This weekend was a historic moment for me. For the first time in my lifetime, a professional athlete has stepped up and delivered a promise based not on performance, but rather on his league's desire to have officials lengthen the series. Rasheed Wallace stepped into history when, after his Pistons lost game five to Miami, he said the NBA's referees would make sure Detroit won game six, so there would be a game seven.

I'll always remember where I was when I heard Rasheed say that. It's a special moment for me, just like when Willis Reed limped out onto the court because he was sure the refs wouldn't call him for a charge. It's like Mark Messier guaranteeing the Rangers would win game six against the Devils, because he knew the ref would give them the power play. Rasheed is Babe Ruth, but instead of pointing to the outfield, he's drawing his own postcard-sized strike zone for the umps.

You know, if Rasheed was so certain the NBA was going to ensure a seven game series, why didn't he just stay in Miami and wait for game seven to come back to him? You know why I don't listen to Rasheed Wallce's thoughts on game six? Because Rasheed scored just two more points than I did in game five.

Speaking of idiots, how about Browns tight end Kellen Winslow Junior The Second? Winslow tore his ACL on his motorcycle, riding around a parking lot in circles in the dark. In spite of what happened, you have to appreciate Winslow acting out the perfect metaphor for the Cleveland Browns.

Winslow was also wearing a helmet, but he didn't have it buckled. If he ever plays again, expect the NFL to fine him for a uniform violation.

The big story of this past weekend revolved around the Indy 500, and female driver Danica Patrick. She performed better than any female driver had ever done, and for the moment, silenced a throng of morning DJ's "woman driver" jokes.

Several other Indy drivers were complaining about Patrick after the race, saying she has an unfair advantage because of her lower weight. That's all we need, for a wave of bulimia to sweep through IRL. Can't you see racing teams signing up diuretic sponsorships? Pit crews handing over barf buckets? Midgets brought in to pinch-drive the cars in the final laps?

I'll say this, I'm not a big NASCAR race fan, I don't usually watch IRL, or F1, or Cart or any of the other racing. But when I heard Danica Patrick was going to be racing in the Indy 500...I didn't watch that either. A lot has been made about Patrick, and the ratings her appearance delivered. C'mon, she's not the next Jordan. She's the next Lance Armstrong. She's a standout athlete in a sport that no one pays attention to unless she's in it. Seven out of ten people don't remember who won the Indy 500 last year, and the other three think David Letterman was the winning driver.

Due to some kind of conversational power outage a few weeks ago, every sports talk radio show host in the country was talking about a new study that indicates sports teams who wear red have a better chance of winning. That's nothing new to me, I read it last year in "The Dumbest Things You've Ever Heard Magazine." Come on, did somebody actually get a government grant for this? I'm sure Example A was the Boston Red Sox. Unfortunately, they didn't get to Examples W-Z, which were the Arizona Cardinals, Cincinnati Reds, Atlanta Hawks, and Chicago Blackhawks.

The hits keep coming for the oversized men of baseball. Former Yankees monolith Jason Giambi has lost most of his endorsements, including his deals for soft drinks, deodorant, and shoes. Luckily for him, he still has his deals with "Dead Weight" brand barbells.

Giant Giants slugger Barry Bonds decided not to speak to the media anymore, and began to only issue statements through his website. Within a few weeks of that announcement, his website had become bloated and oversized, stuffed with information, and very confrontational.

Remember all of that hype and excitement about the Phoenix Suns? Never mind. In spite of having the MVP, Executive of the Year, and Coach Of The Year, the Suns still turned into the Mountain Time version of the Mavericks. Steve Nash is determined to prove that it takes more than just boundless energy and flyaway hair to win a championship.

ESPN has decided to decline their option on the National Hockey League's imaginary games next season. This not only ends the network's long-term relationship with the league, but also ends the league's long-term refusal to accept reality. When the network of poker, Playmakers, and the National Spelling Bee turns down your option, it may be time to rethink your battle plan. When you can't bump the thousandth rerun of that Dale Earnhardt movie, and you're less valuable than a television show featuring newspaper writers yelling at each other, you've got some self-evaluation to do.

And speaking of movies, for the first time ever, an NFL Franchise has made a film more exciting than their franchise. Trust me, by week six, Niners fans will be begging them to turn off the game and put the training video on the Jumbotron.

Labels: 49ers, Browns, NBA, NFL, NHL, Steroids