As sports journalists go, I'm not very cynical, but I've always wondered if the cliched phenomenon of jocks visiting hospitals was more about publicity grabs than helping patients. But Saturday I manned the hotline desk at Bellevue Hospital, mostly fielding calls from people trying to find missing relatives, or redirecting volunteers (including a massage therapist offering to treat weary rescue workers).

It was a bleak scene -- a lot of "No, I'm sorry, they're not on our list" -- and the mood at the hospital was, not surprisingly, grim. There were more cops in the halls than doctors and nurses, more people outside at the "wall of missing" than cops in the halls.

And then a group of guys walked in, a handful of Mets players including Mike Piazza, Rey Ordonez and Al Leiter. To be honest, the very first thought that went through my head was, "I'm a Cardinals fan, should I tell them?" But mostly I was struck by how "regular" they appeared, not just because they were out of uniform but because they looked as down and confused as everyone else in New York these days.

Their effect on Bellevue, however, couldn't have been more positive. Cops, doctors, nurses, social workers, administration personnel and visitors were excited, energized, smiling. The hallways buzzed with "Did you see the Mets are here?" and "The Yankees are coming, too." The players shook as many hands as they could, thanked people for all that they've done, asked if they could do anything themselves. They seemed to mean it.

As a society we've turned athletes into demigods, and I'm sure that's almost always a bad thing. Saturday, at Bellevue Hospital, it was anything but.

Gary Belsky is a deputy editor at ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at gary.belsky@espnmag.com.