So, soon after the presents are open, everyone’s on the phone sharing “what I got” stories and deftly trying to remember what it was the person on the other end got them.

It’s not that it wasn’t nice and appreciated; it’s just that the pile of wrapping paper got so high, who got what got a little confusing.

Here is my call to you, on the sporting side of what I got for Christmas. From the lady who suffers through my stories of woes on the road, all that travel from game to game that I detest so much, came a Bose headset that wipes out every sound but the sweet tinkling of the ivories on a Billy Taylor CD.

Glory! No more yapping dog under the seat in 14B, no more screaming kid in 24D who should have been left at Willy Wonka’s factory, no more Mr. Businessman in 12C who’s arguing with his partner on the phone about widgets and no more whining from the women in 3F who actually thinks there is still supposed to be service on airplanes.

Those of us who cover sports and have to travel to do it, wish much evil on those above and their like. Now I can be a better person and just ignore it all as the jazz goes on while I head to beautiful downtown Buffalo in January to broadcast a hockey game.

From my daughter came a little book with the wisdom of Mr. Rogers, the late Fred Rogers of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood. When I broadcast games of any kind in Pittsburgh, producers cringe. “Listen,” said a dear friend who produces baseball games with me, “do whatever you want in the open, but please don’t throw in Mr. Rogers this time.”

We rehearsed the open and there was no mention of that hero of mine. Of course, when we went on the air live, my first words were, “Welcome to Pittsburgh for the Pirates and the Dodgers, direct from Mr. Rogers’ neighborhood.”

Mr. Rogers’ PBS show came from WQED in Pittsburgh, his hometown. I never miss a chance to mention America’s favorite neighbor.

From this little book comes a Mr. Rogers thought: “The greatest gift you ever give is your honest self.” My honest self says I love Mr. Rogers. Whenever I start obsessing about the overblown world of sports, I now have this book of “Important Things to Remember” and none of them have anything to do with sports.

In the mail came a card with a color picture of some green helmeted, bushy eye browed, bigheaded football mascot standing next to Marty Aronoff, the statistician gracious enough to work with me in baseball and football for over a decade. He is a genius. He is also one hell of a guy and friend.

Every year he sends a Christmas card standing next to some sports mascot, and every year I laugh.

He reminds me of how lucky I am to work with some pretty great people. Once we cut through the travel and endless chest pumping of so many in sports, we find each other and take time to actually enjoy the games and then forget them faster then they were played.

All in all, it was a great Christmas, and I hope yours was, too. If you don’t celebrate Christmas, the wish to you for joy and good will is the same. Remember, we’re all part of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood.

Old Town native Gary Thorne is an ESPN and NBC sportscaster.