Today was my mom's birthday, which she shares with LeBron James and Tiger Woods. Isn't that great? My mom was born on the same date as, arguably, today's two biggest sports icons. Or at least the human embodiments of Nike's top two brands.

Also sharing a birthday with my mom: Sandy Koufax, Kerry Collins, Rudyard Kipling, Jack Lord, Bo Diddley, Tracey Ullman, Eliza Dushku, Matt Lauer, Julianne Moore, Davy Jones of the Monkees and Alexa Ray Joel (who, as I mentioned a few days ago, is the beneficiary of Christie Brinkley's superhuman DNA).

Mom and Dad are currently visiting my palatial estate, which has been a lot of fun. Well, it's mostly been fun for me, as Mom has been busy cooking and Dad has been installing a floor. But I'd like to think that they've enjoyed it as much as I have.

Tiger certainly had a good 30th birthday, as the Palm Beach Post reported that he agreed to buy a 10-acre oceanfront property valued at $40 million on Jupiter Island, Fla. I don't know how LeBron celebrated turning 21 but, golly, I guess now he can start going to clubs and stuff.

Not that you asked, but Karl Malone and Barry Bonds share my birthday. I'm not a fan of either one (although like everyone not named Kobe or Vanessa Bryant, I do enjoy the Mailman's comment about "hunting for young Mexican girls"). Also born on July 24: Former UNC basketball star Rick Fox, Amelia Earhart, Jennifer Lopez, Michael Richards (Kramer from Seinfeld), Robert Hays (Airplane!) and Lynda Carter (Wonder Woman). I'd trade all of them for Eliza Dushku.

Hate to cut this short -- because this been as enthralling for me as I'm sure it's been for you -- but it's 4:30 a.m., and I need to get some sleep so that I can be well-rested for tonight's New Year's Eve tomfoolery. If you’re in Hollywood, Fla. -- and you're not a Florida State football player with a penchant for violent crimes -- come hang out with me at the PRL Euro Café (1904 Hollywood Blvd). For everybody else, have a Happy New Year -- here's my final night note of 2005:

No technical issues

Home: LSU 40, Miami 3 in Peach Bowl
Mini: Judge's Peek at the Week/Prisco's Picks
Mini: Doyel on Vanderbilt
Promo Box: Ratto on Giants vs. Raiders

NBA: Mejia's resolutions

NHL: Senators 4, Islanders 3

NCAA football: LSU 40, Miami 3 in Peach Bowl

NCAA hoops: Doyel on Vanderbilt (mini)

DEPLOYED

Doyel on Vanderbilt column (9127019) and mini (9127190)

Mejia's resolutions column (9125680) and cover (9125771)

Utah pounded Georgia Tech tonight in the Emerald Bowl. Georgia Tech previously beat my Tar Heels, who in turn beat Utah. Thus, we saw yet again that the transitive law does not apply in sports.

Some laws, however, do apply to athletes, which brings us to A.J. Nicholson. A 19-year-old woman called police Thursday at 3 a.m., claiming that Florida State's star linebacker sexually assaulted her in a hotel in Hollywood, Fla., where the Seminoles are staying as they prepare for the Orange Bowl.

An investigation is under way, and few details are available. We do, however, know two things:

1. As a Hollywood resident, I should have been notified that the Seminoles would be staying here, so I could have installed a better home security system.

2. According to Bobby Bowden, Nicholson has been "sent home" and suspended for the game "for violating a team rule."

"Well, you learn lessons from other people's mistakes," said Bowden. "That's the biggest thing. You learn from other people's mistakes. Somebody's got to step up."

Yes, we should learn from other people's mistakes. In this case, other coaches should learn from the mistakes of Bobby Bowden, who chose not to step up and punish Nicholson in any meaningful way after two previous arrests this year. Charges of DUI and resisting arrest after a bar brawl would seem to merit a stiffer sanction than running stadium steps.

(For the record, the second charge was ultimately dropped.)

Bowden isn't the only one who hopes Nicholson's latest brush with the law proves to be an educational opportunity. I visited a popular FSU message board to see how the Seminole faithful are reacting to this news. One fan wrote, "Hopefully he has learned that when your (sic) a (sic) FSU player don't trust girls in South Florida."

