A is for Anthony, as in Anthony Kim, the 22-year old golfer who lapped the field at the Wachovia on Sunday for his first PGA Tour win. While it might be too early to say he's ready to fulfill the role of Tiger's foil, expect golf commentators to add his name to the discussion all summer long. (A is also for asinine, as in "trying to write a column with twenty-six salient points was an asinine idea.")

B is for Boston, as in the basketball team from Beantown trying to live up to their playoff expectations. Squeaking by Atlanta in the first round was one thing, but if Kevin Garnett doesn't take a page out of LeBron's book and start offensively taking over games in the fourth quarter, he might be watching LeBron battle Kobe and the Lakers in the NBA Finals next month from the comfort of his couch. Am I writing off San Antonio that easily? Yes. I'm done with the Flopping Popoviches.

C is for coaching, as in my role with my son Parker's tee ball team this summer. With my brother-in-law Chad taking on managerial duties (pitching to the kids, scheduling snacks, wiping snotty noses), my only job is to help out on the field during games. In 3 games so far this year I've tied 2 pairs of shoes, destroyed 1 tower of dirt made by our second baseman, and repeatedly told the kids to stop looking at the hot air balloon beyond left field. You've gotta love tee ball.

D is for draft, as in the NBA Draft being held at the end of June. The best thing about the NBA Draft isn't even the draft itself; it's the draft lottery, which is held a month earlier (May 20th this year). Like last year's duo of Odom and Durant, this year's top tier of talent runs two deep with Derrick Rose and Michael Beasley likely to be taken before anyone else. Miami and Seattle have the best shot of landing the first pick percentage-wise, but now that Isiah Thomas is out of power in New York, don't be surprised to see the Knicks land the top choice, whether by karmic boomerang or frozen envelope.

E is for the EPL, as in the Barclay's English Premier League. If you're like me, you follow European soccer about as closely as you follow Professional Scrabble and Women's Billiards, but I know there's a few of you out there who live and die with their footie teams. By the end of May the Premier League Champion will have been crowned, and like every year of its existence, the winner will once again be one of the big four: Manchester United, Arsenal, Chelsea, or Blackburn (though Blackburn is already out of the running for lack of points.)

F is for Fenway Park, as in the place I'll take Parker this July for his first ever Red Sox game. When I told him we were going, his first question was "Are they playing the Yankees?" Sorry kid, Daddy doesn't make Red Sox-Yankees money, he makes Red Sox-Orioles money.

G is for golf, as in something I hope to do a lot more of this summer than last year. Taking a page out of Chad Gibbs' book, some of my buddies at work and I have created a golf schedule this summer that includes four major tournaments and a point system to crown an overall winner. In a move that will likely cost one or all of us our jobs, we've even named the tournaments after quirky coworkers past and present. I'm not sure what I'm going to say when Jeff Smichter walks by my desk and sees a trophy with his name engraved on it, but if my recent play is any indication, it's a scenario I shouldn't have to worry about.

H is for horse racing, as in the only sport that might be dying in this country faster than boxing. On May 17th, Kentucky Derby winner Big Brown will attempt to win the Preakness Stakes as well, giving the country the only thing it really cares about when it comes to horse racing: a chance at the Triple Crown. If Big Brown (or as I like to call him "The First Kentucky Derby Winner Named after a Bowel Movement") finishes first in the Preakness, all eyes will be on Elmont, New York on June 7th to see if he can win the Triple Crown at Belmont. And by "all eyes", I mean "a few hundred people".

I is for indigestion, as in the way competitive eaters are going to be feeling after the Nathan's Hot Dog eating contest on July 4th. I'm not the guy who takes a moral stand against the competition because of worldwide hunger problems, though I think there might be some merit to that. I just think its gross to watch people shove handfuls of soggy hot dogs down their throats. If that makes me un-American, so be it.

J is for Jacksonville, as in the site of Georgia and Florida's annual neutral site football tussle. Though the game isn't until November, both teams will spend their summer trying to keep up with USC, Oklahoma, and Ohio State in the BCS Ratings. While most pre-season polls have the Gators at the back end of the Top Ten, many are picking Knowshon Moreno and the Bulldogs as the early favorite to win it all. One thing we won't be looking forward to during the summer? A BCS Playoff System. Everyone and their mother would like to see a playoff system in place, but the selfish cronies who run the show could care less.

K is for Kansas, as in your National Collegiate Basketball Champions. I was one of the many who thought they would spend their summer looking for a new head basketball coach to replace Bill Self. But Self didn't chase the money down to Oklahoma State, so the Jayhawks can instead spend the summer figuring out how they're going to make it back to the Final Four (a daunting task considering most of their starters not returning).

L is for LOST, as in the best show on television right now. Even though Season 4 has felt a bit disjointed thanks to the writer's strike, the episodes themselves have been some of the best we've seen all series. If you've never seen the show, and you're tired of people telling you to watch it, skip down to the next paragraph. Still here? Then go rent Season 1 on DVD this summer and give the show a chance. With the series finale already set for May 2010, you don't have to worry about making a commitment to a show that will stretch on forever. Trust me on this one.

M is for music, as in the releases slated this summer from some of my favorite bands. Death Cab for Cutie's next album releases later this month, Coldplay's "Viva La Vida" hits shelves in June, and MuteMath's next project has been rumored to be dropping in mid to late September. If that's not enough, everyone's favorite boy band from 15 years ago, New Kids on the Block, just announced a new single and a lineup of Fall tour dates. (I'm not kidding, Google it for yourself. They'll be appearing on the Today Show on May 16th if you've got nothing better to do.)

N is for New York, as in your defending Super Bowl Champion New York Giants (still sounds weird, doesn't it?). Towards the end of the summer they'll embark on a title defense in what is arguably the toughest division in the NFL: the NFC East. With or without Jeremy Shockey on the roster (though it looks like it will be "with"), the Giants have a tough road ahead of them. The Super Bowl runner-up Patriots, meanwhile, should start the season 4-0 with opening games against the Chiefs, Jets, Dolphins, and 49ers. Despite losing in the big game, New England remains the team to beat having won 18 of their last 19 games. Unfortunately for them, their fans probably won't snap out of their Super Bowl induced funk until about Week 10 of the season.

O is for Olympics, as in the Summer Olympics being held in Beijing this August. Athletes from around the world will compete in 28 different sports (over 300 events), including table tennis, handball, and synchronized roller archery (ok, maybe I made that last one up). NBC, who paid almost 6 billion dollars to televise the games (entirely in HD, I should add), successfully petitioned the IOC to have popular events scheduled during prime time U.S. viewing. This has angered some gymnasts, who, as a general rule, don't like to pull out the Iron Horse before lunch. There's a 12-hour difference between Beijing and New York City, so a majority of competitions will happen while you're sleeping or reading Burnside at your cubicle enjoying your morning coffee.

P is for Philadelphia, as in the Flyers, who are looking to give the City of Brotherly Love its first World Championship in any major sport in 25 years. If I knew anything about hockey, this is where I would tell you who I thought was going to win the Stanley Cup, but since I have no idea, I'll let hockey fans take care of that in the comments section.

Q is for Qaid, qi, qua, and qoph. Great 'Q' words to know if you're a scrabble player like I am.

R is for Rays, as in the baseball team tied for first place in the A.L. East as of May 1st. Tampa Bay is full of young offensive stars, boasts a pitching staff that is second in the A.L. in ERA, and has a coach that loves to give off an emo-artist vibe with his thick-rimmed glasses. When cool April nights have turned to the dog days of August will the Rays, Cardinals, Marlins, and White Sox find themselves near the tops of their respective divisions like they are now? Probably not. But for now their fan bases are enjoying the possibility, and that's a good thing for baseball. As it stands right now, I like the Red Sox to beat the D-Backs in the World Series. Webb vs. Beckett, Haren vs. Schilling, Owings vs. Matsuzaka, and Scherzer vs. Buccholz? Those are some hot matchups. Somewhere, Joe Maddon's glasses are getting steamy.

S is for Speedo, as in the bathing suit company best known for making us cringe at nearly naked old men on the beach. Their revolutionary swimsuit for competitive swimmers, the LZR, has caused a huge stir in the swimming community to the point where the suit has been blamed for the shattering of a number of world records in the past few months. The Italian swim team recently went so far as to call the LZR "technological doping", a comment that prompted Shawne Merriman to order up a few suits to wear under his Chargers uniform next year.

T is for Tiger, as in the golfer who won't be winning golf's Grand Slam this year thanks to Masters winner Trevor Immelman. Tiger just got his knee cleaned up under the knife, but he has promised he'll be back yelling at photographers and gritting his teeth after missed putts in time for June's U.S. Open.

U is for ugly, as in "this Roger Clemens thing sure is getting ugly." Tough to feel bad for a guy who has brought this upon himself by making one bad decision after another, but yeah, I feel a little bad for him. The only way this could get worse is if it comes out that he was making spy tapes for Bill Belicheck and placing bets with Tim Donaghy all while dating Jorge Posada.

V is for Vendetta, a movie I have never seen.

W is for WNBA, as in the league that will open up in a few weeks for its 12th season of professional women's basketball. Making jokes about women's basketball is too easy; instead, let me give you a few reasons to watch. [Okay. 20 minutes just elapsed while I racked my brains for reasons to watch the WNBA]. Scratch that, let's go with my favorite fake WNBA motto from my college buddy Matt: "The WNBA. It's like watching Men's basketball being played in two feet of water." Yup, that felt much better.

X is for the X Games, as in "let's hope no one flies off their skateboard and plummets 40 feet in the air like last year". I'm not sure how Jake Brown survived that horrific accident last year, but then again, I wasn't sure how the X Games survived those first few years in Newport, RI either. Held in sunny southern California once again, the 13th annual X Games will be all over ESPN come the end of July.

Y is for Why, as in "Why are grocery store receipts so long?" I went to our local grocery store last night and bought 3 things. The cashier handed me back The Brothers Karamazov on 3-inch wide receipt paper. By the time I had the thing folded up short enough to fit into my pocket, it was too thick. I was like George Costanza trying to close his overstuffed wallet; I had to carry the receipt out under my arm like it was a book. Enough with the coupons and the surveys already, just itemize my purchases and let me get on with my life.

Z is for Zebras, as in the guys who referee NFL games when they're not busy lawyering up rich clients. (And I don't care that Microsoft Word doesn't think "lawyering" is a word, because I do. In fact, I just clicked 'add to dictionary' to make the red squiggly lines go away.) When the NFL returns at the end of summer, one thing you might notice is the removal of the 5-yard incidental facemask penalty. From now on, either it's a 15-yard penalty or it won't be called at all. Gone too is the force-out rule that gave refs the power to rule that a receiver would have landed in bounds had it not been for a defender pushing him out. This year, the receiver must get both feet in bounds, regardless of whether he's hit by a defender or a low-flying biplane while in the air. Rule changes that were not approved: 5-yard penalties for being Chad Johnson and Game Misconduct penalties for any team wearing all purple uniforms (yes Vikings and Ravens, I'm looking at you.)

Well, until they add a few more letters to our alphabet, I get to call it quits after the letter 'Z'. My apologies to any summer sports that I failed to mention. Feel free to set me straight in the comments section.

The average sports enthusiast has a perception of the NHL that consists of; the Stanley Cup, Barry Melrose, Barry's mullet, Marty Mcsorley, Wayne Gretzky, 'The Miracle On Ice', and the Detroit Red Wings. If only people knew what they were missing.

Our society is obsessed with mass media, and thus hockey in America continues to struggle. The NHL is better experienced in person, making matters worse for those attempting to engage by watching on television. Football and basketball are best viewed on the screen, where action can be watched utilizing various camera angles and replays.
Contrarily, hockey and baseball need to be witnessed from the bleachers; the rhythm, flow, and atmosphere is lost when transferred onto a monitor.

