They parceled away a man’s life this week. Bits and pieces of Derrick Thomas were swept away to the highest bidder.

The price tag on a gold pinstriped suit: $1,500. An old pay stub: $95. His Speedo-style bathing suit: $20. A Bible from a fan: $20. A bedroom set: $2,200. A Sea-Doo water craft: $5,000.

As the frenzied cha-ching of opportunistic commerce continued in Thomas’ home, a grieving mother sat in a wingback chair and felt the chilling sting of death all over again.

“It seems like I’m reliving the funeral,” Edith Morgan said. “It’s like a piece of my heart is being ripped out.”

Her son’s death in February 2000 after an automobile accident only opened the door for more personal heartbreak among those closest to Thomas.

One of the NFL’s most respected players, who was involved in more than 20 community-related programs, never gathered that same commitment when it came to his personal life. Thomas fathered seven children with five different women, none of whom he married.

Although Thomas earned $34 million in salary and endorsements during his 11-year career with the Kansas City Chiefs, he left behind an estate described as “borderline solvent” by one attorney. Thomas also left no will, mandating a court-ordered, public estate sale. The sale — which continues with sealed bids for 21 big-ticket items — is expected to generate more than $650,000, some of which is designated to Thomas’ seven children.

Dismissing Thomas’ cluttered personal life with a sarcastic punch line and obligatory Shawn Kemp reference would not give us a fair perspective on a compassionate man who earned numerous awards for his charitable work.

Honored as the 1993 NFL Man of the Year, Thomas helped establish inner-city literacy programs and recently was honored posthumously in Orlando for his civic work by the National Consortium of Academics and Sports.

But that doesn’t get Thomas off the hook for his irresponsibility as a man who indulged his appetite for sex without thinking of the consequences. There are other athletes who cast those contradictory profiles — Evander Holyfield and Dikembe Mutombo among them — who seem to treat women as boy toys at night while striving to be good citizens by day.

Holyfield has fathered nine children, including two born to other women while he was married to Janice Holyfield. The couple divorced last year.

Mutombo has been implicated in conjunction with a federal racketeering case in an Atlanta strip club. Mutombo, Patrick Ewing, Jamal Anderson and Terrell Davis are among several subpoenaed to testify about sexual favors allegedly given to athletes at the Gold Club.

Oblivious to accountability, our prominent party boys might have been scared straight by taking a peek inside Thomas’ walls of shame. Shoppers paid a $10 fee just to get through the front door Thursday morning. At one point, the line stood more than 100 strong, reflecting a morbid fascination of celebrity in a cozy cul-de-sac in Independence, Mo.

The first shopper walked out at 9:36 a.m. with a $125 leather jacket, a $10 DVD, a $50 miniature refrigerator and a $75 commemorative bedpan given to Thomas as a gift.

Fans tried on hats, skimmed over pages of his books and sorted through a Reebok shoebox that contained pay stubs and canceled checks from Thomas’ football career.

As an estimated 1,200 shoppers and sightseers sifted through a man’s precious memories for potential “blue light” specials, Edith Morgan had a front row seat, her heart broken by the frenzied spirit of memorabilia mongers.

“It’s my son,” Edith Morgan said, “so I felt like I needed to be here.”

The wingback chair was marked for $3,500, just spare change on a day when the world knocked on Derrick Thomas’ front door, too late to remind him that a man’s dignity and honor are priceless.