What's a little brain damage between friends?

Ah, the big game is almost here. Wait, that should be in caps: The Big Game. No, wait — all caps: THE BIG GAME.

As we await the head-snapping, jaw-smashing violence of the Super Bowl — the best of which is sure to be replayed repeatedly in super slo-mo — let us consider that brain damage commonly associated with boxers has been found in a sixth deceased former N.F.L. player age 50 or younger — former lineman Tom McHale, who died in May at age 45.

And let us consider the response from Jeff Pash, the NFL’s executive vice president for labor:

“There are a great many people who have played football and other contact sports for many years and at high levels who do not appear to have suffered these types of deficits. Whether it’s President Ford or major business leaders, whether it’s people on television.”

Uh-huh.

Yes, indeed, there are people who have played football who don’t appear to have been affected. On the other hand, doctors at Boston University’s School of Medicine have now tested six former NFL players who died between the ages of 36 and 50, and all six have had serious brain damage.

Now, excuse the cynicism, but the NFL has a huge money-making enterprise to protect and a continuing need for the spare parts known as players, so pardon me for not buying the league’s objectivity. For an unbiased perspective, let's turn to Dr. Daniel P. Perl, the director of neuropathology at the Mt. Sinai School of Medicine in New York, who is not affiliated with the Boston University group. Perl told The New York Times that “This is a medically significant finding. I think with a sixth case identified, out of six, for a condition that is incredibly rare in the general population, there is more than enough evidence that football is clearly strongly related to the presence of this pathology.”

Pash said the league was continuing its own study of retired players, which began in 2007 and will probably not be published until 2011 or 2012.

Or maybe 2014. Or maybe 2020 …

Hey, let's keep the hits comin' and the money rollin' ...

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/01/28/sports/football/28brain.html

Seemed a fine idea at the time

OK.

You’re a second-year wide receiver. The numbers from your rookie season (20 catches; 4 TDs) aren’t bad, but they’re hardly enough to give you job security — especially on a team that already has serious image problems.

So you decide to make a profane YouTube video with language hurtful to blacks and gays?

Well, you do if you’re Martellus Bennett of the Dallas Cowboys.

The video made with rapper Dessie Brown also referenced teammates Jason Witten and Tony Romo — and some fella named Jerry Jones.

(Notes to Martellus: Romo is the guy who throws you the football; Jones is the guy who signs your checks.)

Bennett, fined $22,000 by the Cowboys (the amount of a game check), immediately blamed the media for blowing the video out of proportion.

Which tells me young Martellus actually may be wiser than his years; blaming the media is a veteran move …

Mr. Blagojevich, meet Mr. Sampson

For sheer shamelessness, it’s hard to beat Kelvin Sampson.

After cheating — and getting caught — at Oklahoma University, he cheated again — and got caught — at Indiana, leaving the Hoosiers’ men’s basketball program in shambles.

Then to get him to go away quietly, Indiana had to pay him $700,000 — yes, $700,000.

Now, he’s appealing his discipline by the NCAA, which found Sampson had committed two major violations at Indiana and slapped him with a five-year show cause penalty — meaning that if Sampson applies for another position in the next five years, the college hiring him must explain to the NCAA why it should not be subject to penalties.

I’d also suggest the person making the hire be subject to exhaustive psychological evaluation.

Now, if Sampson loses his appeal, and doesn’t get another college job, all is not lost for him. With his morals and hubris, he can always move to Illinois and run for governor.

Are things starting to close in on you, Barry?

Thursday was NOT a good day for Barry Bonds, facing an upcoming perjury trial in March.

First, a source claims prosecutors have urine samples they say proved Bonds used steroids other than those known as “the cream” and “the clear” — the ones Bonds reportedly indicated he thought were “flaxseed oil.”

Then it’s learned that former San Francisco teammate and known juice Bobby Estalella is expected to testify and provide significant information that Bonds knowingly took the illegal substances.

Bonds, especially after he bulked up and slowed down, hit into a few double plays in his time, but this one — if completed — won’t send him to the dugout but to the slammer.

Friday column: Onward Christian coaching

Back in my days as an athlete, I never liked getting beat. But almost as bad as losing was winning too easily.

