Soon there may come a day when all you hear during a Heat finals game is gushing over Dwyane Wade, and maybe in the near future he might even be compared to Jordan upwards of six thousand times in one week. Someday, perhaps, it will seem at times like he's the only guy on the team, or at least the only guy who matters. I predict that soon he will be all announcers talk about, regardless of what else is occurring on the court, and that it may appear that he's the only person in the world playing professional basketball. I'm just telling you to keep an eye out, that's all. When it happens, you'll be able to say ol' Chris was there for you way back when.
I don't understand why there's so much scrutiny over Barry U.S. Bonds' alleged steroid use while NBA basketball players are shooting pills so often. They're not even trying to hide it. Commissioner Stern, consider this a charge from the fans. Clean up the game!
Hooray for lucky Australians! After Phil Mickelson played the last three holes at Winged Foot the same way I play Golden Tee after nine beers, they practically had to drag Ozzie Geoff Ogilvie away from his meatlovers at the Mamaroneck Pizza Hut to hand him the prize money. Mickelson's for-the-records choke had him hitting a trashcan, a tree, crowds of onlookers and a hospitality tent. If he'd tagged Ian Poulter's Isuzu Amigo in the parking lot, I'd have won on my travel version of Golf Mishap Bingo.
It gives me a great sense of my own mortality when an overrated NFL QB can be felled by an old lady taking the wrong turn on a one way street. But just in case there are still a few jackasses out there, a certain famous gorilla who knows sign language recently tipped me off to a site that adds insult to injury. For some of the sharpest, wittiest and most astute sports commentary available on the World Wide Web, I suggest you check out the New Yorker-esque social satire of BigBenSucks.