The road opened her arms, and I had to embrace her. Despite her traffic jams, poor signage, red lights and 55 mph freeway construction zones, she treated me well. I embarked on a five-games-in-five-days adventure, visiting the New England area/NYC for the first time before ending the trip in D.C. Had a splendid time, and would love to tell my tale.

Four of five road teams won. But I have to say the real winner was the city of Portland. Every time I come it's harder to leave. I think you guys put something in the water.

Hold on, I'm on the East Coast. Had an unbelievable time, but brought back a nasty head cold. I think it's a fair trade. I'm considering wearing the surgeon's mask. You know, the one to prevent bird flu or mad cow or whatever, so as to prevent this nastiness from getting around the office.

Here's the game-by-game:

New York Yankees @ Boston, Fenway Park

Or should I say Fenway Pahk. Nomah. The Green Monstah (Wish I would have grabbed one such T-shirt, even though my sports-themed T-shirt collection is ample. Almost as good as the "Jeter Sucks A-Rod" shirt). Wicked wasted at the baah. Get retahded. OK, I'm done. If you're not a baseball fan, if you piss and moan and say that baseball is overrated and that you don't care if they go on strike again or that the sport is riddled with steroid use, go see a game at Fenway. It has such charm, the old-time feel just like Wrigley, the big Monster (and unfortunate mascot spinoff that looks like Oscar the Grouch). Every ballpark should be like Fenway.

And it was great baseball, since it was Sox-Yanks, the biggest rivalry in baseball. Manny smashed a pair of homers out of the park (both over the Monstah), but the Yanks engineered a pair of four-run innings. Melky Cabrera delivered two two-RBI singles to spearhead the evil empire. I didn't realize it at the time, but David Ortiz went a big 0-for-5 with 4 K's. Deeeeaaamn.

Derek Jeter made the best game-ending play I've ever seen, going deep into the hole and making a jump-chuck over to first for the third out. It was just an All-Star play. Jeetah-esque. But still, the Yanks won. I can't get behind that.

Beer price: $6.50

Philadelphia @ New York Mets, Shea Stadium

I'm not saying there shouldn't be a Kids Day at the ballpark. It's only right. The game is for the kids. One of the best things my parents did was take me and my brothers everywhere when we were little. Road trips, Dairy Queen, Henry Vilas Zoo, Grand Canyon. Sure, we were annoying, we fought in public, spilled drinks and farted too much (with a running tally of "atomic bombs"). Chalk it up to life experiences. Caveat outta the way, I don't think I was ready for Kids Day. I'd only gotten two hours of rest-stop sleep. You've got to sacrifice for your craft.

Shea is a massive bowl that kind of reminds me of Dodger Stadium. Not a whole lotta outfield bleacher action, which I don't condone. One of the best things about going to the 'park is being able to catch a home-run ball.

The kids kept it lively with a chorus of cheers, and if it wasn't for my delicious Philly cheese from a corner deli in SpaHa (Spanish Harlem), it might have been too much to handle. Nothing a good sandwich and a couple beers can't cure.

CBS SportsLine desk favorite Shane Victorino worked a key walk in the seventh and later scored the go-ahead run on a Chase Utley double. Utley had four hits in five at-bats with two runs. But I think I've got a man-crush on Victorino. He's a hustler, baby. The Phillies have to find an everyday position for him. He's too versatile not to do so. Aaron Rowand or not, somebody has to be moved for the V.

Beer price: $6.75

Kansas City @ New York Yankees, Yankee Stadium

When the best golfer in the world is in attendance and Derek Jeter gets his 2,000th hit, you don't think it can get any sweeter. But not even Tiger Woods or a maddening downpour could stop things from getting better. The Royals, losers in 13 straight games, held off the most hated team in all of sports in front of their home crowd. K.C. beat the big, bad Yanks, as Angel Berroa hit a three-run blast in the eighth to break it open.

It started raining in the seventh, beginning with light showers. I went with a pair of friends, and both used the safety of an umbrella. I toughed it out for a couple innings (sans umbrella), then had to relent as we retreated to the overhang at the top of the upper deck. After the Yanks retired three Royals in the top half of the ninth, the rain picked up, and ... d'oh. The umps signalled to bring out the tarp to cover the infield. Ugh. Three more outs and we would have completed the game. I don't really believe in leaving a game early but ... I'm telling you, it was 40-days-and-40-nights downpour. At the request of a friend we bolted, as I was sure the game would be called. I was drenched, and the rain kept coming. No way they would start it back up.

They started the game back up (I came to find out the next day) after a 108-minute rain delay. Thanks goodness Jason Giami grounded into a double play after Gary Sheffield's RBI single. It would have made me sick to hear the Yanks rallied for a win. Especially when I had bolted early to escape the rain. Once again, it was uncontrollable rain. Insanity. I promise.