If it was clear there was no challenge, I would quickly get bored, my attention would wander, my effort would flag.

Not so for the Covenant School in Dallas, whose girls basketball team recently whipped, beat down, annihilated and (insert your favorite sports verb here) their “rivals” from Dallas Academy.

First quarter: 35-0. Fight on.

Second quarter: 59-0. Fight on.

Third quarter: 88-0. Fight on.

Fourth quarter: 100-0. We can hit triple digits!

As the magic number neared, Covenant coaches, players and fans got increasingly excited, and the team reportedly was still shooting 3-pointers in the final period. Dallas Academy coach Andrew Lott also claims that while Covenant coach Micah Grimes called off his full-court press early in the game, Grimes later instituted an alternative press.

“This is what it came down to in the second half,” said Dallas Academy athletic director Jeremy Civello: “Steal at half court and layup. Steal and layup. Steal and layup. It was a layup drill.”

Two things should be noted. One, Dallas Academy — a school that caters to students with learning disabilities — hasn’t won a girls basketball game in four years. Two, Covenant is a Christian school.

In light of the both notes, Kyle Queal, the headmaster for Covenant, called the 100-0 win “shameful,” saying, “This clearly does not reflect a Christlike and honorable approach to competition.”

Now, it’s clear to me 100-0 doesn’t reflect an honorable approach to competition, but the question of it being Christlike is more thorny.

If Christlike refers to the Jesus of the Sermon on the Mount and his injunction to “do unto others as you would have them do unto you,” well and good. Point taken.

But what if it refers to the Jesus that got after the Pharisees and Sadducees? I don’t recall any quarter being given there (“Woe to you, hypocrites!”). What if it’s the Jesus of the cleansing of the Temple, driving out the moneychangers with a whip made of cords? What’s if it’s the Jesus of the Second Coming, kicking butt and taking names?
Obviously, the cross-section of theology and high-school girls basketball is more complicated than the headmaster appreciates.

After Queal apologized to Dallas Academy, Covenant coach Grimes disputed the need for a mea culpa, claiming, “My girls played with honor and integrity.” For that, he was fired.

And as he didn’t — as far as I know — offer Scriptural support for his position, I expect the controversy over the game only to continue to rage. Which means that perhaps we can look forward to bumper stickers sprouting up in Dallas with the letters “WWJS?”

That stands, of course, for “What Would Jesus Score?”

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Redemption, Part I

Recommended reading: Mark Maske’s Washington Post story on Arizona defensive tackle Darnell Dockett, who overcame an impoverished childhood, an early criminal streak and the shooting death of his mother to become one of the more inspirational stories of this year’s Super Bowl.

The person most responsible for Dockett’s turnaround is his uncle, who forced him into football, and the verb apparently isn’t too strong.

"Anybody in the world who knows my uncle knows he's crazy," Dockett said. "My uncle will punch you in your face with no remorse."

Dockett’s uncle is not arriving in Tampa until today. When Dockett tried to get his uncle to come to town early, to watch all the practices and enjoy the hoopla, his uncle said he had to work.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/01/28/AR2009012803926_pf.html

Redemption, Part II

More recommended reading: Scott Brown’s Pittsburgh Tribune-Review piece on Steelers wide receiver Santonio Holmes, who, like Dockett, used the Super Bowl platform to deal with some issues, including in Holmes’ case, his drug-dealing youth.

"If I continued down that path, I wouldn't be here," Holmes said Wednesday. "I've only told three or four people maybe throughout my lifetime about that, and at the moment I felt like it was time to share things."

In the piece, Pittsburgh tackle Willie Colon, who has some knowledge of life in the streets, offered this perspective on Holmes’ past:

"I don't think it's right to sell drugs at all," Colon said. "At the same time, when you look around and your brother's hungry and you've got holes in your shoes and your mother's working four or five jobs? You're going to do something."

While Holmes should be applauded for addressing his past, it should be noted his present isn’t exactly a clean slate. Holmes was arrested earlier this year and charged with misdemeanor possession of marijuana, Holmes said Wednesday that was an isolated incident.