Yes, the NHL lock-out was a self-inflicted attempt at obliteration, but other factors have helped kill its popularity. Fox implemented the infamous "glow-puck", ESPN refused to show fights, and Versus - who finally perfected the art of promoting the sport - has too small of a market to make any positive impact.

In my home state of Minnesota, hockey is king. The Minnesota Wild have sold out every home game since their inception into the NHL. The University of Minnesota's program - the most prestigious of the state's five division one collegiate hockey teams - is largely responsible for our nation's 1960 gold medal and the 1980 'Miracle On Ice'. Roller-hockey, mini-hockey, board-hockey, street-hockey, air-hockey, bubble-hockey, foot-hockey and a dozen other adapted forms of the sport are in large supply year-round.

While I was doing a college internship in Alabama, I made the mistake of boldly declaring hockey's supremacy over football. Pandora's Box was opened. My southern friends were literally speechless; it was the quiet before the storm. Sacrilege! Rumors of my heresy traveled faster than Dale Earnhardt in the '98 Daytona 500. I was doomed, but I held my ground by stating "facts".

Which is more difficult: Catching a Peyton Manning pass, or stopping a Brett Hull slap shot? Getting blindsided by a cornerback running at full speed, or by a defenseman skating at full speed? Running hard for 7 seconds, or skating hard for 45 seconds? Scoring a touchdown, or scoring a goal? It's obviously much more difficult for an NHL player to intentionally deflect a puck (measuring 3 inches in diameter) traveling through traffic at speeds near 100 mph into a fiercely protected net, than it is to avoid being tackled by a 300 pound defensive lineman, agile though he may be.

The predictable counter-arguments are that football players are stronger, bigger, etc. etc. etc, but these are simply subjective declarations that are emotionally based rather than statistically supported. My intellectual debate with the Alabamans quickly devolved into a war of words. I faced a losing battle.

Statistics, illustrations, and hypothetical comparisons were passionately thrown up for debate. While scouring the internet for data that would reinforce my supposition that hockey was harder than other sports, I came across an ESPN Page 2 article entitled Boxing's Knockout Punch (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/sportSkills). It was a goldmine of irrefutable evidence.

The article's purpose was to scientifically discover which sports required the most athleticism. Tests were performed relating to the categories of endurance, strength, power, speed, agility, flexibility, nerve, durability, hand-eye coordination, and analytic-aptitude. According to the column, the research was done by, "a group made up of sports scientists from the United States Olympic Committee, of academicians who study the science of muscles and movement, of a star two-sport athlete, and of journalists who spend their professional lives watching athletes succeed and fail."

The rankings are as follows: 1) Boxing 2) Hockey 3) Football 4) Basketball. The list classifies sixty various activities, pastimes, and sports. The only sport more difficult than hockey is boxing, but like the old adage says, "I once went to a fight and a hockey game broke out". Let's be honest, hockey can sometimes become boxing.

What do the results imply? Frankly, hockey is king. Hockey is tough mentally, physically, and emotionally. Not just anyone can put on a pair of skates and perform the triple-deke. It takes years of training and practice. Compared to other sports, the required skills and equipment are abnormally specialized. Imagine yourself playing basketball, soccer, football, and baseball with your friends. Anyone can go to a local park and participate in these activities, and even passers-by can easily assimilate themselves into the action if a player is needed.

But with hockey there is a difference It demands years of practice and patience. It can be argued that hockey is a regional sport requiring a specific climate, but even within hockey-obsessed communities the ratio of fans to players dramatically favors the fans. Take myself as an example, I love the sport, yet I can't skate. Most of my friends and family would claim hockey as their favorite sport, yet hardly any of us actually play the game. Why? Because skating is hard on the ankles, causes searing blisters, results in painful falls, and is often just plain embarrassing. Besides, shooting a free-throw is much easier to learn and a lot less stressful.

Hockey fans rejoice! Take pride in your passion for profanity and violence and flannel shirts. Who cares if the NHL playoff ratings tank again this year?! The satisfaction comes in knowing that hockey players are the best athletes of any major sport, and we'll drop the gloves if anyone suggests otherwise.

Playoff Predictions (and general musings)
Jon Adams

I have to say I was glad to see Stephen's passion for hockey. Personally, I think hockey would have greater success in America if people knew how hard it was to play. I think there is an appreciation most people can feel when they see Ryan Howard hit 50 or so homeruns, because most of us have tried to hit homeruns and we can't (except for that time I took my aluminum bat to the kids softball park. 220 down the line. I was a monster).

There should be a clinic in every American NHL city where people can go out there for a skills exhibition with some NHL players. Force some average joes to handle a puck while skating, make accurate passes, shoot on a goalie etc.

Here's why it would work. If you met me, and saw me play hockey, you'd think I'm really good. I skate fast, I have a hard shot, and I scored 30 goals in 25 games in my school's league this year. I know, you're impressed.

Thing is, I'm not impressed. Because I once had the privlege of playing shinny hockey (basically pick-up) with a fellow named Darryl Bootland. Darryl, an 8th round pick of the Colorado Avalanche in 2000, has spent the bulk of his professional career in the American Hockey League, where he once amassed 390 penalty minutes in one season. He also scored 27 goals that year, the most by far he has scored as a professional. In 32 career NHL games, Darryl has one goal and two assists. 3 points.

And he was INCREDIBLE. I can't express to you how much better he was than every person there. Better than anyone I've ever played with. People who, like myself, have been playing hockey their entire lives, and Darryl was heads and shoulders above all of us. And not only can he not break into the NHL, his job in the minors is to chuck the knuckles to earn his dough.

The guys in the NHL really are unbelievably talented, but it takes tackling that skill set to realize just how talented they really are.

Anyways. The NHL playoffs are the best time of year, almost like all the major holidays and celebrations rolled into one for me, though lacking the requisite spiritual engagement. Here's how I see the 2nd round shaking down.

PENGUINS 2 vs RANGERS 0

If you haven't seen Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin play hockey yet, than I don't know what to say to you. The Penguins are young, hungry and impressively disciplined, thanks to 41-year-old warrior Gary Roberts and Crosby's natural leadership. The Pens have yet to lose in the post-season, and if goalie Marc-Andre Fleury can stay true to form, the Pens have the edge over the New York Rangers. The only X-Factor? Rangers goalie Henrik Lundqvist is playing stellar hockey this year, and has thrice been nominated for the Vezina Trophy (best goalie). Fleury doesn't have to outshine Lundqvist, he just can't get dominated by him. Pens in 6 games.

CANADIENS 1 vs FLYERS 1

I'm torn here. Montreal has by far the best crowds in the NHL, and their young phenom goalie Carey Price is something to behold. However Philly plays that crash-and-bang style I've come to love so dearly over the years. Also, the Habs had the seasons top power play, and the Flyers finished second in that department. Whoever wins the battle of special teams will likely win the series. For that reason, I've got to go with my Canadian roots, and the ever-dangerous Alex Kovalev, and pick Montreal. Canadiens in 7.

RED WINGS 2 vs AVALANCHE 0

Due to the NHL's divisional schedule Detroit plays 32 games a year against marginal competition, so it's no surprise to anyone that they won the President's Trophy with the league's best record. What is surprising is that they have looked extremely sharp in the first two games against Colorado despite looking lackadaiscal against the Nashville Predators in the first round. The Avs need Forsberg back, and now, and they need Jose Theodore to steal the next two games if they have a hope. Could be too little, too late. Red Wings in 5.

STARS 1 vs SHARKS 1

Two hungry teams, two great goaltenders and two young defence cores. Two great power-plays, to stingy teams to play against and lots of stars with something to prove. I'm really pulling for the Sharks, as Joe Thornton continues to strive to show he has what it takes to carry a team in the playoffs, but the Stars are looking extremely hungry right now and just knocked off the defending champs. This series will likely come down to the goaltending battle of Marty Turco vs Evgeni Nabakov. I think Marty wants it more. Stars in 7.

Sure, there's the love of the game. I know what that's about. I trained for four years during my time on my school hockey team. I worked my you-know-what-off every time I was on the ice. We played for free, in front of thousands (okay hundreds. Okay sometimes less than hundreds. Mostly less than hundreds), because we love the game. But even still, we only had to play once a week, 25 games a season. These guys have training, practice, travel and games to boot. Why put yourself through that?

And then, on April 5th 2008, I experienced the answer to my question in person. And unquestionably, I understood.

This is the story of Trevor Linden.

Up here in Canada we have this amazing little tradition of about 60 or so years called Hockey Night in Canada. Every Saturday the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation picks two games, always involving two or more of our six Canadian teams, and plays them as a double-header. We even have our own version of Charles Barkley!

I grew up in Ontario which means that on Saturday night everybody in the known universe watched the Leafs play at 7 pm, and then went out and got wasted or played Parcheesi, or did whatever it is people do on Saturday night. Me, I always watched the second game of the double-header. This game always featured the Calgary Flames, Edmonton Oilers, or the Vancouver Canucks.

The Canucks were an entertaining team a number of years ago, featuring Markus Naslund and pre-punch Todd Bertuzzi (if you don't know what I'm referencing, youtube Todd Bertuzzi and Steve Moore) in their prime terrorizing opposing goaltenders. The Canucks had no goaltending and cared little for defense, generally choosing to play firewagon hockey and let it all hang out there, as they say. It didn't produce a Stanley Cup, but it was a fun team to watch.

Then I moved out to the Vancouver area for University and discovered that Canucks fans have a deep and passionate (and unwarranted) hatred for all things Toronto. The city, the people, and especially the Leafs. This prompted me to leave my vintage Canucks jersey at home, and develop a retalitory hatred for the team I once loved to watch.

Nontheless, NHL hockey is NHL hockey, and when my buddy Myles asked me if I wanted to go to the final regular season game I said yes without hesitation. The Canucks were playing the Calgary Flames after all, and Calgary has Canadian legend Jarome Iginla and powerhouse blue liner Dion Phaneuf. Plus it was a Hockey Night in Canada game.

What I didn't realize at the time is that it was also possibly the last game Trevor Linden would play in the NHL. What? You don't know who Trevor Linden is? Most people outside of Canada probably don't. But here in Vancouver he is a hero.

He's quiet. Stoic. You couldn't even describe his play as outstanding. People use words like reliable. Hard-working. Relentless. In fact, Linden never once scored more than 80 points in a season. He never scored more than 33 goals. He was far from a superstar.

Selected 2nd overall in 1988 (Mike Modano was 1st) Linden became an instant crowd favorite in Vancouver. What he is most revered for is his role in taking the Vancouver Canucks to the Stanley Cup Finals in 1994. Linden was a force in the playoffs, when the games mean the most, scoring 25 points in 24 games.

This video gives you a sense of what Linden meant to this city.

The Canucks were down 3-2 in the series to the New York Rangers and had to win at home to force Game 7 in New York. The game is winding down, and all the guy can talk about is how Linden got chopped down. He's barely able to get to the bench, and the guy in the booth calling the game knows Linden is going to play in Game 7. That's just the type of guy he is. He would have gone through a brick wall for this city and that's why they love him.

The picture at the end of the clip says everthing. Linden has been cut, there's blood all over his jersey, and the look on his face as he hugs goalie Kirk McLean tells you he has left his entire heart on the ice. The Canucks went on to lose Game 7 to the Rangers 3-2, with Linden scoring both Vancouver goals.

Myles summed up what Linden meant to Vancouver when he said to me, "it's weird that this could be his last game. It's like watching my entire childhood skating around out there."

In 1998 Linden was shuttled out to the New York Islanders, with Mark Messier taking his place as captain. From there he was moved to Montreal, and then Washington and it was becoming clear his best days were behind him.

But after several injury-plagued seasons with those teams Linden was traded back to Vancouver and he gladly adapted a new role. He was no longer captain, that distinction was given to Markus Naslund, but he was a mentor to a young team, a leader on the ice and a reliable player who played his best when the stakes were the highest.

