DES MOINES - Reality became a river running through the living room, a knock on the door at 3 a.m., dirty brown water where a bright green infield used to be.

This week, we dealt with the flood, the kind of crisis that only a few could have imagined in their darkest nightmares. Problems stalked us; there seemed to be nowhere to turn for many Iowans.

While fiction changed to fact, the sports world moved forward, perhaps at a slower pace. Yet the waters made things look unreal, almost a ghost image. It was nearly impossible to see an athlete clearly - present or former.

Gale Sayers came to Mudd Advertising early in this worst of weeks. Sayers, the Hall of Famer, performed like a magician in a helmet when he ran for the Chicago Bears. He wanted to promote the Gale Sayers Center, a place intended to educate youth in south Chicago. It's a noble cause, and the old Bear deserves support.

As I watched Sayers, though, he couldn't make the rising waters of the Cedar disappear. Even something so worthwhile as an educational center, something that existed only on paper, could still be touched by rising water. What would happen to a potential Cedar Valley donor or a business who had to think first of putting life back in order after the flood? What a shame.

A young woman brought the press conference at Mudd Advertising to an end by saying, "We'd like to keep Mr. Sayers on schedule." Right there, I wondered. What happens to everyone's schedule when reality becomes a river running through it?

By the end of the week, I sat in Drake Stadium and watched the NCAA Outdoor Track and Field Championships. Early Wednesday, Des Moines began grappling with the ghost of 1993. The water supply would be safe this time, city officials said. Conversely, bridges into downtown closed. The best path to Drake University ran right down I-235.

Reality became lightning that touched the horizon from end to end. Officials stopped the meet Wednesday for 2 hours, 40 minutes. Then events resumed and the NCAA Outdoor marched forward with no interruption through the next few days.

Drake Stadium faced no danger from flood waters. Meanwhile, the sprinters sprinted, the jumpers jumped, the throwers threw.

Yet, the presence of world-class athletes looked like a mirage. The real events took place only a few miles away, where City Hall closed and people left their homes. The real thing was also hearing that the Courier, the place where I had worked for nearly 25 years, had to be abandoned, although only for a while.

So I watched the athletes, all the while glancing over my shoulder. Did we belong here?

The answer came. A few small things - things brought to me only by sports - helped put the week in some perspective.

There was Pat Mitchell's voice. Mitchell, the Cedar Falls football coach, had to leave his home, as did so many others. He returned and sounded upbeat during a phone conversation. He was ready to go on.

There were the kind words in the press box. Reporters from places like Tallahassee and Baton Rouge asked about the Cedar Valley. The man from Louisiana told me about a relative who'd lost a home to Hurricane Katrina.

There was Mat Clark, the Northern Iowa decathlete who found a way to finish despite a torn ligament in his elbow and a gimpy knee. He soldiered on.

We all did. The sports world was not at all important this week. But it showed that we can still get up in the morning, still do good work, still enjoy life.

Little victories and simple pleasures won't be easy for thousands to find for a long time. Eventually, they will find them in the image of an NFL great. They will see them at a track meet, a ballgame or the 18th green.

That, too, is reality.

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