I don't even know where to start on this. Maybe with the fact that a blanket indictment of "girls in South Florida" is monumentally stupid, since this particular girl is allegedly the victim of a crime, not the perpetrator of one (and, if you really want to nit-pick, we don't know that she's from South Florida).

So, what should Nicholson learn from this? Well, if he's guilty, I hope he learns how truly unpleasant prison can be. If he's not guilty, I hope he learns that justice is indeed blind, and that the innocent are swiftly exonerated.

(Also, I hope the FSU fan in question learns basic grammar. Anyone who's old enough to use a computer should know "your" is the possessive form of "you," while "you're" is the contraction of "you are." Why is this so hard to grasp? Don't even get me started on the a/an thing. I'll get off the sanctimonious copy editor's soapbox now.)

Another fan chimes in with, "I'm not saying this girl asked for it, but what kind of message does it send to be in a man's hotel room at that hour of the night? That doesn't mean it's OK to pressure her, etc. but she shouldn't have put herself in that situation. ... And the violation Bobby probably sent him home for was breaking curfew. It's a shame this won't be cleared up until after the game."

Of course, when somebody starts a statement with, "I'm not saying this girl asked for it, but ...," they're pretty much saying, "This girl asked for it." Might as well blame her for whatever she was wearing while you're at it.

I don't mean to imply that these isolated comments reflect the average FSU fan's opinion about this incident. Most Seminoles surely realize that, best-case, Nicholson has been falsely accused; worst-case, a 19-year-old was sexually assaulted. That is the shame here, not the fact that a football factory will be one linebacker short on Tuesday.

On to the night note.

No technical issues

Home: Oklahoma wins Holiday Bowl
Mini: Pistons 106, Heat 101
Mini: Doyel on Villanova
Promo Box: Dodd on USC restaurant

NCAA football: Dodd on USC restaurant
Mini: Oklahoma wins Holiday Bowl

NBA: Pistons 106, Heat 101
Mini: Mejia on Ron Artest

NHL: Therrien gets first win as Penguins' coach
Mini: Power Rankings

NEWSROOM

Prisco's picks

DEPLOYED

Prisco's notebook (9123715)

BANKED

Doyel's top-10 games (9123782)

As 2006 bears down on us like John Daly descending upon an open bar, some say our society is divided as never before. Not true.

Conflict is our real national pastime because, unlike baseball, it is inherently exciting. And over the long haul, one side tends to emerge as the resounding winner. This also appeals to Americans, whose love of clear-cut victors is why the NHL's new shootout rule is so popular.

Well, "popular" is a relative term; most folks would still rather watch an infomercial than a hockey game. In fact, since the Federal Trade Commission banned Kevin Trudeau from making future infomercials, maybe he should embark on a new career as an NHL color commentator. Then he could say things like, "Mario Lemieux has really been struggling with his health this season. What do you suppose he'd say if I told him there are literally hundreds of natural cures that the government and the big drug companies don't want him to know about???"

But I digress. Heated disagreements are nothing new. Two decades ago, the nation was being torn apart by the Heather Thomas vs. Heather Locklear rivalry. If you grew up in the early '80s and you wanted a poster of a girl in a bikini to hang on your wall, you went to the mall, strode directly to Spencer Gifts and faced one of the defining decisions of your young life: were you a Heather Thomas guy or a Heather Locklear guy?

It all came to a head in 1984, when Fall Guy star Thomas boldly invaded Locklear's turf by making a guest appearance on T.J. Hooker, but my mind was made up long before this unwarranted act of aggression. I loved Heather Locklear then, and by God, I love her now. And yes, I feel strangely vindicated by the fact that Locklear married a rock star and single-handedly saved both Melrose Place and Spin City, while Thomas hasn't had a film role since portraying a showgirl in My Giant. Advantage: Locklear.

(As a side note, Christie Brinkley deserves a mention in any discussion of '80s beauties. Brinkley's genetics are so good, she managed to have a hot daughter with Billy Joel. THAT is some potent DNA.)

At roughly the same time, America became embroiled in the rivalry between Michael Jackson and Prince. Thriller and 1999 came out in 1982, giving The Gloved One an early edge. Then Prince followed it up with Purple Rain while Michael entered a downward spiral of plastic surgeries, dangerously flammable hair, outfits apparently inspired by Cap'n Crunch, and alleged incidents of pedophilia. Advantage: Prince (almost by default).