A juicy book proposal

St. Louis manger Tony La Russa, a strong supporter of Mark McGwire for the Hall of Fame, bristled at the recent vote that gave the former slugger a mere 21.9 percent approval — just a tad short of the 75 percent needed.

La Russa is certain McGwire’s numbers merit inclusion. As for that other stuff — you know, the steroids — he offers the following argument:

“If it’s a question of what did he do to make himself stronger that wasn’t legal, and that’s kind of a character-and-integrity issue. If it’s a character-and-integrity issue, how many guys do we know who did what Mark did?”

Funny you should ask, Tony.

Apparently, his brother knows.

Bodybuilder Jay McGwire, who admittedly doesn’t have the best relationship with his bro, writes not only that Mark used Deca-Durabolin but he — Jay — was the one who introduced the outfielder to performance-enhancing drugs in 1994. He even injected his brother with the juice, he says.

“Like most first-timers,” Jay writes in a book proposal, “he couldn't plunge in the needle himself. Later a girlfriend injected him.”

According to Deadspin.com, Lauren Brown, Jay's girlfriend from his steroid-supplying days, backs his claims.

There’s been no comment — of course — from Mark McGwire. And no comment from La Russa, stuck in the Land of Denial.

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=3851381

http://deadspin.com/5137355/ex+fiancee-corroborates-mcgwire-steroid-claims-made-in-book-proposal?skyline=true&s=x

Catching passes vs. catching flak

These are bad times for Anquan Boldin. You’d think — with his team going to the Super Bowl — that these would be good times. But no.

As his Arizona Cardinals were rallying in the fourth quarter to beat Philadelphia in Sunday’s NFC title game, Boldin was fuming because, in his mind, he was underused. At one point, he screamed at offensive coordinator Todd Haley.

After the game, instead of celebrating with his teammates, Boldin left by himself.

So far, we haven’t mentioned Boldin’s position. But do we really have to? Of course, it’s wide receiver, Diva Central. But although Boldin is a wide receiver, he’s not THE wide receiver, which I suspect is part of his problem.

THE wide receiver these days is fellow Cardinal Larry Fitzgerald, whose recent production has vaulted him to the very top of NFL pass catchers.

That’s been very good for Arizona’s playoff run; very bad for Anquan Boldin’s ego. It's also bad been for Boldin's public image, which has taken a pounding the last few days.

Trying to combat the bad PR, the Cardinals have gone into damage-control mode, insisting everything’s fine. Arizona cornerback Rod Hook said, “When we step on the field for the Super Bowl, I know he’ll be ready to play and give his best effort. That’s all you can ask.”

Actually, that’s not all you can ask. You can ask, and expect, a player to think of someone other than himself — his teammates, for instance — on his team’s biggest day in more than half a century.

Friday column: In the race to reason, give sports the edge

Sixty-two years.

That’s what it took to get from Jackie Robinson to Barack Obama. And don’t think those two firsts are not closely connected.

Before there could be an Obama, there had to be a Martin Luther King Jr. And before there could be a Martin Luther King Jr., there had to be a Jackie Robinson.
“Jackie Robinson made it possible for me in the first place,” King once said. “Without him, I would never have been able to do what I did.”

As time passed and society changed, it was increasingly difficult, I think, to fully appreciate the sea change that occurred in America on April 15, 1947, when Robinson took the field for the first time wearing his Brooklyn Dodgers uniform.

It was difficult, that is, until Tuesday.

From what I’ve read about Robinson’s first season, the emotion I saw on the faces of those who packed the National Mall for Obama’s inauguration had nothing on the faces that packed the stands — in some cases, the segregated stands — to see 28-year-old, slightly pigeon-toed athlete take his position at first base throughout 1947.

In Opening Day — The Story of Jackie Robinson’s First Season, Jonathan Eig writes about the Dodgers’ May visit to Cincinnati.

On the day of the first game of the series, Eig writes, “black people filled the neighborhood as if from nowhere, like some magician’s trick, pouring out of every bus, every taxi.”

He continues: “One newspaper report said about half of the twenty-seven thousand people at the ballpark that night were black. But to some of the Cincinnati Reds, it looked like more. ‘The place was packed — all blacks,’ said Eddie Erautt, a rookie pitcher.”

