Why did Barack Obama cross the road?

To detain the chicken indefinitely without charges or access to a lawyer!!!

You don’t understand, OJ: people are paying to see me.

To the surprise of only those who believe in Santa Claus, ESPN is reporting that surefire NBA lottery pick O.J. Mayo received gifts—including hotel rooms, clothes, and a flat screen TV—from representatives of sports agents while he was at USC. Today, we get NCAA president Myles Brand’s reaction:

“This is not acceptable behavior and on occasion, it’s illegal. You get thrown in jail if you rob a bank, but people keep robbing banks. The fact of the matter is these kinds of activities are unacceptable, they are unfortunate. We expect the schools to enforce the rules and protect our student-athletes.”

Brand added that he’d like to see the NBA set up a rule whereby players are required to stay in college “two, three, or four years.”

While I can’t find the original article, it appears that, as of 2006, the NCAA was paying Myles Brand $895,000 a year. (Similarly, USC head coach Tim Floyd has a base salary of $850,000.) That same year, Brand delivered a speech defending the NCAA’s pursuit of increased revenues and dismissing complaints that the association’s commercialism was inappropriate. “Nonsense,” he said. ” ‘Amateur’ defines the participants, not the enterprise.”

Brand is right that it’s “unacceptable” for Rodney Guillory, the guy buying Mayo the gifts, to try to funnel the payments through allegedly non-profit shadow corporations. But remember that the NCAA is a tax-exempt organization–one with roughly $500 million a year in revenue and regular million dollar payouts for besuited blowhards. It provides vicarious thrills and bragging rights to the privileged segment of American society that call themselves alumni through a business model that compensates the athletes—the main attraction—at a tiny fraction of their market value. (Mayo could make a pretty compelling case that the value of his scholarship is less than .5% of what he would have made with an NBA contract and endorsement deals last year.) And of course, out of his boundless magnanimity and benevolent paternalism, Brand would like to protect guys like Mayo by requiring them to stay in school for four years.

So I say, here’s to you, O.J. Mayo. Way to get yours. Don’t bother denying it. Don’t act demure or contrite. Be honest: tell them Myles Brand and the rest of the NCAA are a bunch of wrinkled, profiteering, bloviating douche bags, peddling nostalgia for pennies on the dollar that should be yours. The next time some inflated sports-world muckraker confronts you with evidence that you got paid, tell ‘em the truth. You’re a baller and you want to get paid like one.

A few years ago, I spent a summer in Atlanta, and I recall the MARTA ride to the airport passing a large, dilapadated building on the side of which was spraypainted something like “The End Times Is Near!”

Well, with financial markets and cranes collapsing, I figured it was time to check in with the world’s foremost rapturologists at Rapture Ready’s Rapture Index to learn whether the End Times are in fact arriving. It turns out that even with today’s financial collapses, the Rapture Index is only at 168. Yesterday’s 169 was actually our high for the year—and was still well off the all-time high of 182 on September 24, 2001. Oh, how I yearn for the halcyon days of December 1993, when we heathens felt safer with the Rapture Index at an anemic 53!

The number of variables in the Rapture Index makes me wonder whether End Times forecasting has spurred a cottage industry of amateur statistical analysis the way baseball and basketball have; i.e. whether there are a bunch of believers coming up with their own (unprovable) formulas at home. What a hobby—endless fun in an ending world!

Yesterday, Senator Arlen Specter (R, PA) appeared at a news conference to tell the world that New England Patriots’ coach Bill Belichick had been “illegally” videotaping other teams’ signal communications since 2000.

“We have a right to have honest football games,” said Specter.

On Tuesday, that same Senator Specter had a chance to vote for an amendment to the amended Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA). The Amendment would strip the Act’s provision of immunity to telecom companies that allowed the National Security Agency to monitor customers’ electronic communications without a warrant. One of these companies is already being sued. Senator Specter voted against the Amendment, but neglected to call a press conference to discuss it. (An avowed opponent of waterboarding, Senator Specter also voted yesterday against a measure that would prohibit waterboarding.)

If you’re wondering why Senator Specter voted against the immunity-stripping Amendment, you can have a look at the statute under which the companies might be liable here; the statute that some (wrongly) say justifies the wiretaps here; and the amendment itself (along with a handy roll call) here. You can find something called the Fourth Amendment here. And you can read about his proposed blame-the-taxpayers compromise here.