Beer price: $7.75

Milwaukee @ Philadelphia, Citizens Bank Park

I'll say this for Philly: It has the pro sports thing figured out. Even in the 21st century. All three major sports venues are within walking distance: Lincoln Financial Field (Eagles), the Wachovia Center (76ers, Flyers) and Citizens Bank Park (Phillies). Little or no traffic getting to the game. Plenty of tailgaters. This is how it's supposed to be. I grew up early on in the Madison area, where you didn't go to a game without tailgating. Then I moved to Utah and there wasn't the tailgating culture. That's the purpose of sports, pro and college, in my mind. Go to the game, have some drinks, some good eats, get snookered a little bit. It's all in good fun.

Of course, a few Philly fans were a bit too soused. Now, as mentioned, I'm a Brewers fan, as they are from my home state. After receiving a Brewers shirt and M-B foam mitt hand for my B-Day, it was only natural to flaunt them. It didn't take an inning for the foam hand to create a near-scuffle. So the Brewers were hot early, building a 4-1 lead after one and a half. A friend and I were doing the stand-up, double-handed, lean back clap, as per required at sporting events (my brother and I adopted this practice long ago, noting how every sports fan instinctively knows that it is right. Especially those in business attire). After awhile, my awesome foam hand drew the attention of an impartial drunk Boston fan who was taking in the game with friends. He was amazed at the brilliance of the foam hand and wanted to buy it off of me. He offered my money, gold, riches, empty promises of a lucrative acting career. But I wasn't budging. It was a gift, and an exceptional one. So while we are in bargaining talks, a pair of drunk Philly fans start trading four-letter words with this Sox fan, before one declares, "You know, for a Sox fan, it's worth it" (I'm assuming he was talking about the impending arrest for assault, $10,000 or so in court costs and the next sixth months to year of his life in county).

So the two parties exchanged more curses, yo-mamma barbs and other unpleasantries before nearly everyone in the section was on the side of this BoSox fan who just wanted to try on my foam hand. Drunk Surly Man got cussed out and nearly brawled with two others in the stands, and another man accosted him for behaving in such a disrespectful manner in front of his kids. The man finally headed for the exit after security came around and asked if we had a problem. No problem, officer.

Then we had a ballgame. The Phils tied things up with a Ryan Howard two-run HR, but my boys Richie Weeks and Billy Hall came through with eighth-inning homers (Hall's to the upper deck) as the good guys won on the road, extending our road-team winning streak to four games.

Beer price: $5.75

Los Angeles Dodgers @ Washington, RFK Stadium

Least favorite ballpark of the trip, and probably of all-time. Of course, I've only seen games at ... hmmm, five other current big league 'parks (San Diego, L.A. Dodgers and Angels, Chicago Cubs, Colorado), plus the Brewers' former home, Milwaukee County Stadium, where of course the classic Major League was filmed. Some fan. But I hear Toronto and Oakland aren't the greatest parks to catch a game. So there's hope for you yet, RFK.

And I used to be of the thinking that big league teams should stop crying about their ballparks. That they should make their dollar and shut up about how they don't have all the latest and greatest in technology. Then I watched a game at RFK. It didn't help that it was approaching 200 degrees, with a heat index of 300. I sweat just thinking about it. The sun came out and it got hot. Sauna hot. If you had a seat in the sun, you were scrambling for a seat in the shade.

The Nats broke our streak of road winners, as a three-run fifth inning thanks to a three-run jack by Ryan Zimmerman (Nick Johnson also had a pair of round-trippers) lifted the D.C. boys to a 10-4 good buddy (Straight from the SportsCenter TelePrompTer).

I've got this to say about the metro in D.C.: Tallest escalators ever. In the history of man. Actually, did a little escalator research and apparently the highest is at the CNN Building in Atlanta, rising 160 feet or eight stories. Rest easy knowing that.

Beer price: $6.50

While I was gone

• Mississauga, Ontario. Point to it on a map and I'll give you a look that says, "Uhh, come again." OK, I just found it. It's home to over 700,000 people. The area was front-and-center because that's where Ricky Williams reported for Toronto Argonauts practice. Ricky had a short cut and was curiously shaven, perhaps having turned over a new leaf. Or at least seeking that all-important PR so that he can get paid millions to run around with a pigskin again.
• Apparently Nationals manager Frank Robinson is a cryer. I had no idea. Seems like it got a little dusty in the postseason press conference, as Robinson explained his reasoning for yanking third-string catcher Matthew LeCroy, who had botched a string of throws. His sincerity nearly brought me to tears. I wish I was kidding.
• Barry Bonds finally hits No. 715. Yes, now we will go on to covering Albert Pujols. Us of the bastard media, which so hype your kind so as to enable you to earn the big-money contract. Thanks for getting it out of the way, Barry. You're about as much fun to deal with as herpes. I've heard.

So tonight we found out that Toronto won the No. 1 pick, followed by the Bulls (thanks Isiah) and Bobcats. The Trailblazers' second-half tank-job (they won five of their last 38 games to finish at 21-61) got them the fourth pick. But really, this ping pong, Cheech-and-Chong lotto is ridiculous. Give the worst team the No. 1 overall pick. Obviously they need it.