Then there was Britney Spears vs. Christina Aguilera. Justin Timberlake -- of all people -- absolutely eviscerated Britney in the Cry Me a River video, starting her down a road littered with cigarettes and cellulite. But many of us always knew Britney -- like tornados, shirtless guys on Cops and cars on blocks -- was destined for the trailer park. Simply by not being married to Kevin Federline, the Dirrty girl collects a decisive victory over her fellow former Mouseketeer. Advantage: Aguilera.

(I should say, "the formerly Dirrty girl." Aguilera was recently quoted as saying, "I've decided on a classier image for the future -- more fitting for a married lady." C'mon, Christina -- you are beautiful no matter what they say. Words can't bring you down!)

Now there's Lindsay Lohan vs. the new-and-improved Lindsay Lohan. Or more accurately, the proves-that-I'm-a-dirty-old-man Lindsay Lohan vs. the please-God-eat-a-sandwich Lindsay Lohan. The plan looked so great on paper: Take a nubile young actress who loves to party, have her lose some baby fat and dye her hair blonde. Sounds like a winning formula to me! And yet it all went so horribly, horribly wrong. Here's a head-scracther: Lohan cited food poisoning after her recent last-minute cancellation of an appearance on Live With Regis & Kelly. Food poisoning? Impossible! She hasn't eaten anything since 2004. Advantage: Curvaceous Lohan.

The battle lines have once again been drawn, this time in the world of college basketball, as fans debate who's better: Duke guard J.J. Redick or Gonzaga forward Adam Morrison. The nation's top two scorers established themselves as the leading candidates for player of the year when Redick torched Texas for 41 points and Morrison poured in 43 at Washington. Six days later, after Morrison's game-winning, 3-pointer against Oklahoma State, Bill Raftery gushed "Larry Bird! Baby! Ugh!" and Kevin Harlan called him "the best basketball player in college basketball."

Maybe that's true, but others insist Redick is the best basketball player in college basketball. And like the aforementioned rivalries, history will be very unkind to one side ...

Pro potential

With the high release on his shot and his dynamic scoring ability, Morrison could be ... say it with me ... the next Larry Bird (or so they say, as "they" continue their search for a Great White Hope not named Dirk). While their scoring averages are similar, Bird also averaged 13.3 rebounds and 4.6 assists in college; Morrison doesn't hit the boards nearly as ferociously or pass with such panache. If people are determined to compare Morrison to a white ex-Celtic, why not John Havlicek? Morrison closely mirrors Hondo's college numbers (20.8 ppg, 6.3 rpg), sinewy frame and relentless hustle.

Redick's best-case scenario is becoming the next Jeff Hornacek, but he could just as easily be the next Trajan Langdon. In other words, a spot-up shooter who can't create for himself or others but is drafted in the first round mainly because he's a Dookie, and who practically steals an NBA team's money for three years before getting a one-way ticket to obscurity. More likely, he'll be a 3-point shooter off the bench, like Steve Kerr. Or a less athletic Rex Chapman. Or maybe Kelly Tripuka without the perm. There has to be a Celtic in this Caucasian cavalcade -- how about Bill Walton but much shorter, with healthier ankles, no jump hook, no speech impediment and no particular admiration for hippie music? Whatever. Advantage: Morrison.

By the numbers

Morrison is averaging 27.5 points, 6.4 rebounds, 1.6 assists, and 1.6 steals while shooting 53.1 percent from the field and 37.5 percent on 3-pointers. Redick is averaging 24.7 points, 1.8 rebounds, 2.1 assists and 1.0 steals while shooting 48.9 percent from the field and 46.5 percent on 3-pointers. Advantage: Morrison, due to his edge on the glass.

Personal style

With his sweet mustache, floppy hair and socks pulled high, Morrison would have fit right in as a character in Napoleon Dynamite. On the other end of the spectrum is Redick, who appears to have stepped out of Hoosiers. Advantage: Morrison.

