Philanderers across the nation were outraged to learn that Kobe Bryant has taken the "I'm sorry" bar and hurled it into the ionosphere.

On the other hand, cynical observers of the human condition were pleased to see that the Bryant story was now old enough to induce mean-spirited jokes.

	There was only one way to Vanessa was going to stop looking at Kobe that way ...

According to the New York Post, which is the Bible for people who aren't even the slightest bit worried that there might be a hell, People Magazine is going to report that Bryant bought his wife a $4 million purple diamond ring, and that the transaction was made two weeks ago -- one week before Bryant made his public admission of adultery and his denial of sexual assault.

Now I don't know how household finances work where you live, but $4 million at our house buys a lot of Pizza Rolls and Icees.

To have it thrown into a single piece of jewelry, let alone a piece of jewelry you could use as a sink stopper, let alone a piece of jewelry in the colors of your employer ... well, that puts your run-of-the-mill thrill-seeker in a real bind, as in:

"Yes, honey, I did it, and no, I'm about $3,935,750 short. I guess you'll just have to call the lawyer."

Now some people (men, most of them accountants) have wondered why $4 million in cash wouldn't have been a more prudent expression of repentance. Others (women, all of them married) felt that the $4 million was not nearly enough for the pain and suffering. A few people see it as a down payment on an annual dividend disbursement schedule, if she knows what she's doing.

But the selection of prize packages also creates questions of marketing (given that we're talking purple and gold here, could the Lakers sell replicas at their merchandise stores?) and auctioneering (how much could you get for the little dingus on eBay?).

It also suggests that nothing says loving quite like revenge.

Is it wrong to find amusement in this little tale of infidelity and its not-so-hidden costs? Maybe, but with so little else about this story to find amusement in, this is about the only way to relieve the tension.

Besides, the radio face who is naming Bryant's accuser has already bored us to death with his phony high horse. After all, using "What's good for the defendant is good for the plaintiff" as his public argument to hide his private argument, which is "He's Kobe, and she hasn't made a single jumpshot that mattered," just doesn't move the needle on the dial very much.

And that is the only fresh angle on this story, other than the daily leaks about her alleged character -- she was distraught, she was nuts, she was diabolical, she has three heads, etc.

So what else is there but The Ring? It is, after all, bigger than the ones Bryant got for helping the Lakers win their titles, and it is an entire endorsement contract in an easy-to-carry leather-and-velvet box.

And it is so perfectly "Forgive me, honey."

Look, you've annoyed your spouse plenty of times. You've bought flowers (or if you are a woman, beer), or you've bought candy (or if you are a woman, beer) or you've thrown yourself at the mercy of the court (or, if you are a woman, beer and Fritos).

And you usually get forgiven, right? Beer, after all, is the gift that keeps on giving.

But now, with one fell swoop, you have suddenly discovered that you haven't got the net worth required to be forgiven, and you never will. There aren't enough policies to sell, cars to fix, cabinets to hang, girders to weld or widows to swindle.

You are, in short, doomed.

And that stinks.

I mean, four large? Eight carats? Purple? That's not over the top, that's over the moon. And even though Bryant can afford it, it's hard to see him as a role model when he has priced you out of the business of being more like Kobe.

That's hard to swallow. Because your spouse isn't going to see your adultery as worth only a quarter of one percent of his -- and that's if you're willing to go 10 grand. The only way to answer the question "How can I make it up to you?" is now "You can't afford it."

And so curdles the milk of human kindness, just because you can't keep up with the Lakers.

Now you know, albeit the hard way, what it's like to be the Golden State Warriors.

Ray Ratto is a columnist with the San Francisco Chronicle and a regular contributor to ESPN.com