That brings us to this year. Linden was a healthy scratch 23 times this season, an indication that he was slowing down. But he never complained, worked his hardest, swallowed his pride and did what was asked of him. Never once did he complain about practice (practice? Are we talking 'bout practice?). With two weeks left in the season the Canucks were facing a must win game against Calgary. If they lost they would have been virtually eliminated from the playoffs. Linden was inserted into the line-up and scored two goals. The Canucks won and kept hope alive. He showed he could still find a way.

By the time the last game of the regular season rolled around the Canucks had been mathematically eliminated from the playoffs. The game itself meant nothing, other than a chance to witness Linden's swan song. There was speculation before the game that it would be Linden's last, fueled by Canucks coach Alain Vigneault playing Linden on the top line with the heralded (though I'm not sure why) Sedin twins.

For a meaningless game there was still an undeniable buzz. I must have seen a thousand people wearing Linden jerseys. He looked nervous early, set-up a few times by the Sedin's but fanning on several attempts. He failed to score in his final game, but in the end, it wouldn't matter.

Linden's line was getting ready to start the third period. Both teams were lined up at centre ice waiting for the tv commerical on CBC to end. Unbeknownst to him he was put up on the big screen and everyone began cheering. I was eating a hot dog. After 30 seconds everyone was giving him a standing ovation and the other players realized what was going on. By now I had finished the hot dog and stood to pay my respects. All 9 other players and the 4 officials moved off to the side, and Linden finally acknowledged the crowd for what was a few minutes.

The game ended 7-1, and here's a little clip of what I experienced. The footage is grainy, but I think it's a good idea of how powerful the moment is. WARNING: About 3:15, the girl filming mentions that the final score was 7-1, and the gentlemen utters a profanity. Stop watching around 3:00 if you are one who is offended by such things.

The whole thing was indescribably powerful. The way Jarome Iginla and some other Flames stayed to shake his hand. Iginla actually called some other teammates out of the tunnel to pay their respects. The way the other Canuck players stood off to the side and simply soaked it all in. The way the crowd, who had been cheering for about 3 minutes before this clip started, goes up another octave a few minutes in.

This was only one of what was eventually FOUR standing ovations. Here's a brief clip of the longest and loudest one, when Linden was named the game's first star.

I don't know how he didn't cry, but he held it together. I was getting chills and I wasn't even a fan of his. I respected all he had done, but felt no personal attachment to him. All I could think about, over and over, is how he must have felt that it was all worth it. All the years where he was giving everything he had and being criticized. When he was disrespected and traded, floundering around with other teams, battling injuries, returning to a lessened role and finally being a healthy scratch 23 times this season. All the hours training, practicing--doubting whether or not he still had it--it was worth it on April 5th, 2008.

In an era where sports gets more attention for all the negative things that happen, I know I was able to witness something truly special: Trevor Linden, in all his glory. The fans poured their appreciation on to him, and through the magnitude of their voices the message was clear. Thank you, Trevor.

It was so powerful I wanted to watch the late night replay of the game on CBC to see how it looked on television. And as Jarome Iginla, one of the NHL's best players, came out to shake Linden's hand CBC play-by-play man Jim Hughson summed up the game I love in the light its meant to be understood in.

"It's about intensity; but it's also about respect."

My son Parker has been obsessed with sports since he was four years old. I'm sure I am mostly to blame. Like most preschool-aged boys, his attention span in almost any situation lasts about as long as it takes to microwave a bag of popcorn. Sit still through an entire meal? No chance. We consider it a success if he makes it through the blessing without getting distracted.

Something changes, however, when he watches sports. Flip on a game and suddenly he's as focused as Tiger Woods on the Sunday back nine.

On the other hand, my six-year-old daughter Kylie, has never shown an affinity for sports. Given the option of watching ESPN or getting booster shots, she'd need some time to think about it. Imagine our surprise, then, when we asked her if she was interested in playing soccer and she said "yes". Though we knew her eagerness to play had everything to do with socializing and nothing to do with wanting to be the next Brandi Chastain (keep that shirt on), we jumped at the chance to get her involved.

Unlike the team's incumbent players, Kylie had no idea what she was doing. Having never seen a soccer game on television, the flow of the game was a mystery to her. Coaching instructions like "Get back on defense" and "turn it up field" could have been shouted in English or Pig Latin - either way they meant nothing to her.

But she wasn't the only person coming in to the season without experience. I was a rookie, and her first soccer season also marked my first time as a sports parent. While she was on the pitch learning the difference between offense and defense, I was navigating the confusing emotions that come from watching your child compete against other people's kids. The need to protect her, the drive to help her improve, and the desire to see her succeed all took on a new meaning. Previously harmless playmates morphed into little menaces intent on stealing the ball, and the joy, away from my little girl. It didn't take all of my willpower to stop from tripping the first-grader who was trying to take the ball from Kylie; I know better. But, the thought did occur to me.

I never intended to be one of those parents coaching from the bleachers, but during her first scrimmage, that's exactly what happened. Kylie seemed to be enjoying herself on the field, but she was never where she was supposed to be. Worse, she had no interest in taking the ball from the opposing team. As a parent, I would generally encourage such a strong aversion to stealing, but soccer without stealing is like running a business without taking money from your customers. It doesn't work. I spent most of the first half yelling from the sideline. "KYLIE, GO GET THE BALL!"..."KYLIE GET BACK ON DEFENSE!"..."KYLIE, DONT BE AFRAID TO GRAB THAT LITTLE PUNK'S JERSEY AND TRIP HIM THE NEXT TIME HE GETS BY YOU!" I was like a younger - but much better looking - Lou Piniella. My voice was almost gone by halftime.

At the end of the scrimmage I introduced myself to Kylie's coach and asked him if he had a problem with me 'coaching' my daughter from the sidelines. "It's your kid," he told me, "as long as you're not contradicting what I'm saying, you can do whatever you want."
I couldn't stop thinking about his comments as we drove home that night. She's my kid. I'm her dad. These weren't new concepts to me, of course, but it seemed like I had forgotten them when Kylie was playing. The more I thought about my actions, the more disappointed I became in myself. Did I really spend 40 minutes screaming coaching tips at my daughter during an exhibition game? If this was how I acted during a practice, how would I act during a real game?

I did some quick math. Between Kylie and Parker, I had another 12 to 15 years of sideline parenting in my future. At my current pace, I was about eight months from a lifetime youth soccer ban. I closed my eyes to clear the thought from my head, but it was replaced by the image of a front-page headline on CNN.com: "Out of Control Soccer Parent Tasered in Neck". Not wanting to be the next YouTube celebrity for getting assaulted by the local sheriff, I knew I needed to make a change.

At Kylie's next practice I tried a different approach: I sat there and kept my mouth shut. When she ran away from the ball in fear, I said nothing. When she roamed the field aimlessly like an Israelite wandering in the desert, I said nothing. When she forgot she was on defense, costing her team a goal, I said nothing. The only coaching tips I offered were given quietly on the sidelines. Kylie didn't seem to miss my previous coaching style, and it seemed like was more receptive to the advice her coach was giving her on the field. Driving home that evening I noticed that my mind, and my throat, felt better than the week before. I was convinced I had learned a valuable lesson: as a parent watching your kids play sports, there's never a need to yell.

***

Kylie's first soccer season turned out to be a lot of fun. She was still afraid to steal the ball at season's end, but made noticeable improvement every week. As a bonus, I now know I can strike "no shoplifting" from my future parenting points. I'm proud to say I made it through the season without being tasered or even embarrassing myself on the sidelines.

In fact, I can only recall only one incident where I did get a little out of control. It was the last game of the regular season and Kylie was playing center forward. Her team was advancing the ball when Kylie caught a pass. She kicked the ball towards the goal, and as it made its way to the net, I noticed saw one of her teammates squaring it up. He was going to score instead of her! For a second I thought about screaming his name to distract him, but the vision of a mustachioed sheriff reaching for his taser kept my lips sealed.

The punk threatening to steal Kylie's goal cocked his leg as the ball approached and unleashed a huge kick. The thing is, he missed the ball. He completely whiffed. And the ball kept rolling...and rolling...until it rolled right into the net. She scored! It was her first and only goal of the season.

With tears in my eyes I jumped to my feet and cheered wildly. Kylie's coach, knowing how far she had come since the beginning of the year, yelled over to us. "I have chills!" he said, pointing to his arms.

As I screamed and clapped for my daughter, I realized the lesson I learned after her first practice wasn't true at all. Sometimes when you're watching your kids play sports, you just have to yell.

Quebec has also produced some of the NHL's finest hockey players; Mario Lemieux, Guy Lafleur, Jean Beliveau, Maurice Richard and Vincent Lecavalier off the top of my head, and they always have the best goalies. Patrick Roy, Martin Brodeur, and Roberto Luongo all hail from La Belle Province.

But for all the good that Quebec hath brought us, they've done some weird stuff too. In 1995 they tried to separate from Canada, staging a referendum in an attempt to become their own country. They felt they weren't getting enough respect, but the vote lost narrowly and Quebec remained a part of Canada.

Last April Canada sent a team of NHL players to the World Championships in Moscow, captained by Phoenix Coyotes forward Shane Doan. Doan was accused of uttering a discriminatory remark about a French player during a game, and the government of Quebec wanted him removed from the team (Doan was absolved of uttering any such slur after a league investigation).

Now, Quebec is at it again. This time, instead of trying to separate from Canada, the government in Quebec is attempting to do something much, much worse.

The Quebec minister of sport, Michelle Courchesne, has called for a committee to be formed in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League (QMJHL) to ban fighting in Junior hockey.

To give you some background (because some of you may be wondering what Major Junior hockey is), the QMJHL, is a branch of the Canadian Hockey League, which features three leagues (Western Hockey League, Ontario Hockey League) spanning the country. Players are between the ages of 16-20, and are generally the best players in this age group. Many are drafted into the NHL at the age of 18, and turn professional after their stint in Major Junior. Players of this age group come from all over the world, because the CHL is the considered the best preparation for the NHL game.

The fighting debate was sparked because of this:

Jonathan Roy, back-up goalie for the Quebec Remparts and son of NHL legend Patrick Roy (who coaches the Remparts), went ballistic on Chicoutimi Sagueneens goalie Bobby Nadeau during a brawl that broke out at the end of a playoff game. Roy also shows his classy side as he then flips the bird to the crowd, all in the course of a 10-1 QMJHL loss. Jonathan was suspended 7 playoff games, Patrick was given 5 (accused of signaling his son down the ice to attack Nadeau), and the guy fighting Roy at the end was given a 6-game suspension, 5 of those games because he came out of the penalty box to defend his goalie. I won't weigh on the suspensions, because this column would get extremely long.

The clip is pretty surreal. Starting with the title 'Jonathan Roy, Son of Patrick, Destroys Bobby Nadeau. The general unruliness, Jon Roy giving the whole crowd the finger, Patrick Roy covering his head as he goes off the ice, the French voice over...the whole clip has a strange feel to it.

This is a high calibre of hockey we're talking about. This is not Slapshot. These are talented young men who live and breathe a certain culture; a culture that sometimes leaves us with situations like the video above.

My knee-jerk reaction is to think that banning fighting is ridiculous. I wrote a column for the BWC a while back that mentioned why I think fighting in hockey is awesome, and I showed a video in a column about a month ago that celebrated Toronto Maple Leaf great Wendel Clark for pummeling various people on a nightly basis throughout his career. (Ed. note: Here it is again. With an awesome Metallica soundtrack.)

You see, I grew up with hockey, and thus I grew up with fighting. The true pugilist was celebrated as the epitomy of respect and toughness. It was normal for me to watch two guys on skates try to punch each other, providing that it was for something noble, like defending a teammate who had been suckered or trying to inspire the troops.

But that being said, there's undoubtedly something wrong about what happened in that game. Jonathan Roy's actions are unexplicable, and Patrick, as the coach, should be held accountable. Fighting in hockey is supposed to be about honor, bravery, toughness and, of course, the code. The code holds, among other things, that you never pummel someone who doesn't want to fight. If your counterpart is pinned down on the ice, you don't procede to punch his face in while he tries desperately to cover himself.