OK then, on to the top five-or-so players. It's a pretty thin draft. We're not going to get a LeBron or a Dwight Howard, and we'll be lucky to get a Chris Paul outta this crop. There isn't a lottery pick out there that is a home run -- someone who can come in and make an impact, let alone be a No. 3 or No. 4 option.

The two best players in college hoops? At least statistically and undoubtedly in the eyes of Dickie V? Awesome AmMo Adam Morrison and J.J. Redick, baby. Both will be decent pros, but not superstars -- think Keith Van Horn and Jim Paxson. Morrison could become a poor man's Dirk, but he's not quite as big. Sure, he can find his shot, but at 6-foot-8, when everyone else guarding him is that big, I have my doubts. He showed in college he can create his own shot and he's a great spot-up shooter, but he's a defensive liability.

LaMarcus Aldridge is probably the top prospect (6-foot-10, 245, Texas, Soph.), but I'm not sold on him. Sure, he should've come out because he's got an NBA body and NBA skills, but that's not because he's head-and-shoulders above the rest. He's got some moves around the hoop, a little baby hook and is a good shot blocker. He has even shown he can stretch a defense with outside touch. But he won't have a half-foot on everyone like in college. And he could use a little bit more beef to be an NBA power forward. Then again, KG's 220 and it seems to work out for him. That's being picky, but Aldridge isn't an impact player. And he'll be Top 3. That says all you need to know about that draft.

Another chic player: Benetton Treviso forward Andrea Bargnani (6-foot-11, 240). Yeah, a dude named Andrea. The book on Andrea: In Benetton Treviso's 77-70 win over Armani Jeans Milano (not making that up) on Tuesday night, Bargnani had 9 points and 8 rimbalzis (I'm guessing rebounds. Anyone in the house know a little Italian?). He's tall, and he's 20. Darko anybody? As long as he doesn't end up with a Detroit, he'll get the chance for a little seasoning. We'll see.

By the way, Drew Nicholas is not only on the same Benetton roster, but is running the league. The former Terp scored 26 in the game. In case you're curious (hell, I was), here are more Euro hoops updates.

You know, I bet it would be a lot of fun to go play ball in Europe. Learn a language, a little money, go backpacking on your off-days, hit the Eurail. I wish I had the means to quit what I was doing and give it a shot. Well, I guess I do. So what's stopping me? Common sense I guess, and the fact that I'm 20 pounds over desired playing weight. Oh yeah, and the fact that I'm undersized (6-foot, 190) and slow-footed to begin with. But hey, I can stroke the 3. Man, my scouting report on myself is pretty bad. To have a pro do it would be brutal. I'm starting to realize how these guys feel.

A little aside here. After my senior year of high school (6½ years ago now), I was traveling abroad visiting a Finnish exchange student that my family had hosted. Now, having grown up with basketball I had the fundamentals down.

How did we get so off-tangent? OK, the draft.

Couple others

Tyrus Thomas: Unmatched leaping ability. That's all you hear about the guy. He's a leaper, he's so athletic. Is that all it takes to become a Top 3 pick anymore? In this draft, yes. Is he going to be a Shawn Marion or a Stromile Swift? I'm guessing the later, but time will tell. So would an MVP point guard.

Marcus Williams: Was a playmaker and ran the show on a team chock full of first-rounders. Can finish around the hoop. Uses right and left hand effectively around the hoop. Yet, he's undersized a bit at 6-foot-2, and he doesn't have Chris Paul ability to where it won't matter. Best case Tony Parker. Worst case Luke Ridnour.

Brandon Roy: He looks a lot like Marion, but doesn't really play like him. But still, if I had a pick in the Top 5, this is the guy I want on my team. He's got heart, and all of the sudden it sounds like I'm writing a Disney movie. He's just 6-foot-5, but he's got hustle, he's got an inside-outside game. He's got the it factor. You can't really put it into words. Best case Jason Richardson. Worse case I'm a moron.

Rudy Gay: He was lauded all season long, praised as a Top 5 pick, which he'll be. I keep asking myself why. He's got the Aldridge pass: He's got an NBA body (6-foot-8 SF) and NBA game, but I don't ever remember being wowed. He's got a nice stroke and can slash, but isn't all that great of a ball-handler. Best case Rip Hamilton. Worst case Rashad McCants. In other words, he'll stick in the league either way, but he'll either get put in the right system and look like a star or get put in the wrong system and become mediocre.

Patrick O'Bryant: Can anybody say Loren Woods? I swear, they are the same player. I think Woods doctored some birth certificates. Best-case scenario, he's a Josh Childress, who continues to blossom in the ATL. Add Jared Jeffries to the list.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a nice little week planned. Heading to the great Northeast for some hardball. Going to see a game at Fenway, Yankee, Shea and points in between. Hopefully I'll snag a souvenir foul ball.

