I've lost hair and gained weight.

I've swapped baseball cards for credit cards.

Something else has changed over time. When the Minnesota Twins get ready to unload another star left-handed pitcher, I no longer get angry.

My response to the word that Johan Santana had officially gone on the block? I rolled over, grabbed an extra blanket, resumed my nap and woke up half the neighborhood's dogs with persistent snoring.

Now, some of you might interpret that performance as the tax a middle-ager must pay to time. Personally, I choose to look upon it as a product of wisdom. My loyalty has survived untimely departures, ugly contract disputes and the short-lived career of Willie Norwood, a truly bad Twins outfielder who inspired one of the great pieces of analysis in Major League history.

"Willie Norwood?" said a broadcaster named Dave Sheehan in 1978. "He can't catch his breath!"

Two decades ago, the departing lefty was Frank Viola. He had played a key role in the 1987 World Series victory and then won the Cy Young Award a year later. By 1989, Viola and the Twins couldn't agree on a new deal. The talks turned nasty. Fans booed their one-time hero, who prepared to leave at the end of the year.

So the Twins made a deal, sending Viola to the Mets for a lot of unknown soldiers and a veteran pitcher named Rick Aguilera. More than a few people believed that New York had fleeced Minnesota.

It didn't quite turn out that way. One of the mystery guests, right-hander Kevin Tapani, became a fixture in the Twins' rotation. Aguilera replaced another departing free agent, Jeff Reardon, as the closer. Two years after Viola and the Twins split, Minnesota won the World Series.

Viola? He had a great 1990 with the Mets, finished under .500 the next year and then left shortly thereafter.

The lesson here is these situations evolve. What looks like a bad trade on Monday may be a great deal by Tuesday. So why worry?

Besides, the Viola situation and Santana's status are part of baseball's never-ending cycle.

Given the rules of the economic game, small-market teams are always going to improvise, scramble, unload, reload and hope for the best. The big men, when they choose, will pluck the best from the rest. And those rules aren't changing any time soon. The Knicks will be a great team before that happens.

At this stage of life as a fan, the best thing to do is sit back and enjoy the show. Try to laugh because it's a waste of time to whine.

For instance, a New York reporter asked Yankee catcher Jorge Posada about acquiring Santana. "I would love to have him," said Posada.

Oh, really? Now there's a shocker.

Personally, I would have loved to hear Posada say, "Santana? No way I want a Cy Young winner on this ballclub. What fun would that be, catching a guy who throws strikes? Give me somebody from that Oriole staff that gave up 30 runs to the Rangers. Hey, I'd never touch the ball behind the plate."

The mentality that some of the teams bring to the Santana sweepstakes is amazing. For instance, a few experts believe the Red Sox don't really need the left-hander, but they want to keep him out of Yankee pinstripes.

Nobody operates that way in the real world. How many times does a shopper go to a car dealer and say, "I'll pay you three times what the last Cadillac on your lot is worth because I don't want my neighbor Jones to get it."

People in my tax bracket can't afford to buy a floor mat for a Caddy, let alone the whole thing.

Nonetheless, the Santana talks are heating up. The Red Sox are in. So are the Yankees, the Dodgers, the Angels and even the Mariners. Sadly, the Fort Wayne Kekiongas cannot join the bidding. What a shame.

Named after a native American settlement in the area, the Fort Wayne Kekiongas won the first professional baseball game played in May of 1871, beating the Cleveland Forest Citys.

According to Wikipedia, the franchise fee for the Kekiongas and other members of the National Association of Professional Base-Ball players was $10.

When I found that out, I was wide awake. Now, if we could only put Johan Santana's status to bed and get him back in a Twins uniform.