As for the rules that Specter alleges Bellichick broke for seven years, they’re in the NFL’s “Game Operations Manual.” You know, the one they taught you about in your high school civics class. As far as I can tell, you can’t find it online. I wonder why.

We have a right to honest football games.

The league Bill Simmons famously called the “No Balls Association” because of its teams’ reluctance to make bold trades has been fairly popping lately, with seemingly few blocks left to bust after Pau Gasol-to-the-Lakers, Shaquille O’Neal-to-the-Suns, and now, it seems, Jason Kidd-to-the-Mavs.

Really, other than Harry Reid’s ongoing disastrous reign as Senate Majority Leader, can you think of a better example of panic button shot-calling than today’s NBA execs? Shaquille O’Neal (Emeritus) is a decent offensive player who can’t guard anybody, and the same holds for today’s Jason Kidd. Meanwhile, the players for whom they were traded (Shawn Marion, Devin Harris) were among the best defenders at their positions. Do O’Neal and Kidd come with time machines? At this point, teams are trading merely for reputations.

Sure, this Laker lineup looks like a Dynasty:

Kobe Bryant (offensive virtuoso, lockdown defender)
Pau Gasol (high & low post master, rebounder)
Lamar Odom (jack of all trades & 6′11″)
Andrew Bynum (along with Dwight Howard, the best young center in the game)
Jordan Farmar (highly underrated PG–quick, good defender, accurate 3 pt shooter)
Ronny Turiaf (Bo Outlaw with braids)
Trevor Ariza (defends like a young Michael Cooper; dunks like a young Vince Carter)
Sasha Vujacic (big guard, shoots threes, can handle point)
Vlad Radmanovic (dresses well, seven feet tall?)

But it’s looking even more dynastic now that teams with relatively young cores (such as Dallas, with Harris, Nowitzki, and Howard) are throwing it all away for the dudes whose posters populated the childhood bedroom walls of today’s better players. Perhaps Portland, New Orleans, or Utah (or, in fantasy-land, the young Supes) can piece together enough of a squad to keep this team from winning three or four titles before it’s done–and of course there are tons of variables that could derail the Lakers–but right now, it looks like the Lake Show for a long time.

If there’s an NBA team that most resembles the Sonics, it is unfortunately not our immediately Southern neighbors, the similarly youthful Portland Trailblazers, whose front office has spent the last several years running circles around ours. Nor is it the fellow bottom-dwelling Miami Heat, who at least have a championship to show for their current train wreck. Nor is it the tragic Memphis Grizzlies, who would have been booted from a fantasy league for collusion after their last trade. No, the team that most resembles ours is the Minnesota Timberwolves, that sad bunch in the Land of 10,000 Lakes.

Like us, Wolves fans have been beaten senseless by a senseless front office. While Wally Walker (with some help from Rick Sund) signed Jim McIlvaine, traded Shawn Kemp for Vin Baker, and drafted Robert Swift over Al Jefferson, Kevin McHale signed Joe Smith to an illegal contract that cost his team $3.5 million and five 1st-round draft picks. For this and other mishaps, McHale’s been pilloried across the land, most memorably by “The Sports Guy” Bill Simmons in his hilarious Atrocious GM Summit.

Since True Hoop published an e-mail from a fan who got booted from Key Arena for voicing his displeasure to a luxury-boxed Clay Bennett the other day, I figured it was time to share some similar stories I received from a deep Minnesota source who was not eager to go on the record. So consider these accounts unsubstantiated:

1) There’s an unwritten directive within the Wolves organization to crack down on fans carrying anti-McHale signs. If a fan is found with such a sign, not only is it confiscated, but the fan is kicked out. By contrast, a fan who brought a sign mocking Ruben Patterson (a convicted sex offender) with the following text “Ruben the rapist Patterson” was allowed to stay, because, as Celebrity Jeopardy’s Sean Connery has taught us, the terms “the rapist” and “therapist” are easily confused, so the fan may have intended the latter. “The space between them was small enough,” according to the Wolves.

2) Just to give a sense of McHale’s skills as a talent scout, there’s this tale of one of his former first-round picks: Ndudi Ebi was selected by the Timberwolves in the first round of the 2003 draft. While Ebi didn’t stick around the league, he did manage to lose badly in a game of one-on-one to a 6′2″ Target Center security guard.