I recently sat down to interview the woman's basketball coach at my university, and before the interview started, we somehow got to talking about hockey. He said that he didn't watch much, because he grew up in the States, and remembered watching Wayne Gretzky break Gordie Howe's all-time goals record. Then he said something that stunned me; he doesn't let his kids watch hockey because it's too violent.

I have to admit I was a little shocked. Up here we usually pray that our young will enjoy watching the game, I would't think twice about letting kids watch the game. Nor would I, come to think of it, think twice about letting my kids fight. I remember teaching my cousin how to stick up for himself so he didn't get pushed around out there. He was 6.

I was especially surprised because the American Flagship, the NFL, is similarly violent to hockey. Both games feature body contact that is impossible to comprehend, both take a great deal of courage to play. In one game though, you are allowed to let out your frustrations a little more than the other. If need be, you can drop your gloves with a willing combatant and let out some of the intensity and frustration that builds up with competition of this nature.

Until talking to Coach Court (great name for a basketball coach) I had never considered abnormal to fight. Say what you will about the Jonathan Roy incident; there are similar events in all sports. Baseball has bench-clearing brawls and the Delmon Young bat-throwing incident. Football had the Haynesworth stomp, the NBA had the Carmelo/Little Fiddy incident, and the Malice at the Palace. Soccer has its riots and murdering of players and officials alike.

Essentially, what I'm saying is, there is a good and bad to everything. The good part about fighting in hockey is that it demands accountability amongst the players. You can't just go out and do whatever you want; you have to respect your opponent, lest you get beaten by a giant man who makes millions of dollars because he can fight on skates. But occasionally, because of pride, because of an inherent hockey dictum that leads to brawls whenever a team is getting badly beaten, things get out of hand. If you can't beat 'em in the rink, beat 'em in the back alley, goes the expression.

I don't think that they'll take fighting out of hockey, and I don't think they should. But I have to admit that talking to the Coach got me thinking that not everyone sees it as cut-and-dry as I do.

So I bring the debate to you America: Should there be fighting in hockey? Is it true bravery or phony bravado?

Discuss.

Of course, this weekend also marks several occasions of relevance in the sporting world, and I've got thoughts on all of them.

NCAA TOURNAMENT

After a slow Thursday of tournament action, things finally seemed primed to explode with the much-hyped USC vs Kansas State match-up. According to highlight packages I saw throughout the year Michael Beasley has yet to miss a shot in his outstanding freshman year. That explains the absurd averages of 26 and 12. Of course, OJ Mayo is no slouch either, though members of the media led me to believe that he is just as likely to jack my car as he is to jack up threes, which according to them is often. Aside from the probably (I say probably because I actually don't know him personally) unwarranted criticism, Mayo is having a nice year as well, averaging 20, 5 and 4, or something thereabouts, and I was excited to see these two go at it.

Of course, these games can't possibly live up to the hype, and the first half was a dud. Beas was in foul trouble, though in the second half he dominated enough to make us forget about that Kevin Durant guy. Bill Walker, Beasley's sidekick and former high school teammate of Mayo carried the load in the first half and Mayo had a quiet 20 points.

On Saturday Duke lost, which probably made outside of Duke pretty happy, with the notable exception of Dick Vitale. They nearly lost it in the first round to Belmont, which got me wondering; how many more early exits before they revoke 'Coach K's court'.

Pretty cool how all the lower seeds advanced in the Tampa Region. First time in NCAA Tournament history. Western Kentucky advanced on an implausible three point shot at the buzzer in OT, San Diego won at the buzzer in OT as well, Siena and Villanova completed their upsets.

All of which leads me to my bracket, which has humbled me in ways I never even thought possible. My picks blew a tire early, with Arizona going out to West Virginia (never pick the team you cheer for - unless they're good - which mine was not) and Winthrop failing to advance over Washington State. What can I say? I like to cheer against boring teams.

Things got much worse when Siena beat Vanderbilt, who I had going to the Elite Eight for no reason other than a hunch (shows you what that gets you), and I never should have believed all those 'experts' who told me to pick Drake. Apparently, Drake reads their own press, but didn't read enough press about Western Kentucky.

My buddy Scott picked all favourites, which is no surprise because he actually cheers against underdogs, and after Thursday I'm not sure what made me more mad; the fact that he picked only the higher seeds, or the fact that he was right on every pick except one (USC/K-State). He got his on Friday though, and has now fallen from the top of our group to second place.

I still have my Final Four in play, they read as follows; Georgetown, North Carolina, UCLA, and Memphis, but I'm thinking I should have changed Memphis to Stanford now. UCLA is likely to win it all; they've got the best combination of dominant backcourt guards and dominant inside play. Kevin Love is better than I thought he would be, furthering the depth of this coming draft.

NHL PLAYOFFS

We are only a few weeks away from my favorite time of the year, the Stanley Cup Playoffs. Right now the Toronto Maple Leafs are 4 points out of the last playoff spot with 6 games to play, and two of those games come against the team in seventh, who also has a 4 point advantage over us. I never did end up cheering for the team to lose, though if we miss the playoffs, I'll wish we had.

The Detroit Red Wings and Ottawa Senators started the season on fire but have since regressed, while Montreal, San Jose, Pittsburgh, Anaheim and New Jersey all have surged from slow starts and are now the teams to beat. If you're a betting man (or woman-- Janet Gretzky, I know you read this) I'd take San Jose or Anaheim. In Montreal doesn't play the physical style you need to win in the playoffs, Pittsburgh has goaltending questions and New Jersey boggles my mind. I wouldn't bet against Martin Brodeur, but it's hard to see that team beating the Anaheim Ducks.

Since San Jose traded for Brian Campbell they've won 13 of 15 games, and haven't lost in regulation in their last 10 (9-0-1). Teams that get hot before the playoffs usually stay hot, lending us the old cliche about teams, "peaking at the right time." Think Edmonton Oilers of two years ago, only bigger, stronger, faster and better in goal. But without Chris Pronger, who happens to play for the other powerhouse the Anaheim Ducks. The Ducks could win it all again as well, with possibly the league's best defense, although they may have to play San Jose before the Western Conference Final, which would leave both teams black and blue. That series would be the best to watch in the entire playoffs, and even if you don't love hockey you should tune in to watch these two teams attempt to see who can withstand inhuman amounts of physical punishment in the name of sporting glory.

However before I merely hand the Stanley Cup to one of those teams, we can't forget that a certain Sidney Crosby is coming back from injury and will certainly well rested, after missing more than 20 games with a high ankle sprain. Add Crosby to the mix with Malkin and Marian Hossa and the Penguins are guaranteed to score goals and win games.

MAJOR LEAGUE BASEBALL

I can't wait for Baseball season. Thursday, during the stretch of games when there was nothing interesting happening, I watched the Cubs battle the Rockies from Tucson, Arizona. Nothing like a little Spring Training excitement!

I'm warning you now, America; look out for the Blue Jays this year. Last year we had injuries to just about everyone except Alex Rios and Frank Thomas, and off-years from everyone from Vernon Wells to Frank Thomas. V-Dub (sorry Jordan, that's what we call him up here) will have a great year now that his shoulder is healthy, Rios, Thomas, Overbay and Rolen should contribute solid power numbers and Eckstein will be free to slap singles and run around like the energetic high schooler that he is.

It gets better. Dustin McGowan is starting to look like a future ace, and Shaun Marcum showed that he could throw better than .500 baseball this season. Roy Halladay is Roy Halladay and if AJ Burnett decides that he actually wants to play baseball, we could have a very good 4-man rotation. We're not the Detroit Tigers, but we'll have some arms. BJ Ryan needs to get healthy, if only because we pay him an obscene amount of money.

Also, I'm pulling for the Mets. My buddy Cal-State lived in Queens for a bit, and he loves the Mets. Now, Cal-State is one of those guys that just can't catch a break, and the last few seasons of Mets baseball have only added to his woes. Now that they have Santana, there's a little spark in his voice, and I think we should all join together and hope that Cal State catches a break, and the Mets go to the World Series.

Where they can promptly lose to the Blue Jays. Sorry Cal.

Happy Easter.

Every expert and his next-door neighbor has tournament predictions, and those guys are always wrong. Therefore, I'm skipping hypotheticals and proceeding directly to the events I know will occur. If Vegas had odds on these, I'd be a rich man. In fact, I could have skipped the entire regular season and still be able to tell you, with conviction, the following information regarding March Madness '08:

Arizona: We'll hear a whole lot about the infallible and absent Lute Olsen, who happens to be the Joe Paterno of college basketball, and his late wife Bobbi (has there ever been a more oddly named couple?). We'll also hear a lot about the clearly fallible Wildcats, who always seem to lose a round too early. Except when they lose two rounds too early.

Washington, Washington State, Oregon, Oregon State: They seem kinda good, I guess. You know, East Coast bias and late games and all. Well, one of these teams might make it to the Final Four. Or not, I'm not really sure. Wait, is that a duck on the sideline?

Kentucky: The Wildcats are the winningest program in college basketball history; as such, they should put up a good fight in the tournament. They'll lose a close game somewhere in the vicinity of the Elite Eight, likely due to a couple of ill-advised and impulsive jump shots from a Kentucky point guard. This will be followed by two things: a coach screaming on the sidelines, and Christian Laettner footage.

Maryland: More screaming coach footage, except it will be supplemented by sweating coach footage. Thanks to playing in the ACC, the Terps will claim strength of schedule as their ticket to the tournament. Strength of schedule does not translate into winning games, however, and Maryland will prove it by going home after the first weekend.

Duke: Will enter the tournament as the tacit favorite, even if they're a five seed. Will not lose early, so don't even think about picking an upset. Will feature a big guy who doesn't show emotion (see: Battier, Shane and Brand, Elton) and a small guy who takes long shots (Langdon, Trajan, and Duhon, Chris). Will be raved about by Dickie V regardless of how well they play.

North Carolina: Will enter as the alternate favorite. They'll play fast and loose, and they'll win by wearing out the opposing team. Will destroy the winner of the play-in game by thirty-five points. If the Tar Heels face Duke at any point in the tournament, Dickie V automatically explodes.

Gonzaga: The Zags will attract attention no matter where they're seeded or who they play. They won't lose by more than five points. They'll never be able to replicate the success of the late 90s, but they'll always come close. Note to tourney aficionados: The statute of limitations on including "Gonzaga" and "Cinderella" in the same sentence expired years ago.

Notre Dame: Will feature several three-point shooters with WASPish names.

Texas: Will cause you to adjust the contrast on your TV ("What's wrong with this thing? Those uniforms look like the color of vomit").

Pittsburgh: Will not live up to expectations. (Better ask Georgetown about Pitt expectations--Ed.)

Syracuse: Will feature inexperienced forwards losing games in which the 'Cuse was favored (except when said inexperienced forwards win the national championship). Cameras will catch Jim Boeheim with a "did-you-just-step-on-my-cat" expression on his face ten times per game.

Connecticut: Will be one of the toughest teams in the tournament. Perhaps the best way to beat the Huskies is to call their sister a terrorist, then shoot the technical fouls.

Kansas: Although similar to UConn, the Jayhawks don't have the Huskies' fierceness. Or level of excitement, for that matter. As such, Kansas will win a few boring games and then lose a boring game, but it won't matter to anyone outside the state of Kansas.

Memphis: The Oracle at Calipari, practically infallible during the regular season, will run out of answers in a dramatic fashion.

Drake, Creighton, Northern Iowa, Wichita State: One of these teams from the Missouri Valley Conference will last much longer than their seed dictates. The rest will go home after one game.

Wisconsin: Will feature a number of big men who apparently have not seen the sunlight in years. Will play like they've been given a narcotic, but will still manage to make opposing teams look awful.

NC State: Will be awarded a tournament berth solely on the strength of Derek Whittenburg's 1983 miracle.

