By MONTE DUTTON

Sports ain’t real, man. It’s better than real life.

Most of my life has been devoted to it. I’ve relished that it’s not real. It’s microcosmic, perhaps in too many ways. I fear it’s becoming macrocosmic.

True Grit isn’t a real depiction of the Old West. It’s entertaining. I loved both film versions of Charles Portis’s novel. Rooster Cogburn isn’t real, even if John Wayne and Jeff Bridges made it seem that way.

Clinton and Laurens playing each other in football has little to do with the relative merits of the two towns, the two school districts or the overall character of the youths. The winners prefer to think so. If the Tigers beat the Gamecocks, the Clemson man (or woman) feels personally superior for the most trivial of reasons.

My college’s semi-professional team beat yours. Thus am I better than you in all ways.

I’m guilty. Hell, I can’t stand The Citadel, the New York Yankees and the Dallas Cowboys. Time has moderated most of my character flaws, but not those three. I ask forgiveness for these sins every night.

As these words are written, I find myself rooting for Wofford in the NCAA baseball playoffs. This is astonishing. I cite (a.) a lifelong affinity for the underdog, (b.) the Terriers’ impressive performance in the Southern Conference tournament, and (c.) Furman’s unwillingness to field a team.

See? It’s made me crazy.

This country needs to get back to the Age of Aquarius. Alleged experts don’t agree on when it is or was, but I’m not an astrology buff and prefer to think of it as a state of mind.

The “come to Jesus” moment should occasionally come to peace, love, forgiveness, honesty, compassion and civility.

As Tom T. Hall wrote and sang, “Lord, if I judge ‘em, let me give ‘em lots of room.”

He also wrote and sang, “I know there’s a lot of big preachers who know a lot more than I do, but it could be that the Good Lord likes a little pickin’, too.”

I reckon I’m kind of banking on the gospel of Tom T. May he rest in peace.

Now I’m going back to letting the players play, the coaches coach, the officials officiate, the preachers preach, the bankers bank, the workers work … etc.

I’ll return now to my chosen task of translating sports into English and flirting with disaster.

Justin Bethel, one of the last vestiges of an era when small-college athletes actually stayed there, is the first Presbyterian College football inductee in the Big South Conference Hall of Fame.

The Miami Dolphins cornerback has made three Pro Bowls as a special-teams specialist and is active in the NFL at age 33. Bethel is playing for his fifth team.

Only three football players are enshrined in the conference hall. PC is unlikely to produce another since the Blue Hose no longer compete in the league in football.

Joining Clayton Almeida and Mark Cooke (Winthrop men’s tennis and softball, respectively) in the latest class, Bethel was Big South Defensive Player of the Year in 2011 and made the 2010-19 all-decade team.

I like officials, whether they’re umpires, clock operators, back judges or replay officials. They get paid but not enough.

I don’t always agree with them, but I give allowances for thankless tasks. Imperfections lie in every field of endeavor. Officials make no more mistakes than coaches, athletes and sportswriters.

I don’t believe a base umpire from Elloree calls a game in Goose Creek with the notion that he’ll do whatever it takes to allow a team from McBee to win. I don’t believe the dad of the McBee first baseman slips the ump a wad of bills before the game and says, a la Rodney Dangerfield, “Keep it fair, nowumsayin?”

Besides, if a fellow was going to pay off an umpire, he’d use Venmo.

And not only do I not know who the McBee first baseman is, I haven’t a clue about his dad.

P.S. Wofford finally awakened the slumbering giant. Louisiana State hit four home runs and won, 4-3. Aptly nicknamed “Monster” Milam hit two of them, one righthanded, the other left, the latter winning the game.

The champion of the Southern Conference, Wofford, and the champion of the Big South, High Point, both lost to Tigers, LSU and Clemson, by the same score.

The Keystone Kocks keep merrily advancing. South Carolina committed four more errors – that’s 16 in the last six games – and still managed to surpass James Madison, 8-7, in 10 innings.

The Terriers, Tigers and Gamecocks all played teams primarily clothed in purple. Clemson was clothed only secondarily in purple.

The championship of the National Basketball Association is going to be decided on the basis of which team has best retained its skills.

When the finals start next Thursday, the Dallas Mavericks will play on seven days’ rest and the Boston Celtics on eight.

I would tell you which I think will win, but that would only help you determine which will lose.

I’m collecting advertising bills right now, but they alone will not keep me going. I rely on readers who like the coverage I provide to make contributions.

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