- Jason Terry rabbit-punches Michael Finley in the groin and gets suspended for a game. Udonis Haslem throws a mouthpiece a Joey Crawford, and has to sit out a game. Yet Reggie Evans grabs and pulls on the Kaman family jewels, and he only received a $10,000 fine. Someone needs to explain that to me.

- I also need clarification on why Justin Gatlin was four days into the talk-show circuit before judges realized that he actually wasn't the fastest man in the world due to a rounding error. Rounding? Isn't that something they teach in third grade?

- Regardless of what happens on Sunday, Lebron James has arrived. In a series in which very few people thought his team would win more than a single game, James has his team on the doorstep of the Eastern Conference Finals. Scottie Pippen said recently that Lebron is farther along in his development than Jordan was at this point in his career. I'm not sure that Scottie is wrong.

- Random thought: Dirk Nowitzki, Michael Finley and Steve Nash are all going to be involved in Game 7 matchups on Monday night... on three seperate teams. And if the Mavericks fall to the Spurs on Monday, is Nowitzki the Peyton Manning of the NBA?

- Which will happen first? Larry Brown will get bought out of his Knicks' contract, or Barry Bonds will finally hit #714?

- Truth be told, the events of the now-infamous hazing of the Northwestern womens' soccer team are far less tame than what happens on a typical weekend at a college campus. I'm not passing judgment, but if that incident was enough for school administrators to suspend the team, Northwestern needs to take a long look at its fraternities and sororities as well. It's only fair.

- I'm sure NHL Commissioner Gary Bettman is salivating at the thought of an Edmonton-Buffalo Stanley Cup Finals. Because I know I am. Two words: ratings bonanza. Five more words: wake me when it's over.

- In all seriousness, it's a shame that the NHL isn't more popular. I wish other people took the opportunity to enjoy some of the young talent in the league, specifically, Sidney Crosby. I was fortunate enough to watch him in person on two occasions this year, and I'm thoroughly convinced that Crosby is the best sports Sidney since Sidney Dean in "White Men Can't Jump."

- An addendum to my "Reality Bites" piece: No one deserves a reality TV show more that Adam "Pacman" Jones. Anyone who not only goes by the nickname Pacman, but has the actual logo of the video game embroidered into the headrests of his Cadillac XLR (a car which he loaned to a drug trafficker) needs to have a camera crew following him around 24 hours a day. At the very least, it would be more authentic than "Bonds on Bonds."

- I have no problem with Reggie Bush wearing #5 if he so chooses. The problem is that Adrian McPherson already owns that jersey number. So even if Bush does get the OK to wear #5, McPherson probably gets the right to negotiate some sort deal to give up that number. Granted, the city of New Orleans is probably the last place to pull the quasi-primadonna act of selling your number, but if I'm McPherson, I ask for way more than that outdoor kitchen Jeff Feagles got for "selling" #17 to Plaxico Burress.

- Speaking of New Orleans, I continue to be amazed by the resiliency of the residents of that city. Years and years of rebuilding work remains to be done, but with Saints fans buying nearly 55,000 season tickets this off-season, a clear message was sent to New Orleans' owner Tom Benson: Don't move our beloved Saints. Football is an escape for the residents of the hurricane-ravaged city - hopefully Mr. Benson doesn't deprive them of the enjoyment they receive every Sunday afternoon in the fall.

It. That certain undefinable quality that the great ones have and the not-so-great couldn't find with a search party. "It" is not about numbers - you can be an perennial All-Star and still not have it. It is more than just being clutch. It is more than just winning championships. It is that "dog", that "fire", that special something that you can't describe, but you know it when you see it. In some players, it's obvious. In others, not so much. We know on which side of the ledger men named Brady, Jeter and Kobe fall. But how do some other athletes stack up?

Roger Clemens has it.
There's a reason why teams are clamoring for the services of a 43-year-old pitcher who threatens retirement as often as Brett Favre. The same reason why these teams are offering him untold millions of dollars just to show up at the ballpark six or seven times a month. Because Roger Clemens has it.