For the record

• I used to be a Rachel Nichols man. The flowing red hair. The soft, supple voice. However, Erin Andrews is really making a run recently. She's really come into her own, I 'spose. She knows her role in the offense. I think she used to try to do too much. Of course, neither has achieved a spot in the Hall of Fame like Lisa Guerrero.
• Also, in case you didn't notice, SPiN, the CBS SportsLine.com version of Page 2, was given a big boost after an agreement with Maxim. Now I can look at scantily clad women at work and totally be justified in doing so. It's actually part of my job -- to make sure the site looks clean at all times. This corner of the site will be especially mistake free. Here's one Hometown Hottie from here in South Florida showing her "talents." Now, let's see if she can report from the sidelines. That would be almost as cool as a fight between Neo, Robocop and Yoda.
• I think if Stephen A. Smith yelled a little louder, I'd respect his opinion more. He just can't seem to get it across. Maybe it's the headache. I'll take two Aleve and try to learn how to read lips, and watch it on mute and hopefully then I'll be able to respect and fully understand his opinion. If I was his producer, which thank God I would never be, I would hold the volume-control button with a kung fu grip. Every time he was about to speak (or cut somebody off), I'll knock it down a couple levels. Really, this is something every Stephen A. listener would be thankful for.

Let's talk Bonds.

I was glogging (live game log for those who aren't familiar, or an in-game commentary. You should check one out, especially when I'm doing them 'cause that's when they are the best) the Mets-Phillies game the other day and during an hour-and-a-half rain delay, your mind tends to wander from the action at hand. As such, I opened the floor to readers about various topics, one of them being Bonds (Should his records carry an asterisk, should MLB honor his 714th and 715th homers and is he is a quality individual?). One reader, Sinatra, wrote:

"As far as Bonds chasing the Babe, apples and oranges. When Babe did it, he did it with raw talent. There was no pressure to sculpt the body, and the ball was a lot less 'jumpy.' As for Bonds, he has had a heck of a career, and steroids or no steroids he has displayed a lot of talent himself. But with everything that today's hitters have at their disposal (the training, equipment and even information exchange), it really does give them an advantage over yesteryear's heroes."

Well played.

It reminds me of a scene from the landmark 1998 film The Big Lebowski. After The Dude doesn't make the bag drop, Mr. Lebowski wants to know why. The Dude so eloquently retorts, "Look, man, I've got certain information, all right. Certain things have come to light. And, you know, has it ever occurred to you, that, instead of, uh, you know, running around, uh, uh, blaming me, you know, given the nature of all this new s---, you know, I ... this could be a-a-a-a lot more, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, complex. I mean, it's not just, it might not be just such a simple ... uh, you know?"

Right. Now to my point. What Sinatra said really cleared it up. His new information really cleared things up, and luckily The Dude is not here to explain it. I am.

There might as well be two record books -- one for the pre-steroids period and one from 1990 and beyond. Comparing today's ball to the kind played in Ruth's era is like comparing apples and oranges. And not just for stats but for scouting reports, magnitude of ballparks, offseason weight training, television contracts -- the overall popularity of the game.

I can't really blame Barry for juicing. As my bro said in his own blog, Barry didn't do anything against the rules. MLB didn't care, and baseball grew to become such a big-money game starting in the '80s and really into the '90s that when baseball went on strike, they were desperate to get attention again.

But the one cool thing about baseball was that it spanned generations. It was our nation's history. You could always compare numbers to Hack Wilson, Henry Aaron and pre-war times. We always had the stats to talk about with grandparents. "Oh, he was the best. Look at the stats. His stats speak for themselves." But money and greed got in the way.

I was watching that Bonds on Bonds PR machine the other day and it interviewed other hitters/pitchers/coaches/media about when Barry would break the Babe's "record." (Of course I use record loosely because it is no record at all. It's second place, but like I said before, it's history.) The poll was taken before the season and player after player, manager after manager made their picks as to when Barry would break the record. April 20, April 22, April 24, April 28, April 30, May 1. The piece finished with someone saying May 7. As in, there was no way he would take that long.

Yet here we are and Barry still hasn't gotten it done. He couldn't do it in six straight games at home. He's trying to get to history so he doesn't have to deal with this headache anymore, but he's buckling under the added pressure, trying too hard to hit a homer. He wants to get it over with so the Giants can focus on their season -- a season that is getting lost in the chase. Every day there's a story about why he didn't hit it because there's the media firestorm at every game, waiting to break the story when he finally does. It'll be history. When he doesn't, hey, those papers/TV stations/magazines paid good money to send their writers there, they want something. So hence we get story after story about how he didn't do it and the whole issue gets blown out of proportion. Hey, he's old. His body is deteriorating. He's a shell of his former self. Not everyone has the stamina of 47-year-old Julio Franco. Barry will get it done. Eventually.

Here's my prediction: Bonds will tie and break the streak against the A's in Oakland as a DH in interleague play, hitting homers in back-to-back games. He'll use it as a reason to jump the bay for next season and beyond. There's no doubt he's still an asset in the lineup, even if he could use a Rascal Scooter to get to first base. He draws walks, he lets hitters before/after him get good pitches and he's still got the upper-deck power. Just don't expect him to play the field. It's painful enough watching him run to first.