Robinson’s fans stood and cheered every time he came to the plate. “If they embarrassed him with their overdone hoots and hollers,” Eig writes, “they didn’t care.” Recalled one African American there that day: “Listen, it was quite an affair. It was kind of a revolution, you know?”

To be sure, the desegregation of sports that began in earnest with Robinson has been long and painful and, in fact, is not even complete. Don’t believe me? Check out the number of black Division I college football coaches.

Yet Robinson, voted Rookie of the Year in 1947 and National League MVP in 1949, indisputably changed American history — and did so seven years before Brown vs. Board of Education, 17 years before the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Which means that athletics — for all its flaws — has something over politics. Of those two ultra-competitive worlds, sports was the first to decide — even in an imperfect way — that talent trumped pigmentation.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Uh, Coach, exactly what do you mean by “it?”

Coaches are big on slogans, sometimes with unfortunate results.

Remember when Jacksonville’s Jack Del Rio came up with “Keep chopping wood,” and brought in a tree stump and an ax into the locker room, only to have his punter put a gash in his leg with the props?

New York Giants coach Tom Coughlin’s contribution to bad sloganeering came the week before the team’s playoff game against Philadelphia, when he passed out T-shirts with the words, “Cut It Off.”

“Cut It Off” was a reference to the movie Men of Honor, in which the protagonist has to have his leg amputated. Coughlin told the press the idea behind his use of the phrase was to motivate his players to do whatever was necessary to succeed.

But in seems to me that in a sport where manhood references are all-too-common, “Cut It Off” might make some players wince, rather than feel more determined.

It hasn’t been that long, has it, since John Wayne Bobbitt and his then-wife Lorena were in the news? Apparently not. Final score: Eagles 23, Giants 11.

Refreshing perspective

On the sanity front, I give you Myron Rolle, Tim Tebow and Sam Bradford.

Rolle is the former Florida State safety who decided accepting a Rhodes Scholarship to study at Oxford, England, was a better move than jumping immediately to the meat-grinder known as the NFL.

Tebow is the quarterback of the national champion Florida Gators, who decided returning for his senior season a better move than jumping immediately to the meat-grinder known as the NFL.

Bradford is the quarterback of the Oklahoma Sooners — the team the Gators beat in the title game — who, too, decided professional smash-mouth could wait a few more months.

Explained Bradford, last season’s Heisman Trophy winner (Tebow won in 2007): "My three years here have probably been the best three years of my life, and I really feel there’s no need to cut this experience short.”

Here's to all three.

More refreshing perspective

Recommended reading: Paula Boivin’s piece on Cardinals star Larry Fitzgerald in The Arizona Republic.

Fitzgerald demonstrates one can be a top-flight NFL receiver —in fact, he might be the league’s best — and yet NOT be a diva. Who knew that was possible?

Showing wisdom in his choice of influences, Fitzgerald has become close with quarterback Kurt Warner, a notable straight-arrow.

"It can be lonely out here," Fitzgerald told Boivin. "I'm a single male and kind of a local celebrity, I guess. I have the finances to do what I want to do, but Kurt has everything you could ask for: a family, kids. When things go out of whack, he's the guy I rely on."

http://www.azcentral.com/sports/cardinals/articles/2009/01/14/20090114boivincards0114-CP.html

Friday column: Putting the 'pro' in probation

So.

The Philadelphia district attorney is not charging Marvin Harrison in a May shooting that left three people wounded — despite statements incriminating him from a bystander and from a victim.

Oh well, Harrison might not be the star receiver he once was, but he remains very popular in the land of cheesesteaks — Philly’s his hometown — so I can understand the DA’s decision.

Actually, I think the whole legal process involving players could be made easier — and DAs given a break on the question of whether to indict a jock or not — by a new plea I’ve just devised.

“Plaxico Burress, you’ve been charged with two counts of illegal weapons possession. How do you plead?”

“I plead athlete.”

“Release this man.”

Now, a plea of athlete wouldn’t necessarily get someone off the hook forever; it would be contingent on how well the player subsequently performed. If Burress couldn’t get the New York Giants back to the Super Bowl next season, for instance, it would be off to the slammer. If he could, all would be forgiven.