Idol worship

Morrison is a role model for children with Type 1 diabetes. He wears an insulin pump when he's not playing, and must closely monitor his blood sugar throughout practices and games. Morrison answers letters and e-mails from diabetic fans but is reluctant to discuss his condition in public and never uses it as an excuse to slack off. As quoted by Sports Illustrated in 2003, "I've never said, 'I have diabetes, so I can't bust my ass on this play.'"

Meanwhile, Redick is a role model for anyone who aspires to be a truly wretched poet. A suburban white kid from Virginia, Redick cites Nas and Tupac as his poetic inspirations. Here's a sample verse: "I can't see what my future has in store / But I move forth with the strength of a condor."

Sweet Jesus! If Tupac had written anything remotely like that, he would have been shot years earlier.

Did I mention Morrison sometimes needs three insulin shots during games?

Advantage: Morrison

Big games

In last year's NCAA Tournament, Morrison averaged 26 points while Redick averaged 12. In fact, in Duke's last three NCAA Tournament losses, Redick shot 4-of-14 (vs. Michigan State), 4-of-12 (vs. UConn) and 2-of-16 (vs. Kansas). Advantage: Morrison

Bottom line

Yep, it's pretty obvious. The most gifted player in college basketball is ...

(drum roll, please ...)

Rudy Gay.

That's not the matter up for debate here, though. Redick will bring home most of the national player of the year hardware -- which is unfortunate, since Morrison is college basketball's best player.

A big thanks goes out to newsroom honcho Swanny, who generously gave us amazon.com gift certificates, which are far better than the coal that I typically receive at this time of year. I immediately used mine to buy To Be The Man , the autobiography of Ric Flair. Maybe someday Flair will autograph the book (assuming I can stand before him without shrieking like a delirious teenage girl at an Elvis Presley concert), thus turning it into a family heirloom.

In case you're wondering, my copy of To Be The Man cost $1.45. Best $1.45 I ever spent.

I put the remainder of the gift certificate toward The Ultimate Ric Flair Collection , a three-DVD retrospective of the Nature Boy's glorious career.

What this means to me: So help me God, I'll never be bored again. At the press of a button, I'll soon be able to watch Flair wrestle Dusty Rhodes or Ricky Steamboat or Harley Race -- or better yet, the Nature Boy's interviews and promos from his coked-up heyday. It boggles my mind. I don't know who's more shocked -- me for suddenly having what my esteemed colleague Eric Kay describes as "Flair on demand," or my roommate Rory, who will soon grow weary of this phrase: "There's nothing on TV ... hey, let's watch Naitch tangle with Terry Funk in the 'I Quit' match!"

What this means to you: Expect a dramatic increase in obscure wrestling references that will only be appreciated by four people -- my longtime associates Iron Mike, The Freak, Geran and Chris.

Now I just need a Flair robe and a title belt, which I may soon deserve. With three weeks left in the season, Eric Mack held a commanding six-game lead over me in our office NFL pool. Heading into the final week, I'm just one game back -- and it should be tied up. I was sure that I had picked Kansas City to beat San Diego, but no. That game will haunt me for a long time if I fall one win short.

But I digress. If wearing a title belt is good enough for the Nature Boy, and it's good enough for Rasheed Wallace, it's good enough for me. So if I somehow overtake Emack and hold off Charlie McCarthy, I will use my winnings to buy a belt and wear it around the office while yelling, "To be the man, you gotta BEAT the man! WOOOOOOO!!!"

OK, I'm outta here -- Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a joyous Kwanzaa to everybody!

On to the night note:

No technical issues

Home: Redskins over Giants / Prisco on Cowboys over Panthers
Mini: Mejia on NBA teams' needs
Mini: Goldstein's NHL notebook
Promo Box: Ratto on James Dungy

NFL: Redskins over Giants / Prisco on Cowboys over Panthers
Mini: Prisco on Alex Smith

NCAA football: Nevada over UCF in Hawaii Bowl

BANKED:

Miller on Hall of Fame column (9116303), cover (9116339) and mini (9116418)

I really shouldn't have laughed at this, but at least I wasn't the only person in the newsroom who got a chuckle out of Rick Majerus' quote tonight about a Connecticut basketball player.

"I'm not a big Gay guy," said the portly coach-turned-television commentator, much to the relief of gay men everywhere.

