During the run-up to last year's presidential election, I got so disgusted with all the political blather on the airwaves that I scanned up and down the radio dial for refuge.

I found it at the ESPN station, where there is absolutely no chance of "real" news creeping into the conversation. Forget about nukes in North Korea and CIA leaks. How much is Terrell Owens holding out for now and when is Barry Bonds' right knee going to heal?

Now, I like sports — played 'em and watched 'em for most of my life. Still do. But there are people like me who like sports, and there are people who LIKE sports. Like the ones who listen to ESPN radio, and 99 out of 100 of them are men.

It doesn't take much listening to ESPN radio before you come to understand that sports is a guy's world and vice versa. The rest of us are pretty much the visiting team. This is instructive for women who wonder why their male partners get that far-off look when the the subject is household matters or having your family over for Sunday dinner; it's because the guys are pondering whether the sorry 49ers can win at least five games next season or making mental trades for their fantasy baseball team.

Women, too, have interests that tend to be gender-exclusive — fashion, shopping, homemaking and relationships — but as far as I know we don't have the equivalent of an ESPN, a 24/7 outlet devoted to a single pursuit, and where minutiae is taken to dizzying heights.

Here's another thing that separates the sexes: ESPN star Dan Patrick has this schtick that encourages callers to give their height and weight before delivering their comments, and a bell dings when they do. Nearly all of the callers offer this vital information, even when they know Phil the Show Killer is ready to pounce.

Mike from Sacramento: "6 feet, 245 pounds." Ding.

Phil the Show Killer: "Beefy!"

James from Atlanta: "5-8, 320." Ding.

Phil: "Faaat!"

Christie from Hawai'i: "5-10, 135 pounds."

OK, this is radio. You can lie about your weight and Dan and Phil would be none the wiser. Yet, their callers apparently haven't figured this out or couldn't care less about being humiliated before a national listening audience than they do about whether the Lakers can make the playoffs with the triangle offense.

Most women would rather sacrifice their credit cards and kitchen appliances than reveal their true weight, even anonymously on the radio.

I guess we all have our obsessions, don't we?