Mississippi State, Georgia, Louisiana State, Florida: Seeing how each team has made it to the Final Four in recent memory, they'll somehow prove that the SEC (with the exception of Kentucky) is perenially underrated.

UTEP, UAB, TCU, IUPUI: Will make some amateur bracketeer immensely happy if the team pulls off an upset; the bracketeer will have mistakenly picked them thinking the acronym stood for something else.

And there you have it. The million-dollar bracket challenge is practically in my pocket.

P.S: North Carolina over Georgetown for the championship.

Charles is right. He shouldn't have to raise our kids. But there's one problem with Barkley's logic; the kids are watching.

The interesting thing about our society is that we have used it to create heroes. We exalt those who achieve greatness in athletics above all else in our social circles. I realize that not everyone holds sport in high esteem, but this is a sports column, so I'll address the folks that do follow our games. But we do this. We take a man (or woman) and we measure his accomplishments, statistics, and abilities against those of his peers to determine his worth in society.

Bryan Allain made a good point when he told me that we laud athletes because they excel in the games we love to play. In a sense they live out our dreams, we live vicariously through them, and we don't like it when they do something boneheaded to screw it up. We can't relate to a rocket scientist or nuclear physicist. But we can relate to the players that have immeasurable God-given ability in the games we love.

So Charles Barkley is a role model. Roger Clemens was one too. Michael Jordan, Tiger Woods, Wayne Gretzky, Tom Brady, Peyton Manning, LeBron James, Kobe Bryant--all in the same boat. The list of megastars is endless, and we elevated these fine athletes as the pinnacle of success in our time.

We like to believe we want our sports heroes to be squeaky clean. We want athletes who have other-worldly abilities, but also are nice, decent people, devoid of any vices or unsavory characteristics. We take their achievements and make them among the most celebrated aspects of North American existence. If you're good enough, all is forgiveable (see: Bryant, Kobe), or at least forgotten for a time.

In light of all the events in the past few years, I've been wanting to write something on the morality of sport. Words like scandal have been used inexhaustibly over the past few years as many of our favorite ahtletes seem to have trouble using their moral compass.

The reason I've had a hard time writing on it is three-fold; first, I'm not exactly a perfect moral citizen myself, and so would feel strange writing a chastistment on others. Second, I love sports and the greats who play the game, and finally I'm really not that surprised. Athletes are imperfect? Welcome to the club.

We know the basic elements of fall doctrine, we know men are not perfect, yet we're shocked when athletes stretch the limits of ethics to get to the top of their respective profession. A dangerous combination of humanness and insecurity that leaves us with a desire for especially noteworthy accomplishments.

And so we see the same trends in sport that we experience in everyday life. The meteoric rise and fall of Enron is an example. The weaknesses that drive CEO's to cook their books and lie to investors are the same ones that drive men like Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds. We want power, recognition, respect, and riches and will do unconscionable things to get it.

These desires almost always end in shame. Like most sin, most immoral behavior, there is not a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Athletes, like all of us, are trying to make sense of the world we all live in, only they're doing it with a camera on them 24/7. A-Rod is not the first married guy to go to a strip-club, it is simply more notable when he does, because he is supposed to be a hero. He is in the public eye, something we want him to realize is a privilege, something he should desperately not want to risk. Patrick Roy and Jason Kidd were not the first husbands to have a domestic altercation with their wives, but we hear a lot more about it because of who they are.

I'm not condoning this behavior. Far from it. If anything I think it should remind us all of how we are, that we're all imperfect and need to remain humble. I catch myself judging athletes, and when I realize it, I can't even begin to give a good reason.

We love to build these guys up, put them on a pedastal and idolize them as heroes, but maybe even more we love to haul them down and drag them through the mud when we're done showering them with accolades. It is the ultimate 'what have you done for me lately?' mentality. I think we love to praise these guys for their accomplishments that make them 'better' than the average joe, but we love even more to reveal them for who they really are and revel in how their mistakes are much greater than our own.

There is a formula that I've noticed takes place with professional athletes in our era. I wrote a bit last year about Sidney Crosby that was kind of along these lines, but for the sake of this example I'll use O.J. Mayo. Mayo, touted as 14-year-old, begins to get rave reviews as the 'next one'. He goes to high school and plays well, continues to heap in the praise and everyone salivates over the kid who they said would come to the NBA and be better than LeBron. Sounds ridiculous now, but it's what they wanted to believe. Then our subject begins to get into some trouble, show signs of a slight attitude problem and we discover that the cycle of praise is complete; it is time for the cycle of scrutiny. We then begin to tear the young man down, pick him apart, realize he's not as good as LeBron and accuse him of not achieving his potential, which ironically was a potential we cast on him before he could drive a car. Mayo is playing well in college (20.7 pts, 4.6 reb, 3.1 asts) but he's not averaging 35 per game and so we tear him apart.

The cycle eventually comes to an end, it did for Kobe and Crosby and even now Eli Manning, and if the player can endure he's likely no worse for the wear. But it symbolizes what we love to do with athletes. We elevate them to a level that leaves them no where to go but down, and we send them upon the first appearance of their humanity.

Even now I wonder what this all means. Some say that this kind of attention, negative or otherwise, comes with the territory, and they're likely right. But it is true that these men are role models, they're in the public eye and they should act responsibly. But that's also the mantra for politicians, and we know how they can be (another article for another time).

From a spiritual standpoint this all seems fairly easy to peg. We're not perfect and neither are athletes. We are searching and so are they. If anything, this shows us that all the admiration, money, and achievement doesn't bring the euphoria we assume it does. Their mistakes are not any different from our own, they simply occur on a grander stage, with greater magnitude.

Because of this moral issues in sport will never go away. They'll stay role models, they'll make mistakes, we'll cringe and sigh and shake our heads. For every great moment, there will be another to bring us down.

But at the end of it all, Charles will be proven right. He probably shouldn't raise our kids.

While the Hollywood-esque steroid circus continues to play itself out, one problem will receive little to no publicity whatsoever. Official reviews via replay, the controversial issue which may widely affect baseball's future, may be best addressed by looking back at it's past.

Last October, the Colorado Rockies and the San Diego Padres participated in the most outrageous MLB contest of the entire 2007 season. It was a tie-breaking winner-take-all game that would decide which team would earn the National League wildcard. The nationally televised game quickly transformed into an epic fall classic, and even as a neutral observer (the Minnesota Twins didn't make the playoffs) I was sucked into the action.

Prior to the game, the Rockies achieved the implausible by winning 13 of their last 14 regular season contests, cutting the Padres' vast wildcard lead down to nothing. The Rockies suddenly became a hard-hitting scoring machine, driven by young players that seemed oblivious to their underdog status. Meanwhile, the Padres had earned their success with a stellar pitching staff that boasted the league's lowest E.R.A.

As the game progressed, the Coors Field faithful relentlessly pushed their Rockies through a tumultuous volley of heart-wrenching let-downs, ecstatic rallies, and unbelievable surprises. It seemed more like a cheesy made-for-tv sports (Angels in the Outfield or Rookie of the Year? -ed) movie than a play-in playoff baseball game. Eventually, the game came down to the now-infamous 13th inning. Up two runs, a mere three outs away from the playoffs, the Padres put the ball in the trusted hands of Trevor Hoffman, MLB's all-time saves leader. Seemed like game over.

Then, similar to the preceding twelve innings, the unimaginable took place. An unshakeable pitcher faltered, immediately allowing two doubles, a triple, and an intentional walk, all of which erased the two run lead. With the score tied, the Rockies had MVP candidate Matt Holliday on third base representing the winning run, and little known Jamey Carroll at the dish with a chance (albeit a slim one) at earning immortality among Rockies fans.

The entire stadium, along with the television and radio audience, held its collective breath as Carroll hit a fly ball to right field. Everyone awaited the inevitable play-at-the-plate. Brian Giles caught the ball and Holliday sprinted towards home. Giles threw a perfect strike to catcher Michael Barrett that arrived a split-second before Holliday's head-first dive, but the crushing impact of the collision between Holliday and Barrett jarred the ball free. Safe! The game was over, the Rockies won.

Of course, mayhem ensued. The Colorado bench rushed onto the field, mobbing Holliday at the plate as the crowd erupted with celebration.

Then came the replay.

It appeared that Holliday never actually touched home plate. Was the entire game was a fallacy? What's the point of playing 13 nail-biting innings only to have the game decided by a faulty call? The replays aired constantly over following days, while sports talk-shows and newspaper editorials buzzed off of the controversial umpiring.

Replays also confirmed that a ball hit by Colorado's Garrett Atkins during the seventh inning, initially ruled a double, was actually a home-run. Bad calls made by umpires during a game of this magnitude brought up a significant question: Why aren't replays implemented within baseball's officiating system?

What would baseball be like with a replay system like the one currently used in the NFL? I immediately think of Steve Bartman, and the even more pitiful Chicago Cubs during the 2003 National League Championship Series. Chuck Knoblauch's notorious "phantom tag" against Jose Offerman in the 1999 American League Championship Series is another moment where missed calls played a crucial role during a pivotal moments.

The list goes on: Derek Jeter's "home-run" that was caught by the outstretched (over the field) arm of twelve-year-old Jeff Maier in game one of the 1996 ALCS. Kent Hrbek's "lift-tag" (as in "lifted off of first base") of Ron Gant in the 1991 World Series. A.J. Pierzynski's run to first base during the 2005 ALCS. I'm sure you could add your team's moments of infamy, where a bad call cost them the game (or the season). We've all felt the searing injustice and have screamed at the television in frustration. How many umpires have I cursed for being incredibly stupid and completely blind? Too many to count.

So why isn't there replay in baseball? The argument has been made that "the integrity of the game" will be tarnished, and that the human element that comes with umpires adds a level of interest and authenticity not found in other sports.

To both arguments only one word needs to be said: steroids. Since when has baseball or it's fans been worried about integrity? Baseball's television ratings for 2007 spiked dramatically due to people's interest in the never-ending steroids scandals that plagued the season. Baseball's integrity is all but gone, but at least replays can help restore some of its tarnished reputation by accurately managing the action happening on the field.

Others suggest that a replay-system will put added pressure on the umpires, and make them vulnerable to unwanted criticism and scrutiny. Similar suggestions were made when the NFL declared that it was incorporating a replay system. Ironically, replays have taken less pressure off of NFL officials and put more pressure on NFL coaches. Instead of berating an official because of a missed call, crowds and media now target coaches for bad replay management.

Replays create an extra element of in-game drama and excitement that allows viewers to watch action slow motion sequences from a variety of camera angles. For those playing the game and for those watching, the satisfaction comes in having fair, honest, and accurate in-game officiating. Replays allow that to happen.

The game of baseball inherently consists of many high-speed bursts of action and reaction, the results of which are determined by mere milliseconds. A play at the plate. A batter beating out a throw to first. A runner stealing second. A tag. A sharp line-drive foul ball. A diving catch. A home-run. A catcher dropping a called third strike. There are too many plays that are too hard to judge with the naked eye, and these plays can often mean the difference between losing and winning the game, the playoffs, or the World Series (or a fantasy league!).

Baseball has nothing to lose. The NFL (which according to an ESPN survey is currently America's most popular professional league) isn't the only institution that has successfully implemented some form of replay within their officiating. The NBA, the NHL, NASCAR, and even professional tennis have all jumped on board. Whether umpire-unions like it or not, the precedent has been set, and baseball needs to join the 21rst century.

The thing is, Toronto is only 7 points out of a playoff spot. With 19 games to play, this is not an insurmountable obstacle. To make matters more complicated, the NHL's trade deadline set for this Tuesday the Boys in Blue must decide now if they'll go for that coveted playoff spot, or trade away aging (and in the case of Mats Sundin, beloved) talent for youthful prospects and draft picks, which is to say, to trade them for hope.

Making the playoffs would benefit the Leafs financially, but the odds of winning the Cup would be slim. This would mean they'd finish out of the lottery, and be subject to a potentially mediocre draft pick in a draft year when the lottery has a handful of great prospects.