“Pacman Jones, you’ve been charged with … hmmm … this will take a while … uh, we’ll consider the charges as read; how do you plead?”

“I plead athlete.”

“Turn him loose.”

Jones’ satisfying the court would be more problematic since, at the moment, he’s without a team. But just the fact the Pacman has a real incentive to play well would make him more attractive to the right NFL general manager.

For the sake of fairness, of course, I’d extend the plea’s availability to nonplayers in certain categories.

“Andy Kennedy of the Mississippi Rebels men’s basketball team, you’ve been charged assaulting a cab driver; how do you plead?”

“I plead coach.”

Ole Miss basketball isn’t at the same level, say, as Florida or Kentucky hoops. So Kennedy wouldn’t have to do the impossible — such as get to the Final Four — to stay out of stir. A NCAA Tournament bid would do it, maybe even an NIT invitation — depending upon how big a roundball fan the judge was.

But though I’d extend the plea, it would have limitations.

“Roger Clemens, you’ve been indicted on perjury charges. How do you plead?”

“Uh, athlete?”

“Plea not accepted. You’re retired — and therefore are of no value to anybody who cares about wins and loses. Bailiff, keep this man in custody until he comes up with a new plea — or starts working out again.”

 Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

We love you just the way you are

First, Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones cuts Pacman Jones loose.

Then comes word he’ll not lift a finger to keep Tank Johnson from leaving as a free agent.

Then there are whispers he might — gulp — release Terrell Owens, all for the sake of locker room amity.

Could Jones finally be wising up?

"I think we all know that chemistry is the problem with this team more than the schemes or anything else," a Cowboys source told ESPN’s Ed Werder. "Are we going to continue to allow talent to outweigh everything else in the decisions we make with players and putting the roster together? We're like the Redskins used to be when they signed every player they wanted. There's more to it than talent. It has to be more about the team.''

As a longtime Cowboys hater, one who's enjoyed watching the team implode because of the low character of Jerry's favorites, I can only make this plea: "Say it ain’t so."

"I think some of people want to just cut our losses and get rid of all those guys _ TO, Tank, Pacman,'' another Cowboys source said. "But I really think Jerry likes the thrill of trying to make it all work."

Whew!

Statesman of the year

When it comes to seeking votes, elected officials have no shame. (Actually, when it comes to anything, they have no shame.)

The latest to embarrass himself is Pittsburgh Mayor Luke Ravenstahl, who in advance of Sunday’s AFC title game between the Steelers and the Baltimore Ravens, said he’s changing his name to Steelerstahl.

Wednesday, the mayor began — but did not complete — an official name change petition.

Not only is it a pathetic stunt, it’s not even his idea. It was the brainchild of that hotbed of intellectual activity — morning talk radio.

"As soon as I heard it,” the mayor said, “I thought it was a great idea."

Two thoughts: 1) Is it possible that such obvious pandering could actually help the mayor win his 2010 election? 2) If it does, Pittsburgh voters will be getting what they deserve.

He loves him some him

If Jerry Jones were a baseball player, he’d be hitting at about the Mendoza Line.

Let’s take a look at his more-recent major decisions: Are they hits?

The hiring of Wade Phillips? No.

The hiring of Jason Garrett — at $3 million a year — as offensive coordinator and “coach in waiting”? No.

The acquisition of Tank Johnson? No.

The acquisition of Terrell Owens? The result has been a few big games, a few not-so-big games, some typical Owens-inspired controversy. Give Jones a broken-bat single on this one.

The acquisition of Adam Jones? An emphatic no, especially as Jones was cut this week by the Dallas Cowboys after they were informed about an ESPN story that says, “three Atlanta-area men allege that Jones arranged for someone to shoot at them two months after the football player was suspended by NFL commissioner Roger Goodell in 2007.”

Jones, both owner and general manager of the Cowboys, looks like not just a bad judge of talent, but a fool for his recent moves, particularly for his attempt to rehabilitate Pacman’s career.

But as Pacman is leaving Dallas — and possibly the NFL for good — it’s only fair to give him the last word.

