I went to both the World Series and the Final Four in 2007.

Neither could match the hoopla and hype created by some 15-year-old wunderkind who doesn’t even have her driver’s license yet.

Ironically enough, on the very same day 16-year-old Jamie-Lynn Spears announced her pregnancy to the world, I was at the Hannah Montana “Best of Both Worlds Tour,” 11-year-old cousin in tow.

The last time I was this "in-tune" with pop culture was when body parts were exposed at Super Bowl XXXVIII. Unfortunately, I missed Janet Jackson's fiasco and made it back in time to see Matt Chatam deck a streaker into next week.

Two weeks post-Hannah, I'm still trying to regain my hearing while trying to remember if I’ve ever seen as many limos at one place at the same time. Not just the run of the mill white limos either, but pink stretch Hummer limos.

Speaking of the pink Hummer, it happens to be the car of choice for 18-year-old U.S. skater Katy Taylor. And judging by its popularity on the Hannah Tour, Al Gore might want to invest his dollars in some pink hybrids instead of his Hollywood career.

To put it in a proper sporting context, when Hannah hit the Nassau Coliseum last week, one Islanders season-ticket holder told Newsday it was the loudest the building had been since Lord Stanley took up temporary residence on the Island. All for a girl a few months older than the teddy bear then 14year-old Amanda Beard carried around Atlanta.

If you happen to pick up one of those “Year in Review” magazines and Miley Cyrus isn’t prominently featured, buy a new one. She was recently named one of Forbes’ 20 Richest Stars Under 25, and her tour is the hottest ticket on the planet. So much so that bitter angry parents have taken to suing scalpers, Cyrus’s own fan club and everyone under the sun trying to get their hands on a pair.

All in the name of their precious little children.

It truly is my favorite story of the year.

For those of you totally oblivious to these things, Miley Cyrus is the star of Disney Channel’s hit show “Hannah Montana,” and the daughter of  “Achy Breaky Heart” singer Billy Ray Cyrus, who also happens to play Miley’s father on the show.

Miley plays herself, an average ninth grader, who with the application of make-up and a blonde wig, turns into pop-princess Hannah Montana. Each show typically revolves around a different song, with the same moral Disney “Goodie-Two-Shoes” theme. And everybody eats it, hook, line and sinker.

It’s innocent. It’s wholesome. It’s cute. Billy Ray has a few parental, 21st Century Mike Brady sayings that remind yours truly of former Red Sox manager Jimy Williams, who once said, “If a frog had legs, then it wouldn’t bump its booty.”

As prepackaged as it all sounds, the younger Cyrus flat out sells it. She’s a terrific performer loved by the camera and the stage. It's like watching Michelle Wie without the back-nine collapse, bratty face and her father lurking in the shadows.

Her set lasted about an hour-and-a-half, longer than David Beckham's MLS career, with a six-minute break as Hannah mysteriously changes into Miley. The costume changes all come on the fly, and nearly the entire set was explosive and upbeat.

Throw in the fact she's been doing this for the last few months, and it's all very impressive for a 15-year-old. This coming from somebody who lives with one who sits on his ass for hours on end playing video games. Meanwhile, Cyrus has a video game of her own.

Now I don't know if she'll amount to anything in her post-Disney career, but the company is surely getting its money's worth while the getting is good. Sure, the price of tickets seem reasonable if you can get them at face value. But there’s only one place on the planet where I’ve paid 20 bucks for a program: The Super Bowl.

Miley may be sweet as punch, but concertgoers might sour forking over 35 bucks for a tee-shirt, or 60 for a sweatshirt. Still, it's a better bargain than that Freddy Adu jersey I never bought a few years back, or any of the undefeated Patriots gear should they lose in the playoffs.

And it is all for the children right? Still the big question is, what will eventually become of Miley Cyrus.

It wasn't too long ago that Americans debated the merits of Britney Spears virginity around the water coolers, or in my case, the high school lunch table. It wasn't too long ago that Cyrus had her own pregnancy rumors to squash, replacing them with “I’m pure” and don’t believe in sex until marriage.

After all, Amanda Beard did just pose for Playboy. Her teddy didn’t.

There are already racy pictures, albeit not pornographic ones like Vanessa Hudgens of High School Musical fame. Though I’m sure the likes of TMZ and Perez Hilton are on the prowl, camped outside her house and tour bus, ready to take her down should a wardrobe malfunction or a trip to Planned Parenthood occur.

I do want to root for her, as does America. And while it's a real shame that there are people down there getting paid to stalk and cheer for her eventual downfall, are the paparazzi worse than scummish AAU and NCAA coaches fawning over the next O.J. Mayo? College boosters? Stage parents?

I guess that's the pressure that comes with hitting the fame jackpot. May God bless Billy Ray's parenting soul. At least more than it has for Lynne Spears.