Break up the Pads

The Friars are 22-16 to claim first in the NL West with a 12-4 mark on the road. They've won eight straight on the road, and 14 of 15 overall. They've lost just one game since April 30, and are following the same torrid pace that gave them the division pennant last season.

As my boy Scott Miller is happy to point out, the Pad-Squad went 22-6 in the month of May a season ago, with that month effectively winning the pathetic NL West as the Pads finished 82-80 (at least they got over .500).

Of course, the team has done most of its damage away from the unfriendly confines of Petco Park, though there was one memorable occurance at home thanks to one Rick Sutcliffe, who was completely hammered while visiting the boys in the booth.

Say wha?

Don't think this is getting past me. At first look you think, "OK, I get it, we're in the Midwest at a ballgame and this is some sort of educational thing for the kids. Run the bases, learn how to milk a cow, 'cause there's the likelihood you'll be a farmer in 15 years."

Then you realize it's in Los Angeles, errrr Anaheim, and I can speak from experience when I say you don't exactly pass too many Holsteins on the I-5. Doesn't this kind of promotion belong in the minors? Sometimes they take the rookie hazing a bit too far.

Race day. What an event it was. Eight hours of buildup for three minutes of action.

I'm not really a racing fan. Don't get me wrong, I go to the track every now and again, just to throw money away and grab a couple drinks, but this Kentucky Derby piqued my interest a little. The reason is threefold: the star-gazing, the whole crazy horse-naming thing and the even-nuttier parade of hats.

Thanks to technology, I can share a little bit of this excitement with you. You see, there are some advantages to the p.m. hours, the middle-of-the-week days off and the generally low quality of life as an editor, and it comes in the form of AP and Getty Images, two companies that provide probably 90 percent of the photos you see in the news media.

Let's get on with it.

We start with the hats, the real theater of the absurb. Hat connoisseurs, rejoice! (I hope such a fetish does not exist). They'd usually be the freaks that killed the party, but here it's quite the opposite -- they make the party. After seeing some of this talent, I'm predicting a new theme party at my house -- the party-hat party. I'm sure you'll feel the same after seeing some of these beauts:

-- This hat borders on parade float. So informational. It tells a story. So far off to a good start.

-- It's Miss Peacock. In the gallery. With the hat large enough to suffocate three teenagers.

-- If you thought Spike Lee was above donning a polka-dot beret, you'd be incorrect.

-- This one's up there. Do not cross go. Do not collect $200. It's the Kentucky Derby pimp.

-- Did somebody die? I thought this was supposed to be a happy event. Come on now, pep it up some.

-- Did somebody just happen upon the largest sunflower in history and forget to tell science about it? No worries, she'll make a hat of it.

-- And damn, check this little filly out. Not bad at all. She's a hottie. Or maybe it's a he. Never mind.

-- But none really measure up to this one, which is really in a category all its own. They go beyond the hat, creating an entire ensemble. I wish I could fill out wrestling tights like Mr. Hulk Hogan can. And there are friends "Macho Man" Randy Savage and the Honky Tonk Man. I whole-heartedly approve.

Secondly, there are stars, there are compulsive gamblers and then there are C-listers, and all of them converge and come out for the pomp of the Derby. After all, where else are you going to see Ludacris and one of the ZZ Top beardos in the same frame, as we did in the pre-race? Without further ado, let's take a look at some of the familiar names who took a day out with the ponies:

• What would a gambling event be without MJ? Seriously? Charles would have been there as well to try and upstage Michael, but he wasn't working the playoffs.
• Better ingredients, and now a better pan. Not even PapaJohn could say no to the Derby. He's probably got his own posse -- the PapaPosse. Where's a membership application? I'm in. You'd never go hungry.
• Let's take a minute for tsunami survivor Petra Nemcova. God bless her and the good work she does. Go ahead, take five minutes. And she's even wearing a hat. She cracked into my top 10 today.
• Is Serena Williams joining Sinbad on the seven seas? Did she look to Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean for some fashion tips?
• Time warp to circa 1989. Here's Boyz2Men. Well, only two of them. There were more, weren't there? I don't know. I don't really know why they deserve being mentioned.
• Mr. GQ Tom Brady wouldn't miss out on this. He's probably on the hunt for Nemcova, the shifty bastard. He's with Indy's Dwight Freeney. How are they pals? Beats me. Brady even got interviewed on the telecast along with Peyton Manning.
• Here's Phil Hellmuth. You've no doubt seen this "athlete" on TV numerous times, but hopefully you've never seen him acting on that crappy ESPN poker TV show. He's pictured with a couple other poker players, I think. OK, why did I grab this one? I guess I'm clearing the pallate for ...
• O.J. OK, the Juice kind of has his crazy look on. I'll just keep my distance. OK, OK, you didn't kill your ex. Now, take off the ski mask and drop the lead pipe.