Told he seemed to be taking his release from the Cowboys pretty well, Pacman said, “If I beat myself up, who will take care of me? Football means a lot to me, but it’s not everything. It’s not like I’m taking it pretty good, I love me some me.”

No one could have said it better.

And we should believe you ... why?

So.

Urban Meyer says coaches are absolutely doing the right thing when they campaign for their teams like Capitol Hill lobbyists hunting a fat piece of pork.

"That's absolutely what they should do," Meyer said of Southern California’s Pete Carroll and Texas’ Mack Brown insisting their respective teams are the best in the land. "I've got news: I'm representing the University of Florida, and I'm an employee of the University of Florida and I represent my players, most of all I'm going to fight like a dog to take care of them."

Great, Urban, and I’ve got news. If we know you’re always shilling for your team — regardless of whether you really think they’re the best — why should be take into considering anything you say?

Friday column: Drumming up a little disrespect

It doesn’t say much about the human animal that it can successfully use the same motivational tactic — one oft based on a lie — again and again.

Yes, I’m talking about teams playing the “We (I) don’t get no respect” card.
The latest to use the emotional ruse are the Baltimore Ravens, looking for an edge in Saturday’s AFC playoff game against Tennessee.

“Nobody has respected this team until right now, and that’s fine with us,” defensive coordinator Rex Ryan said Sunday after the Ravens dismantled the Miami Dolphins. “Tough on everybody else, just right for us.”

Just right for them because coaches know how to feed the “disrespect” slop to their players, who hungrily devour every drop, like baby birds taking disgorged worms from Mama.

Why? Well, it works.

“It’s effective,” sports psychologist Eric Morse told Childs Walker for a Baltimore Sun article. “Coaches and players look for bulletin-board material, and if it’s not there, sometimes they drum it up. It’s one of the few ways to tap into athletes’ internal motivation for doing what they do.”

“I think it makes it personal,” Joe Fish, another sports psychologist, told Walker. “Athletes have a lot of pride, and athletes like to compete, so it can give a real emotional boost to a player or team.”

No one was better at this, Walker points out, than Michael Jordan, who would seize any critical comment, no matter how slight, to psych himself up. If no slight was forthcoming, he would invent one.

Just as the Ravens have.

Jeff Fisher played both college and pro ball and has coached in the NFL since 1985, so he’s seen (and undoubtedly used) the tactic more than once. Now the Titans head man seems bored with it, suggesting that any Raven feeling dissed “needs to read the paper or watch TV.”

“Obviously, they got plenty of respect from us. You know, if that’s the way you want to handle and motivate, then so be it.”

In other words, if you really need to psych yourself up with a lie to get ready to play, well, more power to you.

Yes, as Fish notes, athletes have a lot of pride — and, as I note, often more pride than self-awareness.

I know this from my own days as a (very) small-time athlete when I, too, used this ploy when seeking an edge. Now, like Fisher, I find it tiresome. So I’ll be rooting for the Titans come Saturday.

After all, the Ravens’ belief that the nation’s media will swallow the idea they truly have been slighted is disrespectful to our intelligence.
In fact, as a member of the press, I feel insulted.

I am SO ready for kickoff.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.

Walking the walk

Recommended reading: Antonya English’s piece in the St. Petersburg Times on Florida quarterback Tim Tebow, whose Gators are playing Thursday night in the BCS title game.

Tebow, the son of missionaries, talks the spiritual talk, but also walks the walk, making prison visits, helping his parents in the Philippines, doing other volunteer work.

The message written on eye black has become a big thing for football players, and Tebow is no different. But, then again, maybe he is, as his message is a biblical reference.

In an increasingly secular and diverse society, that might offend some. But I contrast it with the message I saw on a player’s eye black just the other day in one of the many meaningless bowl games that plague our TV screens in December and January. The message written under the player’s eyes — the lamps of the soul — was, “Fear me.”

Like Tebow's profession of faith or dislike it, it apparently is not done for show.