All these factors lead me to new territory as a diehard fan. Even in the last few years, when things have been a little bleak, I never considered this to be an option. The Sports Guy was in similar territory a while back and he coined the phrase that I will now address: Fantanking.

Simply put, this idea requires me to cheer for my team to lose. I know, it sounds horrible, but maybe it's not as bad as it first seems. By cheering for the Leafs to lose now, I would be helping secure a blue-chip prospect, and thus becoming an advocate for success in the future.

In the meantime I would come across as one who abandons ship during a team crisis. But we've got to plan ahead, isn't a lack of planning (and several nightmarish front office decisions) what landed us in this mess?

Of course, tanking is not a fool-proof plan. Many teams have been selecting in the lottery for years and have not built winning teams around high draft picks. The Atlanta Hawks come to mind, even though now it looks like they're starting to turn it around, they mired in mediocrity for years, also due to several horrible front office decisions (read: Chris Paul vs Marvin Williams).

In hockey however the lottery seems to pay out. The Tampa Bay Lightning picked Vincent Lecavalier 1st overall in 1998, and they won the Stanley Cup in 2004. The Carolina Hurricans selected Eric Staal 2nd overall in 2003 and they won the Stanley Cup in 2006, with Staal leading the team in points in the playoffs.

The Pittsuburgh Penguins, since 2002, have selected defenseman Ryan Whitney (5th overall '02), goalie Marc-Andre Fleury (1st overall '03), current NHL points leader Evgeni Malkin (2nd overall '04) and the cherry-on-top Sidney Crosby (1st overall '05). I mention this because the Penguins are now two points out of first-place in the East. Two years ago they were bad enough to warrant a first overall pick.

The lottery matters. This is where you get the superstars. The 2008 is set to be no different. Steven Stamkos, of Youtube fame and the Sarnia Sting, is the consensus projected No. 1 overall pick, and players like this tend to turn into superduperstars. No, that's not a word. There's no questioning his talent, nor the need for the Maple Leafs to have a hometown star (Stamkos is from nearby Unionville, ON).

For a Leaf fan, it's a situation promising enough to cause me to drool. Many others see it the same way, leading critics to believe that the pressure placed on young Mr. Stamkos' shoulders would be far too great a weight for any man to carry.

I, however, see it differently. I must admit to being a bit of a defeatist when it comes to matters of the Maple Leafs. Yes, I am cheering for us to lose in the hopes that we land the first overall pick. But deep down, I'm not sure where, I feel we won't get it. And so Stamkos will be absolved of that pressure, and go back to having the regular pressure of attempting to becoming simply one of the best 10 or so hockey players in the world.

I'm sure the Sports Guy felt the same defeatist attitude when the Celtics were tanking. The draft rolled around and Boston landed neither Oden or Durant. Both hailed as saviors, both headed to the Northwest rather than Eastern seaboard. But on the other hand, look how things turned out for the Celtics...

Come to think of it, can Kevin Garnett skate?

1) For no reason at all the All-Star Jerseys are two colours. Blue and Silver for the East and White and Gold for the West. Most of the time it looks like four teams are playing at once. Aside from nearly giving me a seizure, it's just difficult to keep up with.
2) There are 30 games left in the regular season, and those 30 games actually mean something. Well, at least in the West.
3) New Orleans seems very cool.

Rather than discuss the All-Star game, which is playing in the background as we speak, I'd like to talk about the NBA Playoffs. In high school I used to watch eagerly, but the last few years my attention has waned.

I don't watch the first round (although last year I stayed up for a few Mavericks-Warriors games), and I haven't for years. That's because since 1991, when we first crowned Michael and the Bulls, we've seen little parity in the NBA. Or rather, we've seen too much parity - too many teams suck.

We had three titles from the Bulls, two from the Rockets that would have been moot if Jordan had stayed in the league, and three more by the Bulls. Mike retires, and that ushers in the current era of Boring Ball.

The Spurs get one in shortened '99, then we had the Laker reign, followed by the Spurs, the Pistons team that beat the last remnants of the dysfunctional Lakers, the Spurs, the Heat and...surprise! The Spurs.

Most of the time I would argue that dynasties are not good for sport. The exception would be the Jordan dynasty because Michael had a penchant for delivering some of the most memorable moments in the history of the game. On top of that, he had the biggest fan base of any single player in the history of the game. Everybody liked Mike.

I think it's fair to concede we won't see someone like that in the game for a long time, though LeBron flirted with that type of moment with his single-handed dismantling of the Pistons in the Eastern Conference Finals. And yet, that is just one moment, whereas Jordan's memorable moments were virtually a daily occurance.

The Laker dynasty was entertaining basketball, especially those heated series' with Portland and Sacramento, but I think we all sort of expected Kobe and Shaq to win (except for those in Portland and Sacramento). That might have contributed to the over-blowing of the domestic squabbles. In those three years the Lakers had the stars and supporting cast that was unmatchable - they were the best team.

The Spurs won by being the best team as well, with a great supporting cast surrounding their stars, but their stars weren't as engaging or exciting as Shaq and Kobe. Tim Duncan, though undeniably great, is not a highlight waiting to happen. I often wonder how we'll remember the Duncan era. He dominates, but not because he's bigger, stronger, or faster than other power forwards. He's got those intangibles (that's almost a curse word), like intelligence, competitiveness, leadership and consistency. The truth is Duncan is the poster boy for the Spurs boring brand of basketball. For the purists, it is a beautiful game. For those watching them (and I wasn't) dismantle the Nets and Cavs it was a systematic process that was certainly inevitable. The seven game series against the Pistons held some allure because it was a seven game series.

Anyways, all this is a long-winded re-cap to say that the NBA Playoffs haven't been exciting for a while. That is, until now.

The NBA needs to have the Jason Kidd trade go through. It seems like it's going down on Monday and this is great news. This is great news, not because I like Jason Kidd or the Dallas Mavericks, but because this is the third blockbuster trade in a matter of a few weeks in the Western Conference.

First Pau Gasol to the Lakers, then Shaq to the Suns, now Kidd to the Mavericks; add in the Celtics loading up on veterans, and all of this serves to send the message that, "we are sick of the Spurs!" Even the Hawks made a trade for Mike Bibby, which will almost certainly land them in the playoffs (the Nets will plummet without Kidd and the Sixers just aren't as good as the Hawks with an actual point guard).

The Celtics probably weren't so much sick of the Spurs as they were sick of being a lottery team every year, but still; teams in the NBA are hungry for change. Owners and GM's have learned the hard way that no one is getting past the Spurs with the line-ups they have now and so they're rolling the dice.

All of this makes the Western Conference extremely intriguing.

Don't forget that joining these three powerhouses in the West are the resurging Utah Jazz and the New Orleans Hornets. These are good basketball teams, maybe not championship calibre yet, but good enough to scare someone in the first round. As of my typing this the Denver Nuggets, Golden State Warriors and Houston Rockets are all within just 4.5 games of the Suns and Hornets for first in the West. And should Portland sneak into the playoffs, would you want to play them in the first round? Me either.

So, with everybody trying to take advantage of their closing window, who has the upper hand?

The Lakers make a strong case with their starting five: Kobe, Pau, Lamar Odom, Fisher and Andrew Bynum. Bynum will be in tough against Shaq and Timmy D, but the Pau and Kobe factor is enough to scare any team. If any one player has the ability to rise out of the West and simply win the series themselves, it's Kobe. He'll explode for 60, and shut down your top-scorer. This we know. But the Lakers aren't deep, which should pose a problem, especially as they advance. The Hornets and Jazz might not be saavy enough to exploit them, but the Spurs and Suns certainly will.

Before I move on, lets clarify something. We've got to leave health out of the equation. Not to say it's not important, but to say that's it's SO important we've got to assume that if any of these teams loses a key piece to their team they'll likely fall out of serious contention because it's just too tight in the West. So injuries aside...

The Mavs are going to look GOOD with Jason Kidd. He makes people better, that goes without saying, and knows how to make the decisions that win basketball games. Nobody will question his leadership when he's got a chance to win. I hope the Mavs play the Utah Jazz, because watching Deron Williams and Kidd go at each other would be amazing. Mark Cuban originally didn't want to make this trade, didn't want to give up some young pieces, but with every other club reacting, Cuban's hand was forced. The thing is, he shouldn't have hesitated; he should have realized long ago this is they type of player they needed to get over the hump. We're going to see Jason Kidd with the best supporting cast he's ever had. And that's exciting.

On a side note, Kidd prompts a return of Devin Harris, Mo Ager, Trenton Hassell, DeSagana Diop, Keith Van Horn (are you serious?), TWO first round picks and cash. Can we go over what the Raptors got for Vince Carter? Eric Williams (not in NBA), Aaron Williams (2.3 ppg for the Clippers) and Alonzo Mourning, who didn't even report to Toronto, forcing us to buy him out, and thus, pay money to watch him walk away. This is what Rob Babcock did to us. This man was an executive in the NBA. I'm speechless. We did get two future draft picks.

The Suns gave up a lot to get Shaq, but we have to look past that. Yes, he's aging and had health problems. Yes, the Suns occasionally run the basketball. But face it; they weren't going to win it with the guys they had. I love what Steve Kerr did here. He could have played the safe card and had the Suns come thisclose in the Conference Finals again, but with an aging Steve Nash, they only have maybe two years left to win. Because you're not going to win without out a true point guard. The Suns were getting killed because they couldn't play D, and they couldn't get key buckets in the half-court when the Spurs slowed it down. Shaq, even at 70% of what he once was, gives you imposing D, a body on Duncan and a man who I'm sure Steve Nash will get 5-7 dunks per game. The thing is, Shaq will be effective because he's going to be on the court with Amare Stoudamire. Amare is amazing even while playing out of position as the biggest guy on a small team, now he can move to the four-spot, where Marion and Hill were playing out of position, and will be free to wreak havoc. Shaq is a plus because you have to respect his presence, even if he's not as dominant as he once was, and he passes well for a big man.

The Spurs are still the Spurs. They're still good at basketball. Everyone is gunning for them now, and I think this is one of the most overlooked things about sports. The champions, the team that everyone wants to beat, they get the best game from their opponent every night. The desire to beat San Antonio has never been higher, as evidenced by the recent string of deals. But they've been there before. They know what it takes to win, know the level of sacrifice required. They're not out of the mix just because of a few tantalizing trades.

All that being said, what do I love most about these deals? It's the fact that on paper, there's no way to know who will win. Celtics and Magic? Suns and Lakers? Spurs and Mavericks? The Nuggets, Raptors, Cavaliers (you have to respect LeBron), Jazz and Hornets could all upset. It all adds up to simple and joyful fact that for the first time in a few years, the last 20 games will matter. We'll get to watch intense basketball as we see teams jockey for favorable match-ups. The first round of the playoffs will feature teams that could conceivably beat each other, and we'll see competitive basketball all the way through June.

Since I feel obligated, I'll make a pick. I think Shaq and the Suns get it done in the West. I think they'll play the Mavs in what will be one of the most memorable Conference Finals ever. I picked the Celtics to win it in the Summer when they made the big acquisitions, and so I'll stick with them here, if only because I think the team who survives the West will have had too taxing a road to get there.

Celtics over Suns in 7.

Predictions? Let me have 'em.

It is no surprise to you, dear reader, that I love hockey. In Toronto, hockey is king. Well, in Canada hockey is king-- but people in Toronto aren't so much fans of hockey - they're fans of the Maple Leafs.

Our beloved Buds haven't won the Stanley Cup since 1967, which is co-incidentally the second longest drought in the NHL (the longest belongs to the Chicago Blackhawks who haven't won since 1961), and despite this apparent commitment to mediocrity the Maple Leafs remain the NHL's flagship franchise. No other team sells more merchandise or makes more money.