I'm convinced that he could roll out of bed tomorrow, throw a (insert winner of Roger Clemens sweepstakes here) jersey on and strike out a dozen batters. He's simply that good. At an age when most hurlers are well into their post-baseball careers, Roger Clemens continues to be the best pitcher on the planet.

He doesn't have "it" just because he's good, however. Clemens has a competitive spirit that infects an entire team, even if he does only show up on the days that he pitches. The Houston Astros had been written off by most experts after a 19-32 record at the end of May, yet the team rode the right arm of Clemens all the way to the World Series. Only special players have the ability to lift their teams to greatness. Roger Clemens is Exhibit A.

Bobby Abreu doesn't have it.
Bobby Abreu is a rotisserie geek's dream. Every year, you can pencil him in for about a .300 average, 25-30 HRs, 100 RBI, 100 runs and 100 walks. And by the way, feel free throw in 30 steals a season for good measure. Yet the reigning Home Run Derby champ doesn't quite have "it", for a number of reasons.

In his defense, his reputation for not being a clutch hitter isn't completely deserved, as evidenced by his .322 career batting average with runners in scoring position. But he routinely fails to run out balls hit in the infield, and the next time he runs into a wall or dives for a ball in the outfield will be the first. Playing in a city that celebrates hustle just as much as success, Bobby Abreu is the most lackadasical player in a generation of Philadelphia athletes. Players who have "it" don't worry about their stats, they don't consistently take bad angles tracking down fly balls and they especially don't take plays off. Abreu does all that, and more.

The irony of it is that every manager in the major leagues would love to plug Abreu into the 3 hole in their lineup and watch the runs come in bunches. Actually, they would probably prefer to put him in the leadoff spot, because of his excellent speed and ability to work a count. The thing is, Abreu doesn't like batting leadoff, and has made it perfectly clear that he wouldn't welcome such a move on several occasions. See... lead-off hitters don't drive in runs. And if you're not driving in runs, you're usually not getting paid (unless you play for the Yankees). Bobby knows this, which is why he's content in the middle of the lineup. Not only does Abreu not have "it", he just doesn't get it. I don't think he ever will.

Dwyane Wade has it.
D-Wade is scary good. He plays alongside the most dominant big man since the days of Russell and Chamberlain, yet "The Big Aristotle" is quick to note that the Miami Heat are Dwyane Wade's team. Despite only being in his third year in the league, Wade has already established himself as a big-time playoff performer. He owned the Pacers in the Eastern Conference seminfinals two years ago. He put his mark on the New Jersey Nets in last year's playoffs. And he's doing more of the same this year. It isn't a stretch to say that the 24-year-old Chicago native is the best guard in the league not named Kobe.

It really shouldn't come as a surprise - Flash had "it" back in college. Let's not forget, on the strength of a triple-double (29 points, 11 assists, 11 rebounds) versus Kentucy in the regional final, he took Marquette to the 2003 Final Four. First of all, it was only the fourth triple-double in the history of the NCAA Tournament. Secondly, he played for Marquette. Kudos to any of you who can name another player on that Golden Eagles' squad.

(All due respect to Travis Diener, who actually got a decent amount of burn for the Orlando Magic this season.)

Not only does Wade have "it", he is it. He models for Sean John, appeared on the cover of NBA Live 2006, and is People Magazine's 50 Most Beautiful People. More impressive than all of that, he even makes Converse sneakers look slightly appealing. If you can move units of a brand that hasn't been worn since Larry Bird hung up his black-and-white Converse Weapons in 1992, then you definitely have "it."

Vince Carter doesn't have it.
Regardless of how tall you may be, if you're reading this right now, Vince Carter can dunk over you. This much, we know. With all apologies to LeBron, there is no player more explosive than Vince Carter. There is no one with as much body control around - or above - the rim as the man once dubbed Air Canada. Night after night, he fills both the stat sheet and the ESPN highlight film. Yet he doesn't have "it", either.

The thing is, I think Vince had it at one time. Back in 2001, he willed a mediocre Toronto Raptors squad to within one jumpshot of the Eastern Conference Finals. The shot was no good, the Sixers moved on, yet VC appeared to be on the cusp of greatness. And then, a little more than three years later, Vince Carter quit.