"A lot of people take their heart out, rip it out of their chest and lay it on the table,” Florida coach Urban Meyer says. “I'm not willing to do that, and certainly not my family. But Bob (his father) is that way, and Pam (his mother) and their whole family. They have such a strong faith. In this world of hypocrisy, there's none (with them)."

http://www.tampabay.com/sports/college/article956080.ece

Not a hot property

One team after another has indicated an unwillingness to seriously pursue the services of slugger Manny Ramirez. The latest, according to ESPN, are the Giants, whom agent Scott Boras tried to use as a stalking horse to get the Dodgers — who actually DO have an interest in Ramirez — to make a better offer.

According to ESPN, Boras’ talk about five- and four-year deals worth some $25 million a year only caused the Dodgers to consider that maybe their money would be better spent bolstering their bullpen.

Now, Ramirez’s age — 36 — is all part of this, undoubtedly. But so is Ramirez’s history, most especially his last part season with the Red Sox. Owners and general managers and have to know that if Ramirez can turn on the Sox and quit on the them — turning so poisonous in the clubhouse that Boston was willing to nearly give him away — he can do the same to them.

Wouldn’t it be amusing if Ramirez ended up signing with someone for less than he would have gotten if he’d honored his contract with the Sox …

Not the best career move

Antoine Walker is four years younger than Ramirez, and while being 32 doesn’t put a player in one’s prime years in the NBA, it’s not automatically over the hill, either.

But the other hand, when you’re 32 AND often out of shape, you’re about past the crest. And when you when get arrested on suspicion of drunken driving, well …

Walker was arrested Monday morning at 5:39 a.m., and no, he wasn’t on his way to his morning shift at the factory. Police said they detected a strong odor alcohol on him and that Walker had a sleepy look on his face.

He refused a breathalyzer test, natch.

Speaking of breath, it’s recommended Walker not hold his waiting for an NBA team to come calling.

Five strikes — Yankees are OUT!

I started hating the Yankees in the early ’60s. I was a young Dodgers fan back then, so it was quite natural.

I hated them through the Billy Martin years, the era of Reggie (“I’m the straw that stirs the drink”) Jackson and the Bronx Zoo.

I hated them for every pompous announcement that left George Steinbrenner’s lips (that would be all of them).

I stopped hating the Yankees when Joe Torre arrived in New York in 1996, a year after Derek Jeter made his debut. The two of them were simply too nice, too classy to dislike. It didn’t bother me when they won. I rooted for them a little. I even wore an N.Y. cap — which had more to do with Sept. 11, 2001, than the Yankees, but still …

Then last year the Yankees chased Torre away with a low-ball offer, and this year they’ve done the following:

Signed free-agent right-hander A.J. Burnett for $82.5 million; signed free-agent left-hander CC Sabathia for $161 million; signed free-agent first baseman Mark Teixera for $180 million.

In a time of deep recession when just about everyone in the country has either lost their job or is worried about losing it, the Yankees have paid $424.5 million for three — three! — players.

But that’s nothing. Wait until you see how they defend the
moves:

“The philosophy of George Steinbrenner, which has been continued by (sons) Hal and Hank, is that the Yankees are a sacred trust to their fans and they believe in continually reinvesting in the team …”

Sacred trust?

The Oxford American gives the following definitions for sacred. Let’s see if any of them fit:

* connected with God (or the gods). Nope.
* religious rather than secular. Nope.
* embodying the laws or doctrines of a religion. Nope.
* regarded with great respect and reverence by a particular religion, group, or individual. This comes the closest, but nope.
* sacrosanct. Nope.

That’s five strikes.

I’m back to hating the pinstripes. Ah, feels like home …

To return or not to return ...

The last act of Brett Favre’s Hamlet didn’t play so well in Green Bay, and a repeat performance in the coming months isn’t likely to draw rave reviews in New York, either.

Favre’s indecision last off-season on whether to return to Green Bay, his subsequent footsie-playing with Minnesota, and his pouting and posturing even turned off die-hard Packers fans — and his eventual trade to the Jets was seen by many as more relief than tragedy.

Hailed as “savior” in New York, Favre played relatively well the first 11 games of the season, but his dismal play the final five games (nine interceptions and just two touchdown passes) helped cost the Jets the playoff, cost Eric Mangini his job, and cost Favre whatever locker room affection he had earned in the Big Apple.

Favre’s play was knocked this week by running back Thomas Jones, and an anonymous Jet ripped his attitude, calling him a “distant” teammate who spent a lot of time away from the other players — in an office especially designed for him.