Thirdly, you've got the age-old practice of horse-naming. This year's prize has to go to Sinister Minister, which so aptly describes one man in the CBS SportsLine newsroom twofold as he 1) Revels in broken bones, fractures and torn ligaments, coming up with new and unheard-of injuries, especially for "young punks" and arrogant showboats and 2) He goes by the nickname of "The Rev" or "The Dictator." I might have to start calling him the Sinister Minister.

Brother Derek, Barbaro and Lawyer Ron were the faves in this weekend's race. A solid trio of names. If this was my own personal derby, the one I may or may not attend if given the chance (cause horse racing is just really hard to get into, and there might be something better on TV the day of the race, like a Sopranos rerun or Teen Wolf), then. We all know I won't own a horse on an editor's salary, but it doesn't hurt to dream. Maybe I don't even need to own a horse, but rather just name some. I've got ideas:

-- Jabba No Bother: Not the last of the Star Wars reference you ever read in my blargs.

-- Mr. Smarmypants: Mr. really works when preceding any kind of horse name. Mr. Ed worked. Sir is strong as well. Even if it is impossible for a horse to be knighted.

-- Brown Wind: This is really an omage to a middle school friend, who actually had a horse by the same name. Not even kidding.

-- The Hansens: Yeah, plural. For a singluar. You gotta show your respect to wonderful characters in a wonderful piece of film.

OK, so I'm not so creative. Post your own race names on the message board. What do you got?

Lest I forget

-- Before Gilbert Arenas stepped to the free-throw line for a pair on Friday in Game 6, with the Wiz up one and two freebies away from a three-point lead and a Game 7 (Arenas' free throw percentage up to that point was 82 percent, the best in his five-year career, and he was 4-for-6 on the night), LeBron offered this psyche-out: "If you miss both of these free throws, you're going home."

True to his word, after Gilbert shanked a pair of free throws, Damon Jones nailed a 3-ball from the corner to eliminate the Wiz. LeBron had to share the love. Two game winners in one series is enough. Gilbert might have went postal on LeBrizzle if he in-the-faced him for the game.

-- To celebrate Cinco De Mayo (no, it's not Mexico's Independence Day, as many think, but the day Mexico turned back Napolean's French forces at the Battle of Puebla in 1862), one MLB team wore a special uni (you can't really say throwback. To commemorate the day, the Mexico-loving Texas Rangers wore jerseys with "Los Rangers" across the front. Really, Los Rangers. Now right now you probably don't believe me, so here's proof.

They couldn't do better? Throwing a "Los" in front of Rangers? Isn't that more of a slap to the face than the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo? I mean, if you're going to do it, don't half-ass it. Go all the way and make it "Los Guardabosques," which sounds much more pleasing, even though it might be troublesome to fit on the jersey.

"You're overrated."

"Well thanks, brother, I love you too," I say in response to my eldest brother Jeremy, via phone.

It's his buzzword, or buzzphrase, of the week/month (Let's hope it doesn't last).

I'm overrated. Work is overrated. His new PlayStation is overrated. Even his 5-year-old daughter is overrated. (But not the TV version of Buffy: The Vampire Slayer. It apparently doesn't get the respect it deserves, with its biting social commentary and ample Star Wars references.)

Everybody wants their respect, but then they get it and let us down. They're overrated. As we try to turn the page on the first round of the playoffs, nearly closing the chapter on the first two weeks of our two-month journey, let's pinpoint who/what is overrated:

5. Criticism of refs: They're not going away. They're just doing their job, a job that is lose-lose. If you're upset over a last-second call, realize that if your team hadn't choked all game, you wouldn't be where you are. If you want to leave the game in the refs' hands, so be it. Accept the consequences. Blaming the game on the refs is such a cop-out.

We all know the rules. There's going to be a bit of computer assistance/superstar calls. LeBron isn't going to be called for a travel. Ever. Let's not get caught up in these little mundane "rules" and get on with it. The NBA wants perimeter superstars like Kobe and LeBron. It's very clear with its hand-checking limitations and suspensions for bumps and physical play (come on people, this isn't hockey or baseball where it's just part of the game, though that would be awesome). Get used to a plethora of free throws at home. That's why there won't be another elite center anytime soon (as you can see with Shaq).

4. Deer in the headlights: In case you missed it, the Milwaukee Bucks' stay in the playoffs came to an end Wednesday. You probably didn't. I didn't watch much of the series either, and I'm a Bucks fan. No need. I caught a game in early April when the Bucks visited South Florida vs. the Heat when my bro (same one, three en total, for those of you keeping score at home) was in town. The game was over shortly after it began, as was the air in the AmericanAirlines Arena (No, that's not a typo, they just spell it retarded to get noticed? Childish, yes, yet effective).

Miami scored the first 14 points or something like that and cruised to a 31-14 first-quarter lead. It was one of the worst displays of effort I've ever seen. No hustle. No nothing. The Bucks were a barrage of Charlie Bell trifectas away from losing by 40. I knew right then that there was nothing to be excited about with the Bucks. It was just a disgusting loss. Bogut wasn't playing like a No. 1 pick should.