The 2004-05 Raptors had a decent amount of talent, with a core of Carter, Jalen Rose, Chris Bosh and Morris Peterson. But, for whatever reason, Vince simply didn't want to be there anymore, and basically forced his way out of the country. He played at half-speed, intentionally missed free throws, and confessed to all of it on the way out of town. Players who have "it" never quit regardless of the situation, much less admit to doing so. Allen Iverson has been waiting for the better part of a decade for the Sixers' front office to put complimentary pieces around him, but when he steps out onto the court, he gives nothing less than the maximum effort.

As fans, we can forgive Ron Artest's romp into the stands, Sprewell's choke of P.J. Carlesimo and Kobe Bryant's improprieties in a Colorado hotel room. But giving up on your team is another matter entirely. Quitting is the ultimate sin.

So while acrobatics of Air Canada will be replayed often in the months and years to come, we'll all still remember that just a few short years ago, Vince Carter gave up on his team, his fans, and ultimately, himself.

Reality television just doesn't do it for me. I could care less who the next American Idol is, I have no idea what the Flavor of Love tastes like, and if I want to look at an Average Joe, I'll stare in the mirror. You want Survivor? Drop 12 people in the middle of the Sahara Desert with no water, no money and no means of transportation, and declare that the first person who makes it back to Los Angeles is the winner. Now that's Survivor. There's no immunity challenges in the real world, my friends.

We live in an overly voyueristic society, yet there are very few whose lives I'd like to spy on. There are some, however, and they all happen to be athletes. These are my confessions.

Hanging Chad (Chad Johnson)

I have a strange obsession with Chad Johnson.

The phrase "strange obsession" probably brings to mind Kathy Bates, so perhaps I should rephrase that. I am a really big fan of Chad Johnson. So much so that I actually thought about writing him. Not e-mailing. Handwriting. Snail mail, 39 cents, the whole nine yards. No one writes anyone anymore - when was the last time you wrote a letter to anyone? No... not a thank-you card to Grandma. An actual letter. It's probably been a while.

Why does Chad Johnson deserve the letter treatment I used to reserve for athletes when I sent away baseball cards, begging for an autograph? Sure, he has a certain flair and style about him that a lot of the great wide receivers of this era have (Randy Moss, Terrell Owens, Keyshawn Johnson), but it goes beyond that. To borrow a phrase from SoCalSportsFan, Chad Johnson has that SWAGGER.

That attitude of "I'm going to score a touchdown on you and after I score, here is exactly what I'm going to do." He expects success every time he steps on the field, and demands nothing less of his teammates. And he has a little fun while doing it.

There's a special on Johnson running on the NFL Network where he's seen scarfing down a large McDonald's breakfast while his teammates are enjoying nutritious alternatives. He could be drinking a protein shake like the rest of them, but he's confident enough in his abilities (and work ethic) that he chooses to eat what he wants and still put in that effort to perform at the highest level.

Hey... maybe it's just me, but I think it would be pretty cool to hang out with any football player who threatened to bring a live deer out onto the field. And had sports fans wondering aloud if he'd actually do it.

Pimp A.I. (Allen Iverson)

He isn't - allegedly - throwing his naked wife out of the house any more. He isn't - factually - getting kicked out of any other T.G.I.Friday establishments after he and his crew partied excessively after a game (their new hangout is Houlihan's, in case you were wondering).

He is, however, still causing a stir behind closed doors. Apparently, Iverson continues to be lackadasical with his practice habits, and he came extraordinarily late to the Sixers' final home game of the season (as in, five minutes before tip-off). In his defense, he wasn't scheduled to play, but when he attempted to diffuse the situationn the following day, he claimed that he didn't know that it was Fan Appreciation Night. I'll give him a pass for that - it's hard to remember that Fan Appreciation Night is always the last home game of the season, especially if you've only been in the league for ten years.