As for his return next season, safety Kerry Rhodes said,
"If he's dedicated and he wants to come back and do this, and do it the right way ... and be here when we're here in training camp and the minicamps and working out with us ... then I'm fine with it," Rhodes said. "But don't come back if it's going to be half-hearted or he doesn't want to put the time in with us."
To return or not to return …

http://images.todaystmj4.com/images/favre%20cries%20at%20presser.jpg

The last act of Brett Favre’s Hamlet didn’t play so well in Green Bay, and a repeat performance in the coming months isn’t likely to draw rave reviews in New York, either.

Favre’s indecision last off-season on whether to return to Green Bay, his subsequent footsie-playing with Minnesota, and his pouting and posturing even turned off die-hard Packers fans — and his eventual trade to the Jets was seen by many as more relief than tragedy.

Hailed as “savior” in New York, Favre played relatively well the first 11 games of the season, but his dismal play the final five games (nine interceptions and just two touchdown passes) helped cost the Jets the playoff, cost Eric Mangini his job, and cost Favre whatever locker room affection he had earned in the Big Apple.

Favre’s play was knocked this week by running back Thomas Jones, and an anonymous Jet ripped his attitude, calling him a “distant” teammate who spent a lot of time away from the other players — in an office especially designed for him.

As for his return next season, safety Kerry Rhodes said,"If he's dedicated and he wants to come back and do this, and do it the right way ... and be here when we're here in training camp and the minicamps and working out with us ... then I'm fine with it," Rhodes said. "But don't come back if it's going to be half-hearted or he doesn't want to put the time in with us."

Friday column: Two little words, one fervent plea

It’s been a rough year.

Wall-to-wall presidential politics. Economic collapse. Madonna breaking up with Guy Ritchie.

Before we attempt to move on and heal from the deep psychic wounds left by 2008, it’s best to try and shed some of the year’s more annoying baggage. As the campaigning has stopped (briefly), the economy is beyond my ken (totally), and the Madge will not listen to a word I say, I’d better stick to sports.

So, to certain figures who — unfortunately — populate the Toy Department of Life, herewith my New Year’s greeting, advice and plea all rolled together:

Terrell Owens: Many of you are familiar with Hannah Arendt’s famous phrase “the banality of evil.” In Owens’ case, it’s the banality of ego. And it’s worn … so … thin. Go away.

Manny Ramirez: Probably heeding the advice of your scaly agent, you flat-out quit on your teammates in Boston — even knocked down the team’s 64-year-old traveling secretary — all so you could get out of your $20 million-a-year contract, which obviously wasn’t enough for a talent and personality as special as yours. Go away — and take Scott Boras with you.

Roger Clemens: Your attempted bullying of Brian McNamee and resultant appearance before Congress gave us an up-close-and-personal look at who you really are — a lot closer and more personal than we really wanted to see. Go away.

Pacman Jones: Back to the banality of ego, with some actual evil thrown in. Your continued thuggery followed by promises to reform followed by further thuggery … well, to use one word: BORING. Go away.

Plaxico Burress: Your wide-receiver-diva act isn’t even original; Terrell Owens plowed that field long ago. Adding criminality might have been interesting — but it was such stupid criminality. Go away.

Michael Vick: Gosh, Mike, it turns out you weren’t needed in Atlanta. Even your more rabid supporters — you know, the ones who didn’t care that you tortured and killed dogs as long as you scored touchdowns — even they don’t miss you because of the arrival of rookie quarterback Matt Ryan. So go away. Wait — that’s right, you’ve already gone away. So stay away.

John Daly (sigh): You keep coming up with new ways to embarrass yourself, but each time you insist your problem is simply one of perception. Yes, you do see that you’re viewed as a sloppy boozer on a Twinkie binge who’s pissing on the prodigious talent God gave you — but you’re absolutely astounded as to what’s fueling that idea. It’s always the press or someone else who’s out to get you. Guess what, John? You’re out to get you, and you’re succeeding. Now go away.

There — I don’t know about you, but I feel lighter already. Happy New Year.

Contact Jim Gordon at gjames43@msn.com.