People come out in droves despite the fact that the Leafs haven't been to the Stanley Cup Finals since 1967. Oh, we've come close. Just close enough to tease the loyal fan base. In 1993 we were favored in the Conference Finals before a guy you may have heard of, Wayne Gretzky, single handedly ruined us in Game Seven. Gretzky's Los Angeles Kings went on to lose in the Stanley Cup Finals to the Montreal Canadiens. Then, in 2002, we loaded up on veteran talent and made it to the Conference Finals once more, only to lose to the Carolina Hurricanes, who were eventually swept in the finals by the Detroit Red Wings.

Why do we come back? What is the hold on Leaf Nation? In trying to explain us, I search for a common denominator south of the border.

In America the most popular current fan-ship is probably the Red Sox Nation. When I thought about writing a piece based on my love of the Toronto Maple Leafs, my apology for being a Leafs fan, I figured I'd start by making the comparison of Leaf Nation to the fans of the Boston Red Sox, thinking that at least Red Sox fans would understand how much we love the Leafs. You know, Fever Pitch, but with Mike Myers instead of Jimmy Fallon.

But when I started going through the facets of the Leafs history, their story and how they've come to where they are now--I realized we're not much like the Boston Red Sox at all. If anything, we're like the mortal enemy of the Red Sox: the New York Yankees.

That's right, we're hockey's evil empire. The evidence doesn't lie. Here's some of the reasons the Maple Leafs are more like the Yankees.

1. Rich Tradition- The Yankees have won the World Series 26 times, but more importantly they have a lengthy tradition featuring a lot of headlining names. The Babe, Mickey Mantle, Phil Rizzuto, Roger Maris, Lou Gehrig, Joe Dimaggio, Reggie Jackson, Mariano Rivera and Derek Jeter. That's just off the top of my head. In Toronto you grow up hearing the stories of Johnny Bower, Terry Sawchuk, Dave Keon, Bob Baun, Tim Horton, Red Kelly, Frank Mahovolich, George Armstrong, Darryl Sittler, Lanny McDonald, Borje Salming, Wendell Clark, Doug Gilmour and Mats Sundin. Just like the Yankees, that list spans all the decades and makes a laundry list of star power and legendary tales. Can I tell you anything about Bob Baun? No. I don't know how he played, or what his strengths/weaknesses were. All I know is that I have heard the story that he scored a Stanley Cup winning goal while playing on a broken ankle enough times to feel like I was there.

2. Lunatic Owner- The Yanks have Steinbrenner and the Leafs had a lunatic named Harold Ballard, who was first to discover that the Leafs could put an inexpensive, uncompetitive team on the ice and still sell out games. He was notorious for making impulsive trades simply because of disagreements or arguments. He chased legendary Captain Darryl Sittler, he of the record-holding 10 point game, out of town simply because of an argument the two had. Where the Yankees get off easy is that Steinbrenner at least wants to win. Ballard was insane.

3. Press and Fan Microscope- There are players who simply cannot handle the pressure that comes from playing in Toronto. The media spotlight is unlike any other city in the league. Some guys will play poorly in Toronto, get traded for a bag of pucks to a place like Florida, and then light it up due to the fact that no one there cares about the games. Some players use the pressure to take their game to a new level. Current Leaf Captain Mats Sundin, one of the NHL's all-time greats, broke into the league many years ago with the now defunct Quebec Nordique. Quickly gaining the reputation of being extremely skilled but kind of soft, Mats arrived in Toronto and was in a little over his head. But over the years he adapted our style of play (grit and toughness is admonished in Toronto--youtube Tie Domi) and became a hockey hero. In an interview after Saturday's win against Detroit Mats said that what keeps him working hard year in and year out is simply how much the fans in Toronto care about the Leafs.

4. Tried to buy success but failed- Steinbrenner is not shy about doling out his pennies to put a winning team on the field. Well, before the NHL had a salary cap, this was the Leafs in a nut-shell. We were not shy about forking over money, draft picks and prospects (Brad Boyes currently has 30 goals for the St. Louis Blues) for aging veterans who are a shadow of what they once were. The classic example that jumps to mind is trading Boyes and Alyn McCauley to the San Jose Sharks for once-dominant power forward Owen Nolan. Nolan came to the Leafs, proceeded to NOT score goals despite getting as many chances as is humanly possible, then suffer a season-ending injury that he attempted to sue the Leafs for over the summer. We then paid him $6 milion just to go away! Now that's a bargain!

No matter what we looked like going into the playoffs we made sure to pick up a few veterans, virtually ravaging the minor-league system and crippling all development in the process. The only thing that saved Brian Cashman from this, was his realizing that the team needed to rebuild with youth, and still being able to spend big dollars while cultivating the Joba's and Hughes' of recent memory. Imagine MLB threw a salary cap at the Yankees two years ago, and they had to field a team without their superstars. That's where the Leafs stand now.

5. People hate us- Just like the boys in the pinstripes, we Maple Leaf fans cactch a lot of hate from other fans around the league. I didn't even know this until I moved away from home, but everyone outside of Ontario hates Toronto fans. I've almost gotten in more fights since coming to school in British Columbia than you'd ever believe. At a Christian University! Vancouver fans are always compaining about how Toronto fans never give them any respect or something...I don't know, I'm not usually listening.

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So, you may be wondering why anyone would subject themselves to this torture? 41 years without a Stanley Cup, a team that currently sits 27th out of 30 teams, being abhorred by your peers, little to no future coming through the minors, and the most expensive and difficult to attain tickets in the league? Well I will give you my reasons.

1. Playoff Time- If only we could get back in. When the Leafs are in the playoffs there is a buzz in all of Canada that cannot be matched by any team in any sport. I am saying you can literally feel the buzz, it is palpable, from as soon as you get up in the morning. It's all people want to talk about. And for about five years in a row, we kept beating the Ottawa Senators, our arch-rival, despite the fact that they were favoured in every series, and we held our heads high because the sure, the Senators were good, but we knew how to win. The most recent time, our last playoff appearance in 2004, was my personal favourite. There is nothing like a Game Seven win in Toronto.

2. No matter where the Leafs go play there are always fans- Even down in Florida you can hear the crowd chanting GO LEAFS GO. This is especially exciting in places like Buffalo and Ottawa, where at times the Leaf fans make up half the crowd. The last time they played the Edmonton Oilers, an Oiler player complained after the game that with all the Leaf fans in the building it felt like they were playing on the road. You see, back when the baby boomers were growing up, there was one game on TV Saturday nights. It was Toronto vs. Montreal. All across Canada, people cheered for either Toronto or Montreal. Now that these people are grown and dispersed throughout North America, they remain loyal to their team and attend Leaf games whenever they come through town.

3. Great Players- Due to the media spotlight, we in Toronto attracted some great players over the years. Some truly unique guys. Wendell Clark may well have been one of the most loved Leafs ever, for reasons you can view below.

(Editor's note: The following video shows more violence than most Burnside readers may be used to. But it's an awesome sort of violence, like boxing.)

It's worth the watch. 2:09 in there is the play I most remember Clark for. It was the 1993 Conference Finals, and we were playing the Kings. Our best player, Doug Gilmour, was blind sided by Kings tough-guy Marty McSorley (he of the slashing Donald Brashear in the head fame). Clark stepped in and handed McSorley his lunch. He didn't pick his spots either; he fought the toughest guys in the league, including numerous bouts with legendary knuckle-dragger Bob Probert. He also found time to amass 564 points and 1690 penalty minutes in 793 games. Wendell is also awesome for now living in my hometown, Aurora, Ontario, where my friend Heather once baby-sat his kids.

I may devote a whole other column to the other Leaf greats, but for sake of space I'll just list some names for you to peruse on your own time. The aforementioned Darryl Sittler, Borje Salming, Doug Gilmour, and of course, Mats Sundin. Plus all the other guys listed above.

4. If we ever won the Stanley Cup it would be the celebration to end all celebrations. I don't know how this Leaf momentum got started, or how it became so crazy, but I do know one thing: If the Leafs ever managed to win the Stanley Cup it would be pandemonium. The greatest hockey city in the world, finally getting its treasured possession. We're getting cranky. Like Gollum in Lord of The Rings kind of cranky. Possessed even. In the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City, Canada beat the U.S.A. to win Gold, and I think that was the biggest game of my life to date. The whole country was watching and there were people in the streets celebrating after as though the war was over or something. All my buddy Mark could think was, "imagine how much bigger it would be if the Leafs won the Cup." And it would be bigger. For some reason, Toronto fans aren't fair weather fans, but they love the Leafs more than they love the game of hockey. Not all Leaf fans are like this. I am certainly not. I love the Leafs, but I love hockey. I would watch Columbus play Phoenix and give you 10 reasons why it would be an entertaining bout. So though the Canada win was a big one, a Toronto one would be even more celebrated.

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Even moreso, I love the Leafs because Toronto is my home town, and hockey's biggest stage. I love the Leafs because on Saturday night, friends and family get together to watch the game; win or lose, we're united around the television set. We are euphoric with every goal for and inconsolable with each one against.

I love the Leafs because they are the only team in which a fourth-line fighter, who plays two minutes a game, but uses those two minutes to fight, gets rock star treatment around the city. I love the Leafs because if you play with heart, grit, passion and intensity, you are rewarded with unweilding loyalty. We don't let players half-ass it - you'll get run out of town - but bleed passion onto the ice for us, like Wendell, and you'll be enshrined forever.

I love the Leafs because some of my best memories in life are sitting in my living room in May, while the sun is going down, watching playoff games with my father. Because CBC's pre-game show turns off the talking heads, turns up the crowd volume, and lets the atmosphere speak for itself. Because I still get chills when I hear the national anthem, and the camera closes in on the players faces while they are trying to contain their nerves.

I love sport because there is always hope. No matter how bad things get, no matter how many losses the season before, no matter how many times failure strikes, each fall the season starts anew, and 30 teams once again believe they have a chance to win the Stanley Cup. Even when things are in the doldrums, we can always look up. That's all anyone ever wants.

I love the Leafs because in the last seven days, though we are the 27th place team, we managed to beat Ottawa, Montreal and Detroit, three of the league's best, and lose to the lowly Florida Panthers 8-0. All in the same week.

These days it's tough to be a Leaf fan. But it's bound to get better. We're bad now, but if we stay bad things are looking up. There's always hope in the draft? Surely we will find one worthy of returning the Leafs to glory. Ever heard of Steven Stamkos?

This is the big question in sports. Players never hesitate to call each other out on how badly they want a win, or to point out where someone else's wanting evidently exceeded their own. Often coaches use the phrase, almost as an excuse, "We made some good plays and they made some good plays, but when it came down to it, they wanted it more."

Marcus Ginyard, a forward for the Tar Heels, was recently quoted as saying, "Maryland, no doubt, wanted it more", referring to the Terps' upset of previously undefeated North Carolina. What does this mean? Am I led to believe that North Carolina, at 17-0, didn't really mind losing a game to unranked Maryland? That they figured a loss wouldn't hurt them in tournament standings? And that these differing levels of wanting were responsible for the outcome?

Sure, wanting to win is a crucial part of playing basketball. Let's ignore, for a little bit, the fact that there are other crucial elements, such as making shots for example. Where could we go with this?

The New England Patriots: Now there's a team that's good at wanting. Tom Brady, Randy Moss, Donte' Stallworth, Wes Welker...I don't know if they're talented or not, or if they work hard, but seeing as they haven't lost a game all season, they must have powerful desires. Bill Belichick breaks the rules of fair play and surreptitiously tapes the Jets? It's forgivable; he just wants it more (actually, this is what the penalty imposed by the NFL amounts to).

I guess we could say that Barry Bonds, upset with the lack of attention despite producing some of the best stats in recent history, wanted it more. Right? He decided to boost his power totals in order to be as visible and as celebrated as Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, and I imagine he was totally committed to doing whatever was necessary to achieve it. And he succeeded, becoming baseball's all-time home run leader. He must have wanted it more.

