"What does pouting get you?"

I used to hate hearing those words as a 10-year-old. The inflection of the words, the tone of the voice, the penetrating glare that accompanied the phrase. When I heard those words I knew I was in trouble.

"Hmm … " my mother would hum, still glaring through me, if I wouldn't give her an answer quickly enough.

"Nothing," I would mutter under my breath, barely audible enough to constitute a response.

But the lesson was learned — at the age of 10 — that whining wasn't going to get me anything. Let me just repeat that. At the age of 10.

Yet some have yet to grasp this concept. Unlike my mother, they just don't seem to understand that this type of behavior is not to be tolerated, let alone condoned and awarded.

Of course, I'm not a professional athlete earning seven figures a year to run routes and catch passes. So perhaps I'm the one who is wrong in thinking that whining won't get you anything, though I don't think so.

In case you couldn't tell whom I'm discussing, I'm talking about the man who doesn't even need a name to announce himself, just his initials: Mr. T.O. himself, Terrell Owens.

For some reason, Owens doesn't seem to believe he needs to worry about what people think of him, no matter what he does.

"People hated on Jesus. They threw stones at him and tried to kill him," Owens said earlier this summer. "I don't have to worry about what people think of me."

Admittedly, this is a good philosophy for a sports star, though the Jesus comparison may be a bit overboard. Athletes are put under more scrutiny than anyone else for no other reason than that they are athletes. The spotlight shines bright on these people and it takes a thick skin to be able to handle all the doubts, criticisms and complaints.

However, Owens continually reaches for this light. He yearns for it. He lives for it. Some of you may recall a column I wrote last year after Owens' Super Bowl performance. In that column I praised the perpetually discontent receiver for his gutsy play and the help he gave his team in its quest for a Super Bowl victory.

I stand by what I wrote. Owens' performance was gutsy, but as far as the help it gave his team in their quest, I'm questioning whether or not that was true. Looking back, I was naíve to believe that anything Owens has done has been for the good of his team. It's all about him. Even the Super Bowl performance was for him — it earned him the spotlight.

At least that time he deserved it.

Since then, Owens has done nothing but call out for attention. His shot at Donovan McNabb following the season? A cry for attention.

His fall camp holdout, where the greedy T.O. looked for money and appeared on nearly every sports talk show ESPN produces? A cure for his limelight withdrawal.

Owens' weeklong hiatus from camp, working out in his driveway and even his latest move where he says he's willing to talk to quarterback Donovan McNabb (something he previously refused to do)? Nothing more than calculated media stunts.

But perhaps the most disappointing part of this whole fiasco is that all of these stunts have gotten exactly what they didn't deserve: attention.

After T.O.'s dismissal from fall camp, cameras followed him to the airport and asked him where he was going. When he decided to hold an impromptu workout in his driveway, every TV outlet in Philadelphia showed up. The footage was found on sports news highlights across the nation.

And now he's willing to talk to McNabb. The man makes one quote saying he's going to talk to the man throwing him the ball, and it's a headline on Sportscenter. Why exactly are we congratulating his decision to do the right thing, grow up and handle the situation like a man by writing a story about it?

We shouldn't be.

Terrell Owens is the best receiver in the league, hands down. But just because he's a stellar athlete doesn't give him the right to act like an infant and demand all the toys. The man needs to grow up.

But more importantly, those of us in the media need to stop giving this arrogant individual the coverage and attention he so desperately yearns for. If you cut off the gratification, the behavior will stop.

After all, if I can learn at the age of 10, so can a grown up T.O.