There's an old joke about an American high school teacher who takes a group of students to Rome. They end up on St. Peter's Square on a day the pope is speaking. When the pope crosses himself, a student turns to the teacher and asks, "What's he doing?"

The teacher scratches his head. "I can't be sure," he says, "but I think the pope is about to shoot a free-throw."

The Christian community calls them "god signs" — those gestures athletes flash to show their belief in a higher power. And the god signs range from Deion Sanders pointing "up to Jesus" as he struts into the end zone, to the Latino ballplayer who — between pitches — quietly forms a cross with his right index finger and thumb.

Displays of Christian devotion have gotten so common, in fact, they've triggered a debate. Are they appropriate?

Writing in Sports Spectrum, the Christian fan magazine, Ted Kluck of ESPN says "no." He believes "god signs" are as self-serving as most everything else modern athletes do. But Allen Palmeri of Pathways Magazine begs to differ. He talks about Albert Pujols of the Cardinals cruising into second base to "joyfully point his right index finger to the Author of all baseball talent." Writes Palmeri:

"The typical fan understands that Albert is religious, so why not give them a whiff of heaven?"

As for me, I thought long and hard about this, then I asked my wife, Carol. Her job is to add a dash of common sense in our marriage. She said that with all the hostility and boasting in sports today, seeing someone actually give credit to God — or anyone else — feels like a breath of fresh air.

She's right, of course. There are so many signs that athletes already flash — obscene gestures, self-important chest thumps, gang signs — that seeing a player draw a cross in the dirt beside the batter's box tends to soften the constant ego trips.

I remember when Tonya Harding skated in the Winter Olympics. She was the "John Daly" of ice skating then; she was pouty and cruel and coarse. Disliking her was wonderfully easy. But as she stepped out onto the ice, I remember her bowing her head and reaching out to touch a nearby wooden pole. Like many young Christians, she was "treeing" her concerns — pinning all her sins, fears, failings and dreams to the cross of Jesus. I couldn't root against her after that. I couldn't root for her, but I couldn't root against her.

Still, in the end, it really doesn't matter what athletes do while they are on the field to show their Christian devotion. What matters are the things they they do away from the field. Talking the talk is one thing. Walking the Christian walk is another.

It all comes down — I think — to a comment by Nelson Akwari, the devout Christian defense specialist on the Real Salt Lake soccer team. I think Akwari uses his head — both on the field and off.

"Regardless of how well I'm playing," says Akwari, "it's my responsibility to be a Christian first and let my life shine to the guys around me . . . any accolades I get from soccer really doesn't matter."

In my book, an athlete with such an attitude is already a star — even sitting on the bench.

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E-mail: jerjohn@desnews.com