I know, I know -- grow up. But judging by Steve Lavin's grin, I have a hunch he was thinking the same thing I was. Anyway, when Rudy Gay is a gazillionaire a year from now, he can tell me, "Yeah, my last name is sorta funny, if you're in the seventh grade. You know what else is funny? Your checking account balance."

Of course, Majerus is still on TV because he reconsidered his decision to become USC's head coach. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise for the Trojans, who ended up hiring Tim Floyd. You may have noticed that Floyd's squad knocked off my Tar Heels tonight. It's a nice win for USC, but was it really an "incredible upset," as the FOX Sports play-by-play guy gushed?

Ignore the names on the jerseys for a minute. The Trojans were at home, and they rode in on a seven-game winning streak. The Tar Heels are the first team in ACC history to lose their top seven scorers from the previous season, and they were playing just their second road game of the season. In other words, it was the second road game ever for the four freshmen who are playing significant minutes.

But I don't want to take anything away from USC, which certainly deserved the win. And I don't blame Lodrick Stewart, who scored 18 points, for sobbing after the game. He and his twin brother Rodrick originally committed to attend UNC ... except Matt Doherty hadn't actually offered them scholarships, which one might consider an important step in the recruitment process. They ended up at USC, and I don't begrudge Lodrick for any feelings of satisfaction or vindication that he may have.

I probably could have lived without the "overrated" chant by USC's crowd, and the fact that they rushed the court like they just won the national championship ... but college basketball is supposed to be fun, so go ahead and savor the victory, Trojan fans!

Oh yeah -- HOOK 'EM HORNS!!!

On to the night note:

No technical issues

Home: Mejia on top NBA trios
Mini: Miller's MLB Insider
Mini: Week 16 Faceoff
Promo Box: Ratto on Johnny Damon

NBA: Mejia on top NBA trios

MLB: Miller's MLB Insider

NHL: Goldstein on rookies
Mini: Team Canada spurns Sidney Crosby
Mini: Power Rankings

Autos: Owens' 2005 season in review

Olympics: Team Canada spurns Sidney Crosby
Mini: Goldstein on USA hockey squad

DEPLOYED:

Miller's Love Letters (9110768)
Doyel's Hate Mail (9110815)

BANKED:
Mejia mini (9110857)

SLOT:

Goldstein on Ted Saskin (2 reads)
Dodd on Fiesta Bowl (2 reads)
Doyel on IUPUI (1 read)
Prisco's Insider (1 read)

These are good times around the office, this whole ... nutty ... late-December ... time frame. I'm trying to avoid the "H-word," the one that rhymes with "schmolidays," because I don't want to contribute to the ongoing War Against Christmas that -- as FOX News points out for the third year in a row -- is threatening the very fabric of our society.

Someone who's a godless, freedom-hating heathen might see this imaginary war as a cynically transparent attempt by a pathologically dishonest mass media outlet to distract the nation from $2.79 gas, the loss of a major American city and, of course, a very real war.

And someone who gives aid and comfort to our enemies might take issue with FOX News' over-the-top rhetoric, which describes the behavior of those who want to simultaneously acknowledge Christmas and Hanukkah with the same terms ("war," "attack," "assault") normally reserved for terrorists.

Not me, pal. My eyes are wide open. In fact, I've noticed five other wars that demand immediate action in the form of boycotts and letter-writing campaigns. Wake up, America!

NASCAR's Crusade to Eradicate Rudeness: Actually, I didn't notice this -- Jeff Owens did in a recent column in which he lists numerous examples of disrespectful behavior by NASCAR drivers. One of the perpetrators was Jeff Gordon, who in July "allegedly punched Mike Bliss in an airport after Bliss wrecked him at Chicagoland Speedway."

You KNOW disrespect is a problem when the Rainbow Warrior is going around punching people. I can imagine Gordon sashaying over to Bliss and saying something catty. Maybe even slapping him. Or, as my mom said, "Maybe he hit him with his purse." But an actual punch???

We're talking about a guy who has his own chardonnay, not to mention a "signature scent" featuring "base notes of coriander, armoise essence, labdanum and patchouli." I thought a long time about athletes who would scare me less than Jeff Gordon in a fistfight. The only ones I could come up with were Brian Boitano and Mary Lou Retton.