Five years ago, this would have been an instant ratings smash. Strangely enough, it may be even more entertaining now since the formerly misunderstood point guard has (sort of) matured into a good-natured family man. Iverson has become so warm-hearted, he actually offered to kiss Sixers' general manager Billy King "on the mouth" after the team hired Maurice Cheeks next year. Now if that doesn't say love, I don't know what does.

Despite the fact that I've followed A.I. since he was at Georgetown, it would be very odd to see Allen Iverson do what I consider "normal things." Can you even picture Allen Iverson going to the store to buy diapers for his kids? I can't. That's why he needs his own show.

Gilbertology 101 (Gilbert Arenas)

The self-proclaimed "Dave Chappelle of the NBA" - who is known to bowl three to four hours a day in the off-season - just might be one of the most eccentric characters in sports entertainment. He is a man whose dream (other than playing in the League) was to work at McDonald's because he loved their fries so much. A player who attempted to make a free throw in a regular season game by - instead of shooting the ball - bouncing the shot off the floor first. The same man who also happens to play online poker during halftime of Wizards games. Hey, there's nothing wrong with a little gambling during your downtime, as long as you don't "John Daly" your money away. Even the greatest basketball player of all-time had a gambling vice.

Gilbert has his idiosyncrasies, but he also has a benevolent side as well. He tosses his jersey into the stands after every game, and was so touched by the story of young Andre McAllister (a 10-year-old who lost his famiily in a fire last year), he became a "Big Brother" of sorts to McAllister, hanging out with him and getting him a job as a Wizards' ball boy.

Arenas is wildy successful, yet still thinks he's not getting the respect that he deserves. Arenas was disappointed (and rightfully so) that he was only named to the 2006 Eastern Conference All-Star team as a replacement for Jermaine O'Neal. He's still ticked off (again, rightfully so) that he lasted until the 31st pick in the 2001 NBA Draft. And he wears the number zero because he holds on to the notion that critics believed he wouldn't play at all at the University of Arizona.

So a man who is as mercurial as Gilbert Arenas should make for interesting television. With that in mind, pull up a desk, grab your Trapper Kepper and get ready for Gilbertology 101. Entertainment in a class of its own.

The flowers are blooming, the birds are chirping, and the temperature is just about perfect every day. That's right, kids - it's prom season. The time of the year when limousines are hard to find, corsages double in price, and it takes two hours to get a haircut if you didn't make an appointment.

Ah... the senior prom. The last chance for young adults to style and profile amongst their peers before going off to college, or off to work at some local factory because their mother's cousin's nephew's sister can hook them up with a job there.

With the plethora of NBA pre-draft camps and private workouts on the horizon, it's also prom season for this year's college (and international) prospects who are hoping to make a living in the Association. And with that, let's take a look at some of these hopefuls in the form of those senior superlatives found in your old high school yearbook.

Most Likely To Succeed: Adam Morrison, Gonzaga
The one thing that we all know about a draft is that... we don't know anything about a draft. No matter how much time and effort goes into the scouting process, every single selection is a shot in the dark. But if there is one certainty in the 2006 NBA Draft, it would be Adam Morrison.

Morrison was scoring option #1, #2 and #3 for the Gonzaga Bulldogs in 2005-06, yet he still led the nation in scoring with 28.1 points per game on nearly 50% shooting. The comparisons to Larry Bird may be a little misguided, buy make no mistake - Adam Morrison will be a productive NBA player for the next decade. He may not be the best prospect to come out of this draft if you were to revisit this crop three years from now - odds are, he won't even be next year's Rookie of the Year. But it's a safe bet that, barring injury, Morrison will be good for 12-14 points, 4-5 rebounds... and a handful of "emotional outbursts."


Biggest Flirt: Rudy Gay, Connecticut
The talent is there. You know it. The problem is, you don't always see it. At times, every move he makes looks effortless - not the slightest bit of energy wasted as he takes it strong to the rack. Yet at times, he appears to be going through the motions. He'll put up 22 and 8 in an early February contest versus Syracuse, yet go 1-for-6 in a game his Huskies barely eked out over Louisville on March 4. One game after Gay fouls out after 29 minutes in a loss at Marquette (8 points, 7 rebounds, 5 assists, 5 turnovers), he is the catalyst (19 points, 8 boards) in a 67-66 win over eventual national runner-up LSU.

