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	Tiger Woods  Robert Beck

Every good day begins with a workout, so it's up at sunrise for a run along the beach in Surfer's Paradise, Australia, followed by a bit of bodysurfing and windsurfing. Next up: strength training, hydrotherapy and massage at the Athletes' Performance Institute in Tempe, Ariz. OK, now I feel as if I'm ready to start my day. I keep one rule in mind: no spectating. Why waste a sports fantasy day sitting on your butt?

First up is a round of golf with Tiger Woods at Pebble Beach, but only after we crush a few buckets at the range as Tiger has agreed to be my swing coach for a day. I can't hang with Woods for lunch in the grill after our round because I'm off to Fenway Park for batting practice. I get nothing but pearls to hit -- out-of-the-box major league gameballs -- for as long as I want. I'm not leaving until I drill a few into the screen above the Mahn-sta. (No, wise guy, that doesn't take care of the rest of my 24 hours.)

When I'm ready, I call in that skinny guy warming up in the Sox's pen. I tell Pedro to give me his A stuff: fastball, curveball, change -- only he must tell me what's coming. One of the most amazing sights I've seen is Pedro throwing BP to his teammates. Last year in spring training he told Carl Everett, Trot Nixon and Jason Varitek that changeups were coming, and they still couldn't touch him. They were swinging and missing or fouling it into the netting of the cage. I've got to see this stuff close up.

After I've worn out Pedro, it's off to London for a bit of tennis. Where else but Wimbledon's Centre Court to squeeze in a few sets? I can't stay long because I've got a pickup hoops game scheduled at Madison Square Garden. After a great run at the mecca I zip down to Pine Valley where Tiger is waiting for me on the first tee. He's amazed at how well I'm striking the ball, and getting into his wallet. He's off his game on the back nine, unable to stop shaking his head and muttering "Sandbagger" to himself.

The best part of playing Pine Valley is it's close to home. I'm off to one more fabled sports venue: the McKnight Baseball Complex in Montgomery Township, N.J. My sons have games this night. Here, gladly, I break my no-spectating rule.