As for Bliss, the black eye he received has healed, and the folks at mikebliss.com are doing their best to help rebuild his shattered ego. As the site's front page says, "Congratulations Mike Bliss on being the only driver to complete a full season at Haas CNC Racing!!! You go boy!" While they're at it, I think Bliss should also be congratulated for tying his own shoes and going to the potty all by himself.

Kentucky's Brave Struggle Against Misplaced Documents: Here's how UK's official website quotes Tubby Smith, describing how he found the original fax dated May 9 that states Randolph Morris' intent to "test the waters" of the NBA Draft process rather than turn pro unequivocally:

"I had lost papers on a plane and I have been looking for them for some time. If I would have known how important those papers were I would have held on to them more tightly. Somebody must have realized what was in the papers and sent them back to us. If you travel as much as I do you can sometimes loose (sic) papers when you travel. (Compliance director) Sandy Bell told me if I could find those papers that it would really help. I went back (and) found them last week. Thank God I found the papers and we were able to work things out."

Let me get this straight. The NCAA rules Morris ineligible for the 2005-06 season. Then a week later, Smith is digging around on his desk and happens to find a fax sent seven months ago, which he had lost on a plane. Some good-hearted individual finds the fax on the plane, realizes that it's important and sends it back to the UK basketball offices ... where it somehow becomes lost again, this time on Smith's desk. Then after discouraging losses to Iowa, North Carolina and Indiana -- poof! -- the fax reappears. And since the NCAA has no doubt that it's 100 percent authentic, Morris is reinstated. It's a Christmas miracle!

Duke's Diabolical Effort to Antagonize Me: A couple of weeks have passed, so maybe now I can rationally discuss Sean Dockery's shot that beat Virginia Tech. Here's an approximate transcript of my conversation with Iron Mike, who called when the Hokies took a 75-74 lead with 1.6 seconds remaining at Cameron Indoor Stadium.

(Phone rings. I see it's Iron Mike)

"That's right! That's right!"

"Can you believe this???"

"I know, Duke completely folded down the stretch! This is unreal!"

"Isn't it? There's no way they're the best team in the country!"

"This is almost as good as UNC's win at Kentuc..."

(Sean Dockery hits a 40-foot heave)

"No ..."

"Oh ... my ..."

(Stunned silence)

"Ugh."

"Are ... you ... kidding ... me?"

"Jesus."

"&##@!"

I'm still not entirely sure what to make of Duke. I do know, however, that their 97-66 win over Texas will prevent me from opening an online gambling account for the foreseeable future. I don't know what the line for that game was, but I would have bet the farm on the Longhorns. Which proves, yet again, that I'm an idiot.

Hennepin County Sheriff's Party-Pooping Vendetta Against the Vikings: Kudos to the fine folks at The Smoking Gun for posting the criminal complaints against Daunte Culpepper, Fred Smoot, Bryant McKinnie and Moe Williams.

Quoting from the complaint against Culpepper, "... an employee of Al and Alma's Charter boats observed Duante Rachard Culpepper ... getting a 'lap dance' from an unidentified, naked female. This occurred in the bar area of the charter boat and during this lap dance, Mr. Culpepper placed his hands on the naked buttocks of the female dancer."

(Isn't it great to see "lap dance" in quotation marks, as if it's some sort of obscure slang? Who doesn't know what a "lap dance" is?)

And that's it. That's all he did. Culpepper is charged with indecent conduct, disorderly conduct and lewd or lascivious conduct -- and getting his name dragged through the mud -- because he allegedly got a "lap dance" and (gasp!) placed his hands on naked buttocks at a private party on a charter boat. How many guys in his position would have done anything different? The only places I'd turn down a lap dance are in a church, a funeral home or an elementary school. If that's wrong, I don't wanna be right. Lock me up along with Daunte.

(OK, that's an exaggeration. I wouldn't do well in prison, to say the least.)

Same goes for Williams -- except instead of placing his hands on naked buttocks, he "had his hands on and touching the breasts of his female partner." Oh, the horror! The absolute horror of it all!

I have to believe Culpepper and Williams will get off (ahem), but then again I'm no lawyer. Maybe I should go back to school and specialize in lap dance law. Then I'll represent McKinnie and Smoot, boldly defending their right to remain freaky.

