The Rockets had just completed an 11-0 run. They led by seven. The run even included a few camcorder-worthy highlight plays.

Then Carlos Boozer, who apparently is also allowed to try, grabbed an offensive rebound and scored, inspiring boos for the home team at Toyota Center.

Most did not join that chorus. But given the rancor or even vitriol the Rockets have inspired this season, it was not shocking or even surprising that there were some waiting for a chance to vent their disappointment.

A few hours earlier at Reliant Stadium, when David Carr brought the face of the Texans franchise and a dud of an afternoon back on the field, he too was booed at home.

This was at first more of a surprise and brought on the usual debate about what fan reaction really means, from that day's poor play to an indication of changing expectations for the Texans. It was the expectation that the Rockets would be fabulous that might explain the dissatisfaction with their season so far.

But as we run through the usual reasons, getting all the way to the frightening common explanation that a lot of people out there are very angry about something, there seem to be other forces at work.

We're all a bunch of know-it-alls. We're smarter. Those who disagree would know this, but they're all too stupid.

It's obvious. But then, so is everything. There is no doubt. There never is.

This is the way it works in the Around the Horn world in which the most complicated of issues can be summed in a few seconds of screaming on cable television or a two-page summary in the Oval Office.

Disagree? You're wrong, incredibly wrong. (That's the written version of booooo.)

The fallacy of certainty

Check out the e-mails that flood cyberspace. Drop into a chat room. Turn on the radio. Everyone is completely convinced about everything.

Forget waiting for information or explanations. Instead of seeking information that might make us better informed and eventually armed with a considered opinion, we pick a side and then look for information that supports it.

This is why those who voted for John Kerry can't understand why anyone voted for George Bush and those who voted for Bush are stumped to explain why anyone voted for Kerry.

Everything becomes so clear and undeniable that somehow everything else is treated as
not just wrong but reprehensible.

The pundits discussed issues they had said were polarizing the country.

But sports often explain things better.

It doesn't matter what the issues were in an election year, as if any year is not an election year. The Texans' play-calling. The Rockets' trades. The Astros' budget.

If there are issues, there are sides, and anyone who disagrees with our side is someplace between obtuse and evil.

No give-and-take

There are traditional discussions out there somewhere, with learned experts discussing the issues and the results of their scholarly work.

But no one watches, because they remote-control their way to two people with opposite opinions screaming at each other before a game-show buzzer goes off, shifting them to the next lightning-round topic.

We bounced around those extremes long before anyone booed Sunday at Reliant Stadium or Toyota Center. Steve Francis went from "Stevie Franchise" to Houston's lightning rod for anger and criticism.

Carr will next year be too wonderful for words — or the next in the line of fire. And the Astros, whose entire season was a Barry Bonds tape-measure shot of extremes, could be brilliant or idiotic this week based entirely on Carlos Beltran's decision.

It's not anger that focused the ire on the Rockets or Texans. It is certainty. We are so sure of everything that if the coach, quarterback or point guard can't see it, he deserves what he gets.

Jeff Van Gundy. Chris Palmer. What do they know? They just need to spend a few hours reading the e-mail to the Chronicle. All the answers are there, clear and inarguable — assuming the coaches are smart enough to ignore the other half of the e-mails taking exactly the opposite position.