Friday column: Messed-up priorities abound

Lorena Ochoa always seemed to have a proper perspective.

Yes, she was probably a little too polite and treated people too well to be a true competitor, but look what she did on the golf course:

Thirty titles in eight years, 27 of them on the LPGA tour. For three years running, she’s been the world’s top female player and its biggest draw, and, at 28, would seem to be poised to dominate the game for many more years.

If it weren’t for this procreation thing.

Reportedly, the recently married Mexican star wants to start a family and so today is scheduled to announce her retirement. Ochoa apparently thinks that bringing new human beings into the world and rearing them more important than winning golf tournaments.

People can be so disappointing.

Myron Rolle, for instance.

At Florida State, Rolle was on his way to becoming a first- or second-round pick in the National Football League when he made a bad decision.

I know what you’re thinking: Bad decision? I’ve heard that phrase before. What did he do? Get busted for drugs? Knock over a liquor store. Grope the dean’s daughter?

No, it’s much worse than that.

He applied to become a Rhodes Scholar — and won. Worse still, he actually went to Oxford University and studied medical anthropology — yes, you heard me — and in doing so lost an entire year of football. Can you believe it?

Now, back on the right side of “the pond,” the safety is trying to convince the NFL — the enterprise that drafted the likes of Ben Roethlisberger, Pacman Jones and Plaxico Burress — that he’s not too intelligent to play professional football.

Considering his stated desire to be a neurosurgeon, I have four words for Mr. Rolle: Good luck with that.

And good luck to Grant Desme, baseball’s poster boy for skewed priorities.

Last year in the minors, the former Oakland Athletics prospect hit .288 with 31 home runs, 89 RBIs and 40 stolen bases in just 131 games. He also performed well enough in the Arizona Fall League to be named its Most Valuable Player.

Gushed Keith Lieppman, A’s director of player development, “He looks like the complete package.”

Then — are you sitting down? — Desme decided he wanted to become a priest. This summer, instead of patrolling the outfield in a beautiful park somewhere, he’ll be cooped up in a stuffy seminary, studying (shudder) theology.

“I love the game, but I aspire to higher things,” Desme said.

If Desme had done well this spring, he could have been called up to the major leagues — the bigs, The Show. Higher things? What in the world is he talking about?

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.