Ron Artest's Relentless Quest to Reclaim His Rightful Title as the Nuttiest S.O.B. In Sports: Twenty teams supposedly called the Pacers to inquire about Ron Artest, and 12-15 actually made offers. It's not surprising, as Artest is an All-Star with a relatively meager salary. Plus, he's a lockdown defender and a fierce competitor.

Case in point: Artest wasn't just going to sit back and let Terrell Owens take his King of Crazy crown without a fight. So he blindsides the Pacers with a trade demand, says he doesn't like playing for Rick Carlisle, then does an immediate about-face and asks to stay in Indiana. Top that, T.O.!

If the Pacers can't trade him, Donnie Walsh says he'll make Artest inactive with pay for the rest of the season. Personally, I'd send Artest to Toronto for a case of Moosehead and and a couple of seasons of SCTV on DVD. But if Walsh opts for the inactive route, both Artest and T.O. will have ample time on their hands. That's when we need to give these guys their own show. There may not be a place for it on America's No. 1 Network, but you're telling me this wouldn't be great for our corporate brethren at Spike? They couldn't fit Crazy Talk with Ron and T.O. into the schedule somewhere between World's Wildest Police Videos and whatever James Bond movie they're showing in prime time?

Incidentally, the first guest on Crazy Talk just has to be Clinton Portis. Or, more accurately, one of Portis' personas that he uses in his Thursday press conferences. My first choice would have been Southeast Jerome, but Portis' official website says Jerome has died under suspicious circumstances. Luckily, Sheriff Gonna Getcha is on the case. One can only hope that Dollah Bill, Dr. I Don't Know and the four-armed, one-eyed Bro Sweets are in no way involved in this heinous crime.

A couple of feedbacks from yesterday's "Black Friday" blog ...

I was concerned that my slobbering over Jennifer Love Hewitt may have violated some sort of sexual harassment guidelines, since we both work for America's No. 1 Network. My associate Abe writes, "JLH is so over she'd welcome the harassment. Here's what the ghosts are whispering: 'You're cancelled.'"

I have to admit, that's a lot funnier than anything I wrote yesterday. It reminds me of Carson Daly's celebrity roast a couple of years ago, which I'm ashamed to say I watched repeatedly. At the end, Daly got up and said something like, "I'd like to thank Jennifer Love Hewitt for being here. Hey, remember when we used to date, back when you were famous?"

Actually, the harshest JLH comment that night came from Sarah Silverman, who said, "People say that you're the next Audrey Hepburn. Does that scare you, knowing you're going to die of colon cancer?"

God, I love Sarah Silverman. Why she's with that no-talent clown Jimmy Kimmel is beyond me. Ironically, my second feedback contains a Kimmel reference. A longtime associate who shall remain anonymous is an employee of the Houston Texans. He takes issue with my comment that the guy on Ghost Whisperer has less job security than Dom Capers. He writes, "First Jimmy Kimmel, now Rehm?! Sigh … that’s life as a national punching bag."

I have no idea what Kimmel said, because I can't stand his show. I think Silverman summed it up best when she described it as "an infomercial for boring." But I'll give him credit for one thing: finally putting on a damn tie. I'm just amazed that it took him this long to realize that a guy who's going up against Leno and Letterman shouldn't have his collar open like an Atlantic City lounge singer. He started wearing a tie on Oct. 10, and his ratings have reportedly gone up 15 percent. Of course, crap plus 15 percent is still crap.

On another note, my two favorite stories tonight are both about baseball.

(Sweet monkey pie, doesn't that season ever END???)

1. Regarding Javier Vazquez being traded to the White Sox, the New York Times writes, "Vazquez got his wish to play closer to his home in Puerto Rico." Well, yeah, I guess Chicago is closer than Arizona, but does that really mean his wish came true? It's as if somebody on the Royals' roster complains that he wants to play for a better team, so they send him to the Pirates.

2. Here's Carl Everett's comment after signing with Seattle: "This will probably be the biggest challenge of my career. Coming out here, I'm about 2,505 miles away from home."

Not "about 2,500 miles" -- no, no, no. "About 2,505 miles." Somebody knows how to use Mapquest! (Or maybe not. I looked it up -- yeah, I have too much time on my hands -- and the actual distance from Seattle to Everett's hometown of Tampa, Fla., is 3157.43 miles. I mean, about 3157.43 miles.)

