WASHINGTON, D.C.  Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was placed on the twenty-day disabled list by President Barack Obama today after she suffered a broken elbow, and former Secretary of State Madeline Albright was signed to a one-year contract to take her spot in the cabinet.

"I landed on my funny bone."

"Madeline Albright will give us the Secretary of State experience we need as we come out of the All-Star break," Obama told the Sporting News.  "She's a seasoned white female with experience handling the weird erotic obsessions of Arab dictators."

"Have I still got it?  Yes.  Was that an intelligent question?  No."

Clinton will undergo Tammy Wynette surgery to repair her elbow, and will play winter ball in less-troubled areas of the world to rehab her diplomatic skills.  "I'm thinking we'd send her to a Baltic state, somewhere where she'll be able to ease her way back to the big leagues," said White House Chief of Staff Rahm Emanuel.  "You can't expect her to stare down Kim Jong-il on her first day back, or tell the difference between Iraq and Iran."

Kim Jong-il baseball shirt.

Albright, the first female Secretary of State, served from 1997 until 2001.  Her tenure was distinguished by mash notes sent to her through diplomatic pouch from Libyan strong man Muammar Qaddafi, and by the fact that she was only woman in a three-block radius of the Oval Office whom President Clinton did not hit on during his eight years in the White House. 

Muammar Qaddafi, at the release party for his "Thriller" album.

Clinton has three and a half years left on a four-year contract, and would then be eligible for free agency. 

"That's a lovely dress.  I've always wanted to see the Alps."

"Obama might try to work a sign-and-trade deal with another western power on the eve of the 2012 elections," said George Will, who writes about both baseball and politics.  "Maybe send her to Germany in exchange for Andrea Merkel and an undersecretary of commerce to be named later."

FARMINGDALE, N.Y.  The Black Course at Bethpage State Park here is a flurry of activity as groundskeepers prepare for the 110th U.S. Open, which begins tomorrow.  "I got a good lie on the 18th," says Phil Mickelson of his last practice round.  "Then I went in the clubhouse and heard a better one."

Black Course, Bethpage State Park

Mickelson is referring to the purported scores of Kim Jong-il, North Korean dictator, who qualified for the open by shooting a 17 on the 18-hole Baekdu Mountain Pines Course.  "Why is this so hard to believe?" said North Korean spokesman Son Bong Sun.  "Maybe if your Tiger Woods would practice more instead of hocking meritricious capitalist gew-gaws in commercials he could bring his score down, too."

"Nice shot, self!  Thank you, self!"

Both certain exempt golfers, mainly touring pros, and amateurs are eligible to compete in the U.S. Open.  Those who are not exempt must qualify through local and sectional play.  Kim shot a 71 over 72 holes of play to win the Glorious Triumph of the People Pyung Wah Invitational in May, leading some to question the accuracy of his scores.

Pyung-Wah Repression 2LE Sedan:  First place winner receives one, runner-up gets two.

"I was very fortunate out there today," Kim said as he relaxed in the clubhouse afterwards.  "Somebody in my foursome questioned my drop on sixteen, and he will work at hard labor for the rest of his life while his daughters scrub spare rib trays at the Supreme Worker's Cafeteria in Pyongyang."

Relaxing after a round:  Who says these guys aren't athletes?

The official web site of the North Korean Ministry of Information lists a number of Kim's records that have been called into question over the years, but which have survived challenges because the government refuses to open its books to sports writers.  "I can see how he maybe won the 1984 Outland Trophy," the award given to the outstanding interior lineman in college football each year, says Dave Morrissey of the Houston Chronicle.  "I have my doubts about his gold medal in the women's pommel horse at the 1996 Olympics."

ORLANDO.  Cavaliers' small forward LeBron James was in stable condition this morning after a team of doctors worked through the night to graft skin from his calves and buttocks onto his upper arms to give him critically-needed space for more tattoos.

James:  "I'm thinking of adding a Chinese take-out menu to my right bicep."

"LeBron should be all right," said Dr. Amelia Rogers, Head of Plastic Surgery at Florida Specialty Hospital.  "We were able to give him another nine square inches of epidermis in the bicep areas, which will permit him to mark up his body like a toddler's coloring book for many years to come."

"See if you can squeeze in one more 'Mom' tat!"

James' tattoos are the subject of academic attention, and an interactive video time-line has been established to permit scholars to report new body images as they appear. 

"Void where prohibited by law" and "Limit one per customer" tattoos.

The NBA does not keep statistics on tattoos, although it is considering a "tattoo cap" similar to the salary cap in place under the league's collective bargaining agreement.   Teams could trade a heavily-tattooed center for a guard from Brigham Young, thereby freeing up space to make acquisitions or sign a draft pick.

Wallace:  "Don't you go discovering any new solar system on me, Jack!"

Other NBA players expressed sympathy when they learned of James' hospitalization.  "Man, that day is coming for all of us," said Rasheed Wallace of the Pistons, who has a tattoo of the sun on his right shoulder.  "Suppose they discover a solar system close to ours?  I might not have enough room left for another luminous celestial body."

"I can't believe he missed two ki throws!"

Tattoos were invented by the Maoris, a Polynesian aboriginal group native to New Zealand.  The Maoris play a game called "Ki-o-rahi," which is noted for imaginative handling and passing of a "ki" or ball.  They are great admirers of Speedy Claxton, a point guard for the Atlanta Hawks, and follow the NBA by short-wave radio. 

