I don't know why. But when I heard Favre was off to New York I thought about Joe Buck. I imagined a ragged Brett Favre back in Mississippi looking back at something (maybe a sad puppy) as he hopped on a bus with a light knapsack tied to a sturdy stick ready to take him North. Not too far North though. Don't want to end up in the CFL. The Midnight Cowboy - or in Favre's case, the Midnight Hunter. It's a fine modern tale fusing urban decay, loss innocence and football.

Ever look at a flag and wonder, "Yeesh. Who got paid for that?" Me too. Here are some flags that raised my eyebrow...

He had the internal beat of a jazz drummer. His exquisite timing between time, space and ball meant he could find tight spaces just like Billie Holiday could find and sing impossible notes.

Before you he stood in the flesh. After you, the realization that a ghost; a shadow had just been seen.

His name was Diego Armando Maradona.

As I watched former Washington Redskins wide receiver Art Monk's Hall of Fame induction ceremony and the great four-minute ovation he received from the fans, it reminded me of another standing-o that took place in 1996 during the last game at the old Montreal Forum...

Lately, a new kind of star athlete behaviour has entered the world of sports: the indecisive one. Hm. Orange juice or grapefruit juice? Hm.

You know the routine, the smart ones plan their sabbatical during the season with the "I'm not sure if I'll return" routine. Others go for operatic effect. They call a press conference, break down and cry while wiping tears away thus dramtically enhancing the press conference visuals.

There, there. Eezgonnabeawright.

Then, as fast as you can say FLOCCINAUCINIHILIPILIFICATION they're back with arms stretched and raised as if nothing happened and ready to work.

The Golden Era of two Dynasties compared: Eerily similar? One day I was shouting excerpts from the Book of Daniel at my neighbour for no apparent reason and came up with the idea of comparing the Habs and Yankees.

Carlos Sastre of Spain won the Tour de France and in case you missed it, Spain's fury is being felt on the professional sports landscape. Consider they're currently the Euro Cup holders in soccer, World Champions in basketball and Rafael Nadal is poised to become the number one ranked tennis player in the world.

Now granted, in the case of Sastre, the UCI Road rankings are not led by a Spaniard, or the Euro triumph isn't the same as the World Cup. Nevertheless, it doesn't detract from the fact that Spain is basically kicking asssss these days.

It hasn't always been that way. Growing up it was always the same countries the European continent who dominated in a multitude of sports. That is, European sports powers like Russia, Germany, Italy, France, Sweden and Great Britain. Spain? Have you looked at their overall Olympic medal count? Go. It's not pretty.

I was watching the baseball highlights while I knitted a Green Lantern costume (I eventually ran out of green yarn) and noticed a pitcher getting tossed out of the game by the home plate umpire during the Yankees-Orioles game. The pitcher was Baltimore's Daniel Cabrera.

You see, earlier in the game Alex "Mad-Rod" Rodriguez