When you have a 14-year-old-daughter you quickly learn that her career choices tend to change faster than the postings on her Facebook wall or her brand preferences, which can be fanatical one day and "so over" the next. It wasn't so long ago that she was going to "study in Paris and become a chocolate maker." That was followed by working with "adoption agencies to place kids." During the just-ended baseball playoffs she announced she wanted to become a "manager" or "whoever makes the rules for the players."

This decision was driven partly by our neighbor across the street inviting her to the final game of the American League Championship at Yankee Stadium, but her interest reached zealot status during the World Series. Her mission is not to reorganize the batting lineups or pitching rotations, or even give signals to the base runners. It is -- as she said vehemently at each offense -- to "Get them to stop spitting on the field."

No amount of lore about the MLB legacy of tobacco chawin' came anywhere close to dissuading her from her position that it is "just disgusting." It did not help that virtually every time Fox came in tight on a player close up (no matter if at the plate, on the mound, on the bases, in the field or on the bench) they immediately dribbled a loogy.

"See! See? They did it again!" became a clarion call in our family room, overriding whatever the game situation on the Big Screen TV. Having been thus sensitized (like back when Lucy used to drive Charlie Brown crazy by making him "aware of his tongue") I couldn't help BUT notice that baseball players indeed spit all the time, throughout the entire game, and not just in stressful situations. Guys eight places down the reliever chart, who wouldn't pitch in the game unless it went 27 or more innings, still sat in the bullpen spitting away. All of this really concerned my daughter, since most fields are now artificial turf and she likened it to "spitting on the carpet at your office." A cogent observation, to be sure.

Now, I played football, basketball and baseball growing up, and through a series of not altogether happy circumstances, found myself on national TV playing in the Gator Bowl, a situation one might consider to be stressful for a 21-year-old. Did I spit on the field? No. Did I ever spit on a playing field? Absolutely. Did I spit every 10 or 15 seconds like the big leaguers do? Never. If I was in a World Series game would I spit all the time? Nope (perhaps pee down my leg once or twice, but not spit).

I am certain there is some perfectly logical physiological reason why baseball players have the urge to spit throughout the game -- but fair warning, if my daughter ever becomes your manager, there could be some serious fines handed out. Congrats, Yankees. Spit and all.

This commentary is insightful. I recommend it to others.