd be hard-pressed to find a major star without a double scoop of chutzpah. It's a requirement of war.

Even decent guys like Pete Carroll, Joe Torre and Al Michaels all have an inner strength, a sort of sports gravitas.

But the following list isn't about steely self-confidence. It's about bloated ego, about heads too big for the helmet, and mouths too big for the microphone. It's about the real-life Apollo Creeds. Being merely obnoxious doesn't get you on this list. You have to be seven flavors of insufferable.

So, for a moment, put aside your all-pros and your all-stars. Here's the first-ever All-Ego Sports Team. Really, we're just here to help:

First team

Al Davis, team owner. If ego were chocolate, he'd be Hershey, Pa. Once upon a time, his awful behind-the-scenes antics produced nasty but effective teams. Now his awful behind-the-scene antics produce laughably bad teams. Compared with this guy, Attila the Hun was a cupcake.

Barry Bonds, baseball player. He's the most prolific home run hitter of all time and still can't get a gig. Why? Maybe it's because he's clubhouse poison. Maybe because he may be headed for jail. Was Willie Mays really his godfather? What happened there?

Charlie Weis, football coach. Casts about the gridiron like McClernand at Vicksburg. Certainly not the first coach at Notre Dame with a God complex, just the lamest. Call him the Round Mound of Hallowed Ground.

The Duke student section. Listen up, you little punks. Pride in your team is one thing. But you've helped turn college hoops into a rancorous R-rated spectacle, from which mothers shield their young 'uns. I guess sportsmanship wasn't an essay question on the SATs.

Bob Costas, broadcaster. I have friends who really admire Costas. So I'm getting new friends. Not everyone can have the easy charm of a John Madden or a Cris Collinsworth. But Costas just oozes arrogance.

Kobe Bryant, basketball player. Men are from Venus, Kobe's from Mars. His behavior during the Olympics went a long way toward improving his image. But an All-Ego team without Kobe would be like an All-Midget team without . . . well, me.

Alex Rodriguez, baseball player. The way he finagled a new contract in 2007 was churlish and an insult to an organization that treated him well. Now he has left his wife to hang out with strippers and movie stars. A-Rod? More like A-Bomb.