I'm not a believer. Not now. Not ever.

"Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show" never spins through my music system.

And I've never, ever worn a sequined outfit in my entire life.

In other words, I'm no Neil Diamond fan. Nevertheless, when I was reminded that a Diamond song called "Sweet Caroline" remains a staple of today's sports culture, I felt vindicated.

In fact, I felt so good, I resisted the temptation to play "Shiny Happy People" over and over for my wife. She swears that the REM tune is the worst thing to happen to music since Vanilla Ice last opened his mouth.

But I'm in no mood to needle her now. Instead, I'm having a flashback to a day 20 years ago when I found myself sentenced to double secret probation for a very innocent remark.

Here's what happened. While in the middle of a discussion about music, I recalled that my mother used to hum to Neil Diamond songs. Mom, a diehard Lawrence Welk fan, thought Frank Sinatra seemed a little avant garde. And she's digging Neil, as much as a middle-aged mom could do that in the 1960s.

I also remembered reading a Life Magazine story about Diamond fans who used to hide his albums in other record jackets to avoid mockery and ridicule.

So I said something like, "You know, there are times when Neil Diamond doesn't sound half-bad."

That's it. I didn't say that I loved The Monkees' version of Diamond's "I'm a Believer." I didn't say that all music students should wear sequins to class.

Yet, like those poor souls from back in the day, I should have hidden my feelings in a jacket - any jacket.

For years, my comrades would walk up to me and ask, "How's Neil?" I heard more bad renditions of "Cracklin' Rosie" than a regular at the karaoke bar. You would have thought that I'd worn socks with sandals, or white after Labor Day, or a Partridge Family T-shirt to a Springsteen show.

Now, they weren't serious, of course. We all knew that Neil Diamond remained a popular artist for years after one-hit wonders like Ricky Martin and Billy Ray Cyrus faded from view. Yet it became clear that Diamond was about as trendy as hula hoops and Model-Ts.

Finally, the hubbub subsided. Years passed. No Neil. Then, something happened. While attending football games, I began to hear "Sweet Caroline" over the public address system - the same song written and performed by that un-hip, un-cool Neil Diamond. For crying out loud, one of the instruments in the original mix was a glockenspiel.

And people love it. From Fenway Park to the Metrodome to Penn State's Happy Valley to Madison Square Garden to Texas Christian University to the four corners of the planet, sports fans sing along.

According to Wikipedia, the entire crowd at the Hong Kong Rugby Sevens often turns into Neil impersonators, belting out "Sweet Caroline" during breaks in the action. It's a staple at Iowa State football games.

Unbelievable. Fans who use the sort of language that would melt granite are warbling a 40-year old pop tune that's about as hard-rocking as elevator music. Guys and girls wearing enough cardinal and gold paint to cover Gene Chizik's house twice are swaying to the music.

The next thing you know, AC/DC will be playing Bingo Night at the local senior citizens center. And David Cassidy will be throwing out the first football soon.

For those about to rock - to Neil Diamond, that is, - I salute you. Have some fun. Enjoy the music. Sure, a few curmudgeons out there will be dismayed, but if you're approached, point out that things could be much worse. Nobody's playing "Feelings," a song that could put a rogue elephant to sleep. The Archies haven't reunited. Paul Anka's "Having My Baby" can't make the cut.

But who knows? Maybe Lawrence Welk's music will get a spin.

I hear some people think he's not half-bad.

Contact Jim Sullivan at (319) 291-1434 or jim.sullivan@wcfcourier.com