The Scottie Pippen comparisons aren't terribly far off. The Scottie Pippen consistency is, however. Granted, he played on one of the more talented teams in recent college history, so he wasn't necessarily relied on to be the go-to guy for Calhoun's Huskies. Even still, that killer instinct that all of the great ones seem to have doesn't appear to be there. If a coach can light that fire, however, we may all be in for something special.

Most Athletic: Tyrus Thomas, LSU
He blocks shots into the second row, he runs the floor like a gazelle, and has a vertical leap not seen since the days of Earl Manigault, the NYC playground legend known for snatching quarters off the top of the backboard. So, of course, the NBA talent evaluators are drooling at the mere prospect of Tyrus Thomas playing for their team.

The problem is that Tyrus Thomas is raw. Not just Eddie Murphy Raw - raw like a tray of gourment-quality sashimi. Thomas only started playing organized basketball in his junior year of high school, and has yet to fully grow into his 6-9, 215-pound frame. After redshirting his freshman season due to a neck injury, the 2005-06 season served as Thomas's coming out party - averaging 12 points and 9 rebounds (shooting a mind-boggling 60.8% from the field) on the way to becoming the SEC freshman of the year. So technically speaking, he's only played organized ball for three full seasons. But when you're "long", can "jump out of the gym", and are only 19 years old, it's not called being "raw." It's called "potential." And Tyrus Thomas has it in spades.


Most Intellectual: J.J. Redick, Duke
J.J. Redick is one of the purest shooters in the history of basketball. He moves without the basketball as well as Rip Hamilton, and he knows exactly when to step up in clutch time, single-handedly willing his Duke Blue Devils to victory on several occasions. Simply put, there haven't been too many players in recent memory that have played the game "smarter" than Redick has. But to NBA general managers, smart and $3 will get you nothing but a gallon of gasoline. Intelligence is meaningless unless you have the athleticism or potential to back it up.

Although Redick has greatly improved his ball-handling and shot-creating skills over the past two seasons, he doesn't seem to have the foot speed to keep up with the typical NBA 2-guard. And at 190 pounds, he'll probably need to bulk up a bit or else he will consistently get banged around on the defensive end. That all being said, it's hard to pass on a guy who is a legitimate threat out to 25 feet. In fact, the only thing he does extremely well is shoot. But in today's NBA, guys like that are hard to find.

Most Dependable: Mardy Collins, Temple
East of the Mississippi - make that "east of Gonzaga University" - no player was as singularly responsible for his team's success as Mardy Collins from Temple University. 40 minutes per game? Check. Nearly 17 points a contest? Check. Exceptional defense, on-court leadership, excellent ball-handling? Check, check and check.

At 6-6, Mardy Collins isn't as spectacular as Tyrus Thomas, and he doesn't shoot as well as J.J. Redick (although that's partly a by-product of John Chaney's Princeton-esque offense), but he's a solid contributor who fills up the stat sheet. He rebounds well for a point guard (4.7 per game), doesn't turn the ball over (a 2-to-1 assist to turnover ratio), and finished #6 in the nation in steals at 2.8 per game. The fact that there are a dearth of quality point guards in this year's draft bodes well for Collins, who will probably wind up at the tail end of the lottery. In my opinion, whatever team is fortunate enough to draft Collins is going to have a solid point guard option for many years to come.

Earlier this season on the Sopranos, Dr. Melfi told Tony that 26 is the new 21. She was referring to the maturity level of young adults, but I also spun it in a different direction. In sports, there are standards in our minds in regards to greatness, yet there are others making their mark which could redefine what these standards are. Everything old is new again.

Reggie Bush is the new... Reggie Bush

I'm not old enough to have seen Gale Sayers play. But I feel confident enough to say that Reggie Bush did some things at Southern Cal that haven't been done before. Ever. It would be unfair to compare Reggie Bush to anyone - he's just that good. Try as Charley "Hop-Along" Casserly might, it's darn near impossible to justify taking a defensive player over the single most electrifying offensive talent in a generation. If the Texans don't get this whole draft thing figured out soon, they'll become the new Clippers.