Maori tribal leader Nga Tamatoa wished James a speedy recovery in a letter delivered to him in the hospital this morning.  "May the Great Small Forward heal quickly," Tamatoa wrote, "so that you may acquire much bling to the end of your days."

Don't come 'round here looking for the fresh, clean, family-friendly content this site is known for this afternoon.  I'm taking off at 3:30 to watch my kid pitch what may be the final start of his high school career.  He will take the mound today with a 3-0 record and three home runs last week alone!  He hit them, I mean; he didn't give them up.

It's an occasion that causes normally hard-bitten sports writers--and Boston has them by the pallet-load--to turn sentimental and wax rhapsodic.  I have to say, now that I'm in their shoes, I can't blame them.  My kid didn't get a scholarship and will thus try to walk on when he gets to college, but he may never play another competitive game.

Premature babi--hey, who gave them Sprite, the refreshing lemon-lime soft drink?

He's 6'2" and weighs 165 pounds, but when he came into this world, the prospects that he would ever develop into such a strapping young man were slim.  He was born a month premature; for an infant boy, that means his lungs were dangerously underdeveloped.

"Is there anything you can do about it?" I asked the doctor who delivered him. 

"We recommend that they go on drugs right away," she replied.

"What kind of drugs?" my wife asked nervously.

"Steroids," the doctor said.

Jose Canseco:  He, uh, does a lot of push-ups.

I looked at my wife, and I could tell she was with me 100%.  "Go ahead," I said, "Double the normal dosage."

Thanks to the miracles of modern science, my boy was out of the incubator in a few days, but we kept him on the medication.  No point in taking chances when a kid's lungs are at risk.

It paid off, let me tell you.  By the time he started T-ball he was hitting tape-measure shots, 565-foot home runs over everything.  Eventually, we lowered the dosage as the 'roid-rage fines began to get expensive.  I'll never forget the look on the face of the teenaged umpire who called him out on a ball that just barely grazed the outside corner of the plate.  My kid chased him back to his crappy Honda Civic and flipped it over--at the age of 10!  That's the kind of upper-body strength you need to hit with power to the opposite field.

As any parent of a young athlete will tell you, a lot of sacrifice goes into the making of a kid who can play at the Division I level.  There was the $45 per half hour hitting coach, the pseudo-religious earrings a la Barry Bonds, the heavy chains that look like they could have been lifted off the neck of a Rottweiler, or an investment banker's second wife.  But it's all part of the great American tradition of baseball.  

"I don't really like you, but I'm 0 for 21 in June."

I don't mean to suggest that my kid's career has been one long home run trot around the basepaths.  Like any baseball player, he's had his ups and downs.  I remember when he was 11 and started the season 0-for-June for the Orthwein Insurance Agency A's.  One night I heard him sobbing to himself as I walked past his bedroom.

"What's the matter, kiddo?" I asked as I sat down beside him and tousled his hair.

"I've lost it, dad," he said through his sobs.  "My career is over."

"No it's not," I said reassuringly.  "You're just going through a dry spell."

He calmed down a bit.  "You think so?" he asked.

"Sure.  What you need is a slumpbuster!"

"What's that?"

"Well, it's a girl who you might not really like as a friend because she hasn't got the greatest personal hygiene or something, but you, uh, decide to . . . to spend some time with her to change your luck."

He was silent for a moment.  "So somebody like Susan van de Kamp?"

"Is that the chubby girl in your class who's always wearing her Little Dutch Girl outfit to school on Show 'n Tell Day?"

"That's her," he said.  "She picks her butt in line to the cafeteria."

My eyes misted over.  "She sounds perfect.  Why don't you give her a whirl."

"Like how?"

There are some things you can't coach, but I gave it a try.  "You do something to make her think you like her."

"What do the big-leaguers do?" he asked me.

"They, uh, invite them over to spend the night, sort of like you and Timmy Salmon last Friday."

"Yuk!" he said, clearly repulsed by the thought.

"Don't worry," I said.  "At the Little League level, all you have to do is throw a spitball at her."

NEW YORK.  The New York Board of Rabbis today agreed to reschedule two Jewish holidays to accommodate the National Football League, which assigned back-to-back home games to the New York Jets on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur this fall.

"I'd feel differently if we weren't talking about the Patriots."

"I think we 'get it'," said Rabbi Gershom Kohler, bowing to pressure from the most successful sports league in America.  "We're constantly being accused of controlling the banks and the media, and I don't want to be accused of controlling the AFC East Division race."

"A brocht su dir!"

Judaism was founded around 2,000 B.C. and currently has approximately 13.2 million members.  The National Football League was formed in 1920 and currently consists of only 32 teams, but it has the most lucrative television contract of any major religion.

"It's up-and it's good!"

Judaism has spun off two other major world religions, Christianity and Islam, while the National Football League's only attempt at proselytization, NFL Europa, ended in failure in 2007.  American football crusaders abandoned their quest to conquer the Holy Land when soccer hooligans routed the Hamburg Sea Devils in the Battle of the HSH Norbank Arena.

"Oy-we're missing the kickoff!"

Under the revised schedule, Rosh Hashanah would be scheduled during the Jets' "bye week" when the team will be idle, and Yom Kippur will be moved to the Sunday after the Super Bowl, the date when the league's all-star game, the Pro Bowl, was formerly played. 

Hamburg Sea Devils:  Throwback jerseys still available.

"Moving the Pro Bowl was the right thing to do," said NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell.  "Most advertisers blow all their money on the Super Bowl, so there's not a lot of revenue left by then."