Somebody sign that security guard!

There you have it, Sonics fans. Misery loves company, so I hope it helps to know that you’re not alone.

When word came down of Rudy Giuliani’s departure from the Republican primary race, I thought of his chief foreign policy adviser, Norman Podhoretz, and Axl Rose’s tortured wail from “Sweet Child o’ Mine” echoed in my head:

Where do we go? Where do we go now? Oh oh oh oh…

Indeed, where does Norman go? We’re down to the Final Four, there’s plenty of votes to be cast, and Iran remains uninvaded by democracy or American bombs. Norm finds himself in a position similar to that of Tiki Barber, who left football a year too early and now must watch his erstwhile teammates play for a Super Bowl title.

Sugar cube?

Yup, Norm hitched his battle wagon to the wrong war horse. Will he be forced to sit on the sidelines as a result? It’s not like Norm or his buddies to hype a war and then sit it out.

Ever get the feeling these modern sons of Sparta would’ve found themselves on the wrong side of a cliff back in the day?

While three of the remaining candidates can boast of statements or votes that hint at an answer to Norm’s hopes and prayers, there is one whose hawkishness is backed up by an actual record of going to war: Senator John McCain. The bellicose Arizonan should’ve been Norm’s choice all along. After all, Rudy’s real enemies are everyone who disagrees with him and/or got capped by New York’s Finest. By contrast, John was into bombing fools before bombing fools was cool.

So how ’bout it, Norm? Pride’s a bitch, but you gotta swallow it. Give John a call. It’s too late for Tiki, but you’ve still got a chance.

(Just thought I’d follow the rule that sports headlines must contain a bad pun.)

So it looks like the Mariners are going to remain in panic mode and sign Carlos Silva to a 4 year, $44 million contract. Silva and Jarrod Washburn will form a $20 million, two-headed monster in the middle of the rotation that really should be in the back of the rotation. If both are healthy and pitch full years, the Mariners will be paying roughly $100,000 for every strikeout they throw. Meanwhile, the Indians will be paying about $9 million for the full year services of C.C. Sabathia and roughly $300,000 for Fausto Carmona, and the Tigers $1 million for Justin Verlander and $4.5 million for Jeremy Bonderman. All of them are better than Washburn and Silva.

The point I’m getting at (in however a roundabout fashion) is that free agent pitching is generally overpriced and developing pitching from your own farm system (or someone else’s) is a much better bang for your buck. (Of course, if you have tons of money–which the Mariners do not–sometimes it pays to play the market, as was the case for Boston this year.) Billy Beane, the crown prince of squeezing the most out of a payroll, has recognized that for years in Oakland, and that’s why he didn’t re-sign players like Hudson, Mulder, and Zito. Only Hudson has come close to living up to his subsequent free agent contract.

The Mariners have the 7th highest payroll in baseball, but the team gets a relatively free pass from its fans for its inability to turn the money into anything approaching a contending team. It fails to develop its young talent because of a fetish for experience and “proven veterans” (proven to do what?): Keep in mind that batting practice pitcher Horacio Ramirez was acquired at the cost of young talent Rafael Soriano, who had a superb year as a reliever in Atlanta, with a WHIP of .86.

If the Mariners don’t want to chance it with Cha Seung Baek, Brandon Morrow, Ryan Rowland-Smith, Ryan Feirebrand, et. al. (I’m guessing at least one or two would turn out to be serviceable starters), then perhaps they should sign some pitchers to 1-year, stopgap contracts and continue to develop their young talent. This way, in a year, when Felix Hernandez is even better, Adam Jones is seasoned, Brandon Morrow has a third pitch, Jeff Clement is ready to come up, and Adrian Beltre and Ichiro Suzuki are still in their relative primes, the team will have some money to fill in the gaps and have a true shot at a World Series. (Dave Cameron at USS Mariner designs such a scenario in this post.) In the meantime, they’ll be no worse off than if they signed Silva.

Who says torture can’t be funny?

