It's winter. It's cold. It's gloomy. It's virtually dark when my kids leave for school, and it's virtually dark when they get home. I drive to work, and all I can think of is going home and crawling back in bed. Double covers. I have no energy. What is wrong with me?

Yes, there's Seasonal Affective Disorder, but that's too new age-y for a curmudgeon such as myself. Prisms hanging from the ceiling, herbal tea, burning incense and George Winston records? Not going there.

Then I thought about it some more: How did we get here? People gathered nuts and berries and ate dead animals. And in the winter it was cold and dark and gloomy and there were fewer nuts and berries and dead animals around. So what did people do? They hunkered down in caves, tried to stay as warm as possible and waited until it got warmer.

Essentially they hibernated. Just like bears. They looked for a dry spot. Just like bears. They piled up together to keep warm. Just like bears. Who knows, they might even have grown longer fur. Just like bears.

Now, fast forward to the present. Scientists always are coming out with reports indicating that 90 percent of human genes are about the same as a caterpillar or a tadpole or a fruit fly. Do I look like a fruit fly to you? Don't answer that. We have to have more in common genetically with bears than fruit flies, right?

Right. And scientists also tell us that modern life is changing much faster than our genetic code. We still are wired like bears living in caves even though we have iPods, 300 horsepower blenders, pills for virtually every purpose, 257 new looks for winter (and 93 new ways to have better sex), five wide receiver sets and radar that can find the fish on the bottom of the lake.

I have WHS. Winter Hibernation Syndrome. I laze around like a bear. I sleep well into the double figures like a bear. Try to get me to climb a ladder and put up the Christmas lights, and I growl like a bear.

So now what do we do? Now that I have clearly described the problem, what's to be done? Well, if you feel like a bear, act like a bear. Go back to bed. Turn up the heat, put on some warm socks, find a good book and go back to bed.

A good book? Yes, a good book. And that's where I can help. I'm an incurable reader. I read all day at work. I compartmentalize my daily reading into book, newspaper and magazine sections. I even started a computer file that includes every book I finish.

So ... since I'm a sports editor and this is the consume-mass-quantities season and my books list includes a number of sports volumes, I thought I'd give my faithful readers (if you've gotten this far in this column you deserve a plaque) some options for both gift giving and for using to deal with your inner bear.

"Friday Night Lights: by H.G. Bissinger: I read this one for the second time after watching the film. Great story of high school football culture in Odessa, Texas, although I did not like the film (as I noted in a January column).

"How Soccer Explains the World" by Franklin Foer: Fascinating look at globalization and political issues through the lens of soccer. Grim and funny tales of fans and hooligans in Bosnia, Scotland, England, Brazil, etc.

"The Miracle of Castel di Sangro" by Joe McGinniss: Hilarious tale of a year in the life of the soccer team in a tiny Italian town that somehow qualified for Serie B (second division). Great characters and an unexpected ending.

"The Perfect Mile" by Neil Bascomb: Great book on the competition between Roger Bannister, John Landy and Wes Santee to break the 4-minute mile barrier. Excellent take on an athletics world that no longer exists. Makes you want to go out and run.

"America's Game: The Epic Story of How Pro Football Captured a Nation" by Michael McCambridge: Excellent history of the NFL, which covers its rise to prominence as well as cultural issues such as the impact of race and television.

"When the Game Stands Tall," by Neil Hayes: Absorbing look at the legendary De La Salle High School football program in Concord, Calif. I used to work in the region and know the reporter/author, so perhaps I'm biased. There is a new version out with an update on the end of the school's phenomenal winning streak.

"The Summer of 49," by David Halberstam: Another fine book about a time in which sports was more innocent. Focuses on the Red Sox-Yankees rivalry and the 1949 pennant race.

"A March to Madness," by John Feinstein: Feinstein is one of my favorite sportswriters. He always gets the inside story, in this case about ACC basketball, a sport that is so beyond innocent it isn't funny.

"Joe DiMaggio: the Hero's Life," by Richard Ben Cramer: Just a terrific sports biography. DiMaggio comes across as a complicated, and at times tortured, individual.

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