Albert Pujols is the new... Ken Griffey, Jr.
Pujols is disgustingly good. There really aren't enough superlatives to describe how talented the 26-year-old from the Dominican Republic is. According to baseball-reference.com, the player Pujols most resembles at this point in his career is Joe DiMaggio. And, last time I checked, Joe Dimaggio was pretty good. "Fat Albert" is clearly the best player in baseball, and is on pace to break all sorts of records - if he stays healthy. Let's not forget that in the not-too-distant past, there was another player poised to rewrite the records books, but injuries denied Ken Griffey, Jr. his chance to be included with the all-time greats. We can only hope that the same doesn't happen to Pujols.

Kobe Bryant is the new... Ric Flair

Let me explain. Hate him or love him (and there is no gray area with him), the man who calls himself Black Mamba has his swagger back. Yes, his team just blew a 3-1 lead against the Phoenix Suns in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs. Yes, he hasn't won a playoff series sans Shaq. Yes, he will forever have the stain of the incident in Colorado attached to his name. But there really isn't any dispute over who the best player in the league is. And the previously young, cocky, street-cred lacking teenager has morphed into... a more mature, cocky, street-cred lacking adult. Isn't this what we expected from the 18-year-old who refused to play anywhere but in LA? He still comes off as arrogant, he still doesn't really like Shaq, but his ability on the basketball court almost makes you forgive all of his transgressions. Not only that - he can actually be an entertaining guy when he wants to be. This past week, he said that Raja Bell wasn't hugged enough as a kid and suggested that the two of them settle their differences in the Ultimate Fighting Championship octagon. If he keeps going down this road, I expect him to come to the arena in sequined robes.

Lebron James is the new... young Michael Jordan
A young superstar on the cusp of greatness. A marketer's dream. A supporting cast away from immortality. The face of the league. Sells jerseys and sneakers by the truckload. Yet gives the blandest, most antiseptic interviews ever. I love Lebron, but has he had a single memorable quote in the three years he's been in the league? Give me Kobe and the Octagon any day.

Ryan Howard is the new... Dick Allen
There's a reason why the Phillies traded Jim Thome away in the off-season. Ryan Howard is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. The comparisons to former Phillies first baseman Dick Allen are right on the mark - Howard is an impressive slugger who is capabale of launching 500-foot home runs with a flick of the bat. It's a good bet that the reigning NL Rookie of the Year will add a few more pieces of hardware to his trophy case.

O.J. Mayo is the new... Lebron James
You may not know the name O.J. Mayo. But basketball aficionados know the name. advertising agencies know the name. Sneaker companies know the name. Even Division I coaches know the name, even though none of them believe he'll make more than a brief stay at their (or any other) institution of higher learning. For those unaware, Ovinton J'Anthony Mayo - a junior at North College Hill in Cincinnati, OH - is widely regarded as the best high school basketball player in the Class of 2007. 6-foot-5, 205 pounds, the body control of Vince Carter and the court vision of Lebron James. He received his first recruting letter from Marshall University. While in the seventh grade. Yes, the talent is undeniable, yet due to the NBA's new collective bargaining agreement, it won't be until 2008 before Mayo dons an NBA uniform. Somehow, I have a feeling that it'll be worth the wait.

Michelle Wie is the new... Annika Sorenstam
It's a shame that womens' golf isn't a higher profile sport, or else everyone could appreciate the ridiculousness that is Annika Sorenstam. 67 LPGA wins (9 majors), 8 Player of the Year awards, an NCAA Championship, and one induction into the World Golf Hall of Fame. And she's still only 35. As impressive as those achievements may be, they'll most likely only be targets for Michelle Wie to shoot for. She's already proven that she can hang with the men, and she's more than made her mark on the LPGA tour, with three top-three finishes in her last four majors. And she's still only 16. The next 19 years should be fun to watch.