When the playoff race was nigh, I knew the Bucks were going to tank it and fall into the worst possible matchup, which they did. They played the Eastern champs (well, played is a funny word), who by looking at the crowd tonight in Detroit, didn't much see their Lake Michigan counterparts as a threat in the 122-93 thrashing in Game 5. I'm surprised the Bucks took a game.

3. Kobe the veteran: Kobe had some comments today about his spat with Raja Bell (which drew Raja a one-game suspension).

"Who is this kid? Should I know him?" Kobe said of Bell.

We get it. You're the scoring champ, Mr. 81 points. But can't you take the moral high road here? Do you have to be such a show-up? Well, Most Valuable Prima Donna, this "kid" is actually older than you by two years. The Virgin Islands-born Bell, at 29, is in his sixth year in the league. Now Bryant, at 27, a 10-year NBA vet, is dissing Bell by calling him "this kid."

We get it, you're a competitor. You want to win even in these little verbal jabs. You want to win a friendly game of chess or a game of pool. Just like Mike. But if Kobe could handle these kinds of situations like MJ, playfully throwing it aside as two competitors going at it -- in short, with class -- he would be known as the superstar and not some egomaniac. I want to like Kobe. I like his hustle. His game for the most part. He is a champion, thanks to Shaq. But it's crap like this that just turns me off. Raja is trying to get a rise out of him, and Kobe fires back. Then again, if I was Raja I'd probably respond to Kobe's in-the-face jumper to end Game 4 just the same. Gotta protect the rep.

2. On-air "talent" in the Association: OK, I get it, you've been in/still are in "The League," have drawn up plays in the league or, in Tom Tolbert's case, once got dunked on while in the the league, but does that justify a spot on the sidelines? Sometimes yes, in other cases, heeeeeell no. Jalen Rose, we're looking at you.

Jalen during sideline interviews: "I am a robot. No, I am not reading this off a TelePrompTer. I promise."

I hope Veronica Corningstone doesn't slip something to the producer.

"Go @!$% yourself, Chicago/Toronto/New York."

And was anyone else confused every time Houston coach/TNT analyst Jeff Van Gundy had a comment? I kept wondering why Cheryl Miller broke off from her sideline reporting post, only to realize three quarters later that it was Van Grundy.

1. King of Krunk, LeBron James: OK, just kidding, he's far from overrated. Just making sure you made it this far. LeBron is the antithesis of the word. He's 21, just now enjoying the wonders of vodka gimlets and gambling (don't take tips from the Sir Charles or John Daly, 'Bron 'Bron). Legally, anyways. What was Michael doing when he was 21? Taking jumpers at UNC. Here LeBron is, in his third year in the league, getting a triple-double in his first playoff outing and hitting two buzzer beaters. Not a bad start for the kid. He is single-handedly carrying the Cavs not only to the playoffs, but to a 3-2 lead against a playoff-tested team that advanced into the second round last season.

So the Texans not only say "No thanks" to the next Gale Sayers/Barry Sanders, but also to hometown glory boy Vince Young for a D-end. Simply stunning. Still trying to figure it out. They end up nabbing a defensive end from an N.C. State team that went an astonishing 7-5 last year, finding themselves 14-0 winners over South Florida in the Meineke Car Care Bowl. The Wolfpack had three defensive players total selected in the first round (LB Manny Lawson at No. 22 and DT John McCargo).

But maybe they don't know something we don't. Let's take a look at the last five DE's taken first in the draft, courtesy of this nfl.com link:

1. 2005: Houston -- Travis Johnson, DE, Florida State, No. 16 overall (Let's see, they could've had Lofa Tatupu, who slipped to No. 45)

2. 2004: New Orleans -- Will Smith, DE, Ohio State, No. 18 overall (Na, na, na, na, na-na-na, haven't heard of him. OK, OK, 8.5 sacks last year for 23rd in the league. Respect)

3. 2003: Baltimore -- Terrell Suggs, DE, Arizona State, No. 10 overall (OK, he's worked out with 8.0 sacks, but they passed on Troy Polamalu at No. 16)

4. 2002: Carolina -- Julius Peppers, DE, North Carolina, No. 2 overall (the Panthers probably don't regret passing on Joey Harrington at No. 3, or even Dwight Freeney at No. 11, for that matter)

5. 2001: Cincinnati -- Justin Smith, DE, Missouri, No. 4 overall (could've had LT).

I'm not sure this whole analysis really worked to my advantage. If anything, it kind of validates their taking Super Mario. But he's the next Barry Sanders! I still can't figure out how Texans GM Charlie Casserly is convinced Williams will have that kind of impact, or if it's all FEMA-inspired community service. Maybe Casserly's got a soft spot for the Big Easy, throwing them a bone in their time of need.

