I remember a frantic call from my boyfriend at 9 a.m. on Sept. 11, 2001 telling me to get off the highway and turn on the TV.

I remember sitting alone in my apartment, stunned while the images of death and destruction flashed before my eyes.

An hour later, I rushed to the newsroom where I worked with colleagues to get the news out. CNN blared in the background, giving up-to-the-minute updates. Every so often, a video clip showed the United States' two majestic buildings crumble to the ground.

I remember tearfully trying to reach my old college teammate that day who then lived mere blocks away from the World Trade Center towers. No luck, the phone and power lines were out in her dorm.

Thirteen hours later I remember returning home, both physically and emotionally exhausted from all I had experienced. I tuned in to CNN to see if I'd missed any breaking news on the way home.

And then, after being surrounded by tragedy for weeks, I remember having had enough. I needed comfort: reassurance that everything would be OK, that my teammate had been out of town at an away game that day, that none of my relatives were on an airplane that morning. There was no comfort in the news, so I tried to escape the best way I knew how - I turned the channel to ESPN and watched SportsCenter.

And for the first time since that horrible Tuesday morning, I relaxed. Of course I still remembered everything that had happened, but it was pushed to the back of my mind for a few peaceful hours as I lay in bed watching baseball before drifting off to sleep.

Now our country is engaged in war. Eyebrows have been raised about the role of NCAA basketball tournaments - and sports in general - during war. Should they even continue in the wake of what's happening? How frivolous is enjoying an athletic event when people are dying for their country overseas?

Speaking for myself, sports are everything. My every waking moment is spent watching, reading, writing, covering, arguing or playing sports, so it's only natural for me to use them as my security blanket when things don't go as they should.

I'll be the first to agree, that in the grand scheme of things, the competition in athletics can't compare to that of war. Our soldiers are doing much more than playing a game, they're fighting for freedom.

But you will never, ever hear me utter the words "it's just a game." Some of the highest highs and the lowest lows in my life have involved sporting events, both playing and watching. Ask a die-hard fan of any genre, I'm sure you'll get the same response. Sure, verbal arguments with a Cubs fan during a Tigers game might seem absurd in times like this, but the Cubbie and I share a common bond - no, not a losing team - the fighting spirit and passion found in all Americans.

Yes, war is horrible and it can do awful things to a nation, but we must continue with life. Remove our entertainment, our means of escape, and you're taking away the same joie de vivre we've fought so hard to keep during the past 227 years.

I don't want permission to forget completely, but instead a short-term release. Just like a tough class, there's only so much a person can handle. And considering the seriousness of our military situation, I don't think it's too much to ask to be able to get away from it all, if only for a few hours.

The same frantic boyfriend is now stationed in Hawaii, waiting each day for the word he has dreaded most - deployment. Yet every day we talk and he's not asking where I think they'll send him, but instead, about Big Al's hook shot and what I think the Spartans' chances are to run the table this March. Sports help him to cope, too.

He's the last person I'd want to deny a well-deserved break from stress. After all, he's defending our country.

Dawn Klemish, women's basketball reporter, wants to know what you think about sports and the war. She can be reached at klemishd@msu.edu.