I guess Philip Rivers must have wanted it more too. Virtually everyone saw him on the Chargers' sideline during the final seconds of their playoff win over the Colts, talking some trash with the Indy fans (brushing away the fact that he wasn't even on the field for the winning drive). Look at the fire in his eyes and his hands as he yells at the seats. A man to admire, really; look at how badly he wanted it.

Why do we admire "wanting it" all that much? I understand that we pay professional athletes millions of dollars, and that their drive to succeed is important to their careers, so it's difficult to criticize them for it. But we expect them to "want it" constantly and completely, regardless of how this desire might affect their behavior and their psyche.

Think about how this principle would work in areas of life unrelated to sports.
If your business hires a new employee, and he does everything he can to be promoted to management as soon as possible, you could say that he wanted it more. You could also say he was power-hungry, or a money-grubber, or any other of a number of pejoratives. If a guy decides to buy a girl flowers every day for a year, despite her rejections, you could say that he wanted it more. You could also say that he was desperate.

Bobby Fischer was the United States' first chess celebrity. An absolute genius and a fierce competitor, he was never satisfied with a match that ended in a draw - he always played to win. He passed away last week, effectively exiled from his home country, his reputation for antisocial and offensive behavior nearly overshadowing his formidable skill. His desire to succeed at a game could not be kept separate from how he lived the rest of his life.

We quickly lose respect for athletes, such as Carl Pavano or Jaromir Jagr, if we feel they're giving less than a hundred percent. But there's danger at the other end of the spectrum as well; being consumed with desire can be just as damaging, if not more so, and can produce victories that are empty at best. Sometimes games are simply games, and sometimes "wanting it" simply leaves you...wanting.

Tony Dungy has announced that he will return as the Colts' head coach for at least one more year. Although I'm glad he decided to continue coaching, his reputation would not have suffered had he opted for retirement. Players and analysts praise his considerable coaching skills, and his Super Bowl ring speaks for itself, yet he genuinely considers leaving it behind for something more important. The desire to win football games seems for Dungy neither too weak nor too strong; he provides a wonderful example of successfully "wanting it" without "wanting it" too much.

Though I don't usually throw down my chops as a sports writer, I figured I'd take a crack at analyzing America's Team; you may know them as The Dallas Cowboys.

Since the royal Bill Parcells left the illustrious Cowboys, major sports media has nearly frenzied upon the desire to make him out as a god among mortals. (He may need to be a god among mortals to turn around the Dolphins-Ed.) It's actually almost as if Parcells is getting more fame now than he did while he was a coach. Aside from the obvious exposure from those witty Coors Light commercials, Parcells' name has been dropped more times this year in Sports news than Willis McGahee, Ray Lewis or any of the Baltimore Ravens (also known as the 'Build-Up-More Rap-Sheets'). This en masse name dropping has mostly been due to one hot debate; is Wade Phillips feasting on the desserts of Bill Parcells labour?

Let's look at the facts. Parcells took an ailing franchise, in need of some serious overhauling, and made them a 9-7 contender by incorporating raw talent from players with attitude problems (Keyshawn, T.O., Julius Jones, Marion Barber). Parcells also let Quincy Carter QB the team for years, telling the impatient Romo he needed more time to mature and develop. Parcells also managed to calm down the hyperactive Terrell Owens (a tad) and clearly tell him that if he wanted to play and be a great receiver, he was going to have to settle for both long and short-yardage receiving.

In a debate on prosportsdaily.com, the question was asked to readers 'What % of credit does Parcells deserve for the Cowboys current success?' Here are the results:

What % of Credit Does Bill Parcells Deserve?
0-25% - 15.38%
26-50% - 46.15%
51-75% - 30.77%
76-100% - 7.7%

Though the opinions of the public have been stated, I will gingerly state mine. Sure - Parcells did the Cowboys a great favor in their rebuilding years. But Phillips, though he may not have farmed the talent, sure knows how to put it to work for him. Even though the Boys have seemed flat in their last few weeks (including the playoff loss to the Giants which we'll dissect in a moment), there's no question that even by being bucked out this year (by the lesser Manning even!), Dallas is a strong contender looking ahead, after years of cellar-dwelling.

Yes - they have a lot of money. Yes - Tony Romo and Jessica Simpson have a 'thing' going. Yes - I do like Parcells. And finally YES - I am a Dallas Cowboys fan and always have been (mostly due to a family connection to hall-of-famer coach Tom Landry). But let us not forget that Parcells, even in his most dominant years, while coaching The Giants, he boasted a top-notch defense...a defense that was coached by some guy named Bill Belichick. You may have heard of him. We all need a little help from our friends, don't we? At the end of the day, though, when the numbers are crunched, Parcells may have given Phillips a boost but Wade is getting the job done and no debate can sully that fact.

The proverbial dust, however, has now settled and the Boys are not going to be seeing any further playoff action this year due to a 21-17 loss to the Giants. The facts are in, statements have been made and one Mexico bar tab still needs to be settled. Here's the way I see things shaking out for America's team now and for seasons to come.

Wade Phillips needs to understand that a real coach mans up after a loss and admits when his team was outplayed by the other team. Instead, Phillips stated 'I really feel like the better team lost today'. Really Phillips? I'm not so sure the 'better team' would have dropped as many passes (not pointing any fingers; Crayton) or taken as many penalties down the stretch as the Boys did. Don't get me wrong - I'm a Cowboys fan - but the truth hurts and truthfully, the Giants were a well-oiled machine in that game. They were disciplined, steady, and they capitalized when it counted. The loss drops Phillips to 0-3 in his playoff career. I'm actually quite shocked at the comments he made, seeing as he led a rumor-plagued team through such a strong 13-3 season. Phillips - I'm really sorry your team lost but you might be out of a job because you showed no backbone when the heat was on.

And now the star of the quarterback tabloids - Tony Romo. I know - the dude went to Mexico with Jessica Simpson for a few days before their game against the Giants. It was a stupid move and everyone in the free world (including a vehemently outspoken Terry 'stick-with-football-and-not-acting' Bradshaw) saw the lack of wit in what Romo did.
Briefly and be-grudgingly, I think it's important to look at Romo and his Jessica-jaunt to Mexico and its possible impact on his team and the outcome of the game. After all, some people don't agree with Bald-as-an-eagle Bradshaw - some people actually thought it was a smart move for Romo. With all of the controversy surrounding his team, it might have been smart for Romo to get away from the headlines and the pressure for a while. But here's the question I pose: If Parcells was still coaching the Cowboys today, would he have

a. allowed Romo to go in the first place

b. allowed him to play after getting back home

Absolutely not. Personally, I don't agree with Romo's actions. I mean - a few more weeks of football and then he could have gone anywhere he wanted within reason. It's somewhat ironic that by taking the personal vacation and wanting to escape the controversy and headlines, Romo actually created more of both in the process. The trip also sent a message to the rest of the Cowboys; Romo can do what he wants, get away with it and still be the starting quarterback. Phillips, if he has any hope of being a winning coach, needs to grow some cajones and lay down the lay when his players start acting childish.

People make mistakes - let's move on, shall we? In all honesty, in the wake of the Mexico scandal and out of the whole Cowboys squad, Romo actually went up a few notches on my respect scale after the game. Why? Because he stayed in there. He took massive hits from the Giants D. He was visibly frustrated. He argued with the refs. He improvised. He made a Favre-esque flick pass to Witten in the dying moments of the 4th quarter to keep his team in the contest. Romo - if I were your coach last weekend, I wouldn't have let you play...but I say that you gave it your all in that game and I salute you. Your buddy Troy Aikman was proud.

The future of the Dallas Cowboys now hangs in the balance of how management copes with the loss, and whether they'll make reactionary adjustments. Unfortunately, reactionary adjustments will be the only course of action as long as Jerry Jones is alive. In actuality, I'm glad Romo, T.O. and the crew didn't win. It was almost too much too fast for a team on the rise. I don't think they (or we?) would have really appreciated the W as much as a team that had to fight through adversity. Let's face it - this season's Cowboys team had much that was handed to them from day one. What I am excited to see, however, is next season's squad and the new things that will come from Sunday's hard lesson. Parcells vs. Phillips? Who cares. Let's see what happens next.

SUPER PREDICTIONS FOR XLII

Chad Gibbs- I predict this year's Super Bowl will hold my attention for about a quarter, at which point I will channel surf for something more entertaining, like a test pattern. Patriots 36 Giants 17. - Chad Gibbs, college football fan

David Azuma- "I give the Giants absolutely zero chance of upsetting New England in this one. Zero! Yes they gave them a good run in week 17 but this is the big show and somehow the image of little Eli Manning hoisting the Lombardi Trophy is not one that I am willing to consider. Concerned about Tom Brady and that moonboot he's been wearing? Well I'm, pretty sure he could play with a ball and chain attached to that ankle and still win this game. Good on the Giants for an inspiring run, but the joy ride ends here."

Matt McKechnie- My final superbowl prediction? Although the Giants have shown some muscle in their last 3 games, New England has too much overall depth. It will be a close game to the wire. A few crucial mistakes by Manning will seal the deal for NE. Kudos and hats off to Manning, Strahan and crew who have given two of the best NFC teams wake-up calls.
Final score of The Superbowl:
New England 24
NY Giants 21

Bryan Allain- 1) The Giants will wear their their white uniforms and the Patriots will wear blue.
2) The Patriots will win the coin toss, will elect to receive, and will kick a FG on their first drive.
3) Osi Umenyora will give Tom Brady's bad ankle an indian sunburn during a post-whistle pileup.
4) There will be at least one call on the field reversed by a challenge.
5) During the halftime show, Tom Petty will perform "Runnin' Down a Dream" before he performs "Won't Back Down".
6) Randy Moss will catch a touchdown and will celebrate by dry humping either the goalpost or Wes Welker.
7) The Patriots will win 37-17.
8) There will be over a dozen shots of Peyton and Archie Manning's luxury suite.
9) Laurence Maroney will win the MVP with 130+ yards rushing and 2+ TDs.
10) The Patriots will dominate from start to finish, cementing their claim to the title of Best Single Season Ever.

Jon Adams- So nobody is picking the Giants? Hmm. Strange. Chuck Klosterman thinks the Patriots will be forever remembered they lose, more so than if they win the big game. I think that is crazy, but admit that it made a pretty interesting article. The Patriots will be very famous indeed at 19-0.

Not Alex Rodriguez the player, but the infernal nickname cast upon him by some enterprising sports writer. First letter of first name, dash, first three letters of last name.

It's not that A-Rod in itself is awful, but we're talking about the best baseball player in the world. Maybe of all time. "A-Rod" is certainly no "The Great One" or "Air". Players used to have names like "The Round Mound of Rebound", "The Splendid Splinter" and "The Refrigerator". In the words of Mike Lafontaine, "Wha' happen'"?

But A-Rod was the just the first foray into what has become an epidemic of uncreative nicknames. Many are direct imitations of the A-Rod theme: K-Rod, D-Wade and T-Mac, for example. The best running back in football, Ladanian Tomlinson, is shortened to "LT", an affront not just to literary sensibilities, but to Hall of Fame linebacker Lawrence Taylor, who had the handle in the 80's.

A few bloggers and sportswriters out there are making a difference, particularly Big Daddy Drew from Kissing Suzy Kolber, an oft-NSFW NFL blog. Drew, a rabid Minnesota Vikings fan, renamed rookie running back Adrian Peterson "Purple Jesus" after an impressive preseason game. The nickname is two-fold: Peterson may be the savior of a struggling franchise, and he's also a professed Christian. "Purple Jesus" is simple, brilliant and appropriate.

With the internet and the extensive sports blogging realm, bad nicknames should be a thing of the past. Fans aren't dependent on one or two local sportswriters anymore, or pop culture references littering Sportscenter. Every professional sports team has at least one talented writer/fan, and that fan probably has a blog. The Trail Blazers have three excellent sites devoted to the red and black: Blazer's Edge, OregonLive's Blazer Blog and the on-hiatus