By now, most reasonable Americans agree that John Rocker is loud and dumb, and needs a powerful lesson in compassion. Still, there are two questions that linger in the wake of Commissioner Bud Selig's edict that the Braves' reliever undergo psychiatric testing:

Does Rocker's vitriol against minorities necessarily mean he's mentally ill? And just how far should Major League Baseball go in punishing a man for his beliefs -- no matter how abhorrent they may be?

	John Rocker has reportedly already undergone one psychological testing session.

But if Selig can publicly question the mental stability of those whose political beliefs offend him -- and in fact, march them into a psychiatrist's office, under threat of disciplinary action -- then baseball has lost touch with an unalienable American right.

And that is, free speech. Even for jerks like Rocker.

Obviously, the left-hander's comments were indefensible, and we're quite sure his intolerance extends beyond gays and third-worlders. I can only imagine what Rocker thinks of my mother's Brazilian heritage, and Latinos in general. Given another few minutes with Sports Illustrated, Rocker would've certainly turned his wrath on the entire rainbow spectrum.

But Selig would be just as wrong to cave into political pressure now and suspend the pitcher. The Braves would be equally foolish to release Rocker before spring training. Doing so would spare him the real punishment he deserves, and that is: facing the Braves in a closed-door meeting and telling them he's sorry.

Rocker should have to look Brian Jordan and Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux in the eye, explain just what he meant when he told the SI reporter, "I'm not a very big fan of foreigners. You can walk an entire block in Times Square and not hear anybody speaking English."

Rocker should be forced to squirm through his apology and then live day-to-day with these same Braves for an entire season. If he's driven away from baseball, Rocker will only retreat back to Macon, Ga., without ever having to confront how wrong he was.

Still, many activists are eager to see Rocker unemployed, waiting on some soup line. Never again to be allowed to throw another fastball.

But is it really fair to deny a man his livelihood on the basis of his ignorance? To do so would be just as black-hearted and intolerant as the beliefs that Rocker espouses. Without a second chance, he will never learn the meaning of redemption.

That's why, as part of Rocker's rehabilitation, he should be forced to take the No. 7 train to Shea Stadium every single time the Braves visit New York. Hopefully, his therapist will be an African-American. And the next time Rocker takes a cab to the airport, we pray an Asian woman is driving.

And if that's not enough for the legions of the politically correct, then we suggest hurting the Braves in a way that Ted Turner would understand best: stop going to Braves games. Or simply walk out of the ballpark every time Rocker takes the mound -- drying up concession-sales.

But to crush Rocker in a tidal wave of anger demeans us all. He is to be pitied, then educated, and maybe someday, enlightened. But we cannot hate John Rocker and still consider ourselves soldiers of compassion.

That's a stunning amount of money for a player who issued an open challenge to Bobby Valentine's authority this year, not to mention one who was caught playing cards with Rickey Henderson in the final three innings of Game Six of the NL Championship Series in Atlanta last October.

Apparently, saving handfuls of millions today was far more important to co-owner Fred Wilpon, since he's on the verge of selling the Mets to Cablevision, and therefore has no intention of ever paying Bonilla the deferred cash out of his own pocket.

Instead, it'll be Cablevision chief Charles Dolan's financial burden. In the meantime, the Mets have the extra resources to lure Mike Hampton into a long-term deal before he tests free agency next winter. If Bonilla's $5.9 million is all it takes, it was the best deal in Shea's history.

Granted, he was a rude, obnoxious man who made life miserable for everyone around him -- teammates included. And Rice's anti-social behavior has hurt him badly in his first six years on the ballot.

But maybe now voters will look more generously on Rice's 16-year career at Fenway, during which he had seven .300 seasons, hit 20-plus homers 11 times, and had eight 100-plus RBI seasons. Those numbers are hard to ignore.