Here are a few more thoughts from the NFL Draft 2006, the quest for cheap labor, cause people really eat up this crap (myself included, I guess):

No dodging this draft:

• My Pack snared Ohio State LB A.J. Hawk with pick No. 5. Like it. How can you not? G.B. needs plenty of defensive aid, because there will be plenty more short-field situations with the gunslinger back there. The Pack parted ways with Javon Walker, a Pro Bowler from two seasons ago who was unhappy with his contract status before tearing his ACL in the '05 opener. Should they have paid him? Of course, for the sake of Favre, but we knew it was coming.
• Now I was a little TO'd when LenDale White didn't fall to the Pack at No. 45 by Tennessee, getting scooped up two picks prior to Green Bay's pick. That was a sexy pick and he'll be a hoss. Ahman/Samkon will do for another year. But did Favre look at the roster? Did he notice the trend? The offense didn't get any better. Traded away its top, disgruntled receiver. Lost WR Antonio Chatman, K Ryan Longwell and released WR Terrence Murphy. C Mike Flanagan signed elsewhere. They got a little bit of help with Charles Woodson and Kenderick Allen on the defensive side, but did the Packers intentionally diss Favre or what? It's almost like they've tried to get the offense worse. What does it mean for No. 4? He'll be chucking to Donald Driver, Rod Gardner and undersized draft picks Greg Jennings, Cory Rodgers and Will Blackmon.
• Alex Smith has never been happier to get VD. Had to go there. Tried to carefully lay it out for maximum effect. A little too easy, but fun nonetheless. He didn't even have to get swabbed. Well, it's not exactly protection for the former Ute, who was sacked 26 times in eight appearances last season, but at least he can share the pain.
• First the Clippers in the playoffs (and not even in them, but winning a series) and now this? The Arizona Cardinals, at least on paper, look to be a decent little football team. At least offensively. That crafy Denny Green. The Arizona Cardinals snagged Hollywood Leinart with the No. 10 pick. How about the Titans passing on Norm Chow's golden boy. He's going to be calling the plays and he can't even get the QB he groomed? It's going to turn out better for Leinart, anyhow. Matt, meet Edge, Larry Fitzgerald, Anquan Boldin and now Georgia tight end Leonard Pope, who the Cards scooped up in the third round. Actually, Leinart will ride the pine for a couple games until an obligatory Kurt Warner injury. Over/under on that one is four games. I'm not sure Warner will even last even that long. Leinart had all the weapons at USC, and now he has stumbled into them once again. Some call it luck, I call him good. It'll earn him more money in the long run, at least $10 to $15 mill.
• Though not drafted, Ed Nelson (speaking of obligatory, the token doofy white dude from UConn's bench), Jai Lewis (from your Final Four George Washington Colonials) and John David Washington (son of Den-zelll. Yes, that Denzel) all signed free agent contracts. Which mean they'll all have NFL careers for at least two days into training camp.

Jose can you see ... how nuts you are: Jose Mesa has faced former teammated Omar Vizquel a trio of times, beaning him each time and vowing to do so every time he faces him. You've heard the story, Vizquel talked smack and blamed Mesa for blowing the 1997 World Series when the two were teammates.

They're both acting like children, which is why we've gotta do what we've gotta do: Get them both to sign up for the next UFC pay-per-view. The octagon would be the perfect setting for a one-time only, let bygones-be-bygones slugfest. It's safer than a dark alley. Let's get it on.

Speaking of nuts: Sweet sassy molassey. No need to grab testies, Reggie Evans. He was fined $10K for a low blow. When being boxed out by the Clippers' Chris Kaman, he reached between Kaman's legs and grabbed his sack. Evans was shoved to the floor by Kaman, who received a flagrant foul. Reggie, a little common courtesy. Buy him a drink next time before getting that reach-around. Common courtesy. There's no such thing as a free ride. Heyooooooo.

Reggie's lucky this took place on an NBA court in front of a thousands. But how could that be? Isn't this much more embarrassing? Not really. If this happened on the playground he'd be in the hospital. If you're going for the gonads, you better be protected by officials/teammates/police. Better to be shamed than broken in half. What exactly do you say to him if you're one of his teammates at this juncture? It's kind of like the morning-after. Uhhh, so how about those Rockies? Let's just say Carmelo will be wearing a towel coming out of the shower from now on.

Rip Hamilton was fined $15K -- yes, more than Kaman -- for elbowing Michael Redd in his grille. You can really put a price on manhood, but in this case ... $5K apiece? Is that the message?

Smoke if you got 'em, and I'm pretty sure he's got 'em: So if you're Ricky Williams, and you're in the neighborhood of $8 million in debt or whatever to the Fins, are you going to take your services north to the Canadian League? What about the Arena League? Too bad Tags hasn't reached into the Asian market like he has in NFL Europe. Ricky would be all over a soul-searching move to India.

Atta boy: Last but not least, I'm somewhat -- check that, very -- embarrassed that I work on a computer every day, and that I've pretty much devoted my career to the Internet industry, and yet can't do this. I can't create a simple, aesthetically pleasing website, like my teenage cousin Mikey. Well done.