Of course, Everett is notoriously nutty. We're talking about a guy who thinks dinosaurs never existed, and that their fossils were "made by man." As Everett says, "You can make bones in the lab nowadays. And every year they come out with a different dinosaur movie, so does that mean that that dinosaur existed? A lot of things are being made that you would never see walk on this Earth."

Bravo, Carl Everett, for alerting us to this global conspiracy to promote the dinosaur movie genre. You're not fooling anybody, Steven Spielberg!

On to the night note:

Home: Mejia on Ron Artest
Mini: Prisco's Pro Bowl picks
Mini: Doyel on Devan Downey
Promo Box: Ratto on Milton Bradley

NFL: Week 15 Faceoff
Mini: Prisco's Pro Bowl picks
Mini: Judge on Tiki Barber

NBA: Mejia on Ron Artest

NHL: Goldstein on Marek Zidlicky
Mini: Power rankings

NCAA hoops: Doyel on Devan Downey
Mini: Doyel on Louis Orr

Autos: Owens on NASCAR disrespect

BANKED:
Prisco Pro Bowl cover: 9096808
Artest mini: 9096954

Among life's great mysteries -- Why are we here? Is there a God? Who on Earth actually enjoys Nickelback? -- the most perplexing to me is, "Why do shoppers line up outside stores at 4 a.m. on Black Friday, become enraged as they wait to get in, then knock down the elderly in a frantic rush to save a few bucks on crap they don't really need?"

That's exactly what happened right here in Fort Lauderdale. As the Sun-Sentinel reported, 73-year-old Josephine Hoffman was trampled at a BrandsMart USA:

"I was trying to get out of the way, but they knocked me down," said Josephine Hoffman of Coconut Creek, who was standing immediately outside the gate as a human wave rushed inside, carrying her along.

"I hit my head on the floor, and people stepped on me," said the woman, who was resting on a box of merchandise inside the store following the 7:30 a.m. incident. "I don't understand why people do these things."

I don't understand it, either. You think unless you shove your way into the store at the exact moment the doors open, they're going to run out of iPods? This is why I don't battle crowds when I'm Christmas shopping: I don't like most people. What do you tend to find in crowds? People.

Fortunately, I can do all of my shopping online. One of the perks of working for America's No. 1 Network (by the way, what happened to the tagline "America's Most Watched Network?" I thought that was much catchier) is that we get a discount at the CBS.com store.

I don't want to spoil the surprise, but my nieces can expect to receive Tickle Me Ed Bradley dolls, and my nephews will be getting the first season of Ghost Whisperer on DVD. If you're unfamiliar with the show, Jennifer Love Hewitt stars as Melinda Gorden, who is "able to see and talk to dead people -- earthbound spirits who have yet to cross over to the other side. Her other special gift is being ridiculously hot and helping millions of adolescent boys cross over to the other side of puberty."

OK, I made that last part up. And I've never actually seen the show, although I'm sure it's every bit as good as, say, Two and a Half Men. But having read the show's description on CBS.com, I'll tell you this -- David Conrad (who portrays Melinda's newlywed husband, Jim) has less job security than Dom Capers. Suppose the show survives for a couple of seasons, then the ratings start to slide. Do you think they'll react by bringing in a lovable kid (a la The Brady Bunch, Good Times, Growing Pains, The Cosby Show, etc.)? No, of course not -- they'll just murder Jim, then have a few "very special" episodes where he comes back from the grave to help Melinda track down the killers.

(Incidentally, the episode where Jim dies will mark the first time that Ghost Whisperer viewers of BOTH sexes will need to keep a box of tissue handy.)

Next thing you know, David Conrad is working at Starbucks and fighting back the tears every time one of his customers says, "Hey, aren't you that guy? The one who was on that show with the chick from I Know What You Did Last Summer? Damn, she's hot! Wow ... anyway, I'll have a grande mocha Frappuccino ... "

But I digress. Mowing down grandmothers isn't my style, so I'm going to kick back on my couch and log on to the CBS.com store, where I can find something for everyone on my shopping list ... even today's most prominent sports figures:

Kenny Rogers: Check out the first paragraph of this AP story:

DALLAS -- The Tigers worked to finalize a $16 million, two-year