Monday, December 10th
-The Justice Department defends its failure to investigate the allegations of a former Halliburton/KRB employee that she was gang-raped, blackmailed, and imprisoned by her co-workers. Says a Justice Department Spokesperson: “Halliburton told us it was just exploratory drilling.”
-In what may have been an underhanded attempt to dissuade voters from supporting government-sponsored health insurance, two nurses unions publish an ad stating that, without his government-sponsored health insurance, Dick Cheney would likely be dead of heart troubles by now.
-Cheney responds with his own ad against logging restrictions, water shortages, without which “I’d subject every one of those bitches to the non-torturous sensation of drowning.”

Tuesday, December 11th
-A special investigation reveals that Harry Reid’s “boxing” history consisted of a three-month stint as a stock boy at UPS.

Wednesday, December 12th
-Dick Cheney’s sex life heats up with another Bush veto of a children’s health insurance bill. “It’s like Valentine’s Day in December,” quips a flushed Lynne.

Thursday, December 13th
-Dick Cheney visits Harry Reid on the Senate floor to deliver him a copy of the FISA bill the administration would like him to push. Reid solemnly receives the manila envelope. “Thank you, sir,” he says.
“Is that all?” Asks an incredulous Cheney.
Harry Reid looks around the floor, noting that many of his colleagues are in earshot. “Oh, come on.”
Cheney continues to stare at him and snarl.
“Okay, fine,” says Reid. “May I have another?”

Friday, December 14th
Attorney General Michael Mukasey refuses to turn over information on the Justice Department’s alleged investigation into the destruction of CIA interrogation tapes. “I am independent,” he asserts, echoing the talking points the Bush Administration provided media outlets during his confirmation process. “I have the balls to stand up to anyone. I myself would stand up and show them to you, but I—rather, they, are occupied in the mouths of Charles Schumer and Dianne Feinstein.” For the first time in his public career, Schumer is rendered speechless, emitting only a muffled, talcum-y hum.
-GOP Senators block a House bill (known as “Geneva 2″) banning uses of torture in CIA interrogations. A staff member for Lindsey Graham explains that “Cheney sent out a new memo specifically prohibiting cockblocking,” which would be among this ban’s unintended effects. “When the waterboards dry up, so does Lynn,” wrote Cheney.

After getting blown out by the grittily-guttily-led, coulda-been-a-contender Chicago Bulls, the Supes move on to the Big Apple, where they face the team that makes every NBA beat writer drool: The New York Knicks. (Seriously, could you ever have difficulty coming up with a story about a team like that?)

The Knickerbockers, payer of the league’s highest payroll, are just this week $11.5 million lighter in the wallet, following their settlement of a sexual harassment lawsuit with an employee whom owner James Dolan, in an episode that reads like the script for a “how-not-to” corporate training video, fired after she filed her harassment claim and without consulting with his legal team.

Still, for better or worse, Mr. Dolan is not the face of the franchise. That honor belongs to head coach/general manager/accused sexual harasser Isiah Thomas. Babyfaced, mercurial, and the butt of many an article and blog post, Thomas has turned the crazy up a notch this season. Here are a couple of anecdotes to help you get through tonight’s likely stinker. Get out your DSM-IV, folks, and enjoy the unvarnished Isiah:

From a press conference following Monday night’s 10-point loss to the Dallas Mavericks (it wasn’t as close as final margin), in which the team was booed and Isiah accused of chastising courtside fans for not being more supportive:

“I fight ’til I die. It’s not about giving up or quitting. To me, it’s win or die. I literally mean death, I don’t mean ‘walk away.’ I mean death. That’s how I have coached.”

But my favorite Isiah anecdote of the season was delivered by fashionista Craig Sager (if the Trailblazers ever change their name to the Tackyblazers, they’ll know who to hire as their mascot), during the Knicks epic loss to the Boston Celtics a couple weeks ago. It went something like this:

Isiah Thomas has renewed his hate affair with the city of Boston. After leaving his hotel for an afternoon spin class [spin class!], Isiah returned to find the key to his room didn’t work. He suspected the hotel of having changed the lock/card code. After waiting 45 minutes to get back in [at this point, one has to wonder what sorts of joints Dolan’s putting them up in], he refused to order room service or go out for his dinner, because he couldn’t trust anyone in Boston to prepare his food. Instead, he just ate from the mini-bar. Afterward, he told Saigs of the Bostonians, “I hate them as much as they hate me.”

Here’s to you, Isiah. Thanks for helping to make the Knicks one of the league’s most entertaining franchises.