For pitchers it's a long walk: from the mound to the dugout: when removed from a game in the middle of an inning, hurlers often face ridicule from fans during their lonely exit from the playing field.

IT MIGHT BE THE MOST HUMILIATING moment in sports.

Where else, after all, is an athlete forced to endure the embarrassment and ridicule a major league pitcher must withstand every time he's removed from a game in the middle of an inning? First he has to wait for the manager to make the slow walk to the mound--a trek made unbearably slower by the fact most managers are in their 50s and 60s and aren't in a hurry anyway. Then, after handing the ball over, the pitcher has to make that same march back to the dugout alone.

"It's a long walk, I know that," said Houston starter Roy Oswalt. "Especially if you've given a lot of runs up."

Adds Marlins reliever Matt Perisho: "People boo. You get booed in your own ballpark."

Only in baseball, then, must an athlete face public scorn for a poor performance. In football, if a receiver drops a sure touchdown pass, he can simply step off the field and hide among the teammates, photographers and game officials crowding the sidelines. In basketball and hockey, the action is so fluid, and substitutions so frequent, that little notice is paid to a single player being summoned to the bench. And even in soccer, the embarrassment of missing an open net is quickly forgotten since the match continues without pause.

In baseball, however, not only is the game stopped to focus attention on the pitcher's failures, but he's made to accept that ridicule while standing atop the highest point on the field, giving everyone a better look. And if he's on the road, the slow shuffle off the field is likely to be accompanied by Steam's Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye).

"I run," the Marlins' Dontrelle Willis said when asked how he deals with the moment. "It's hard, because you know you're done. Your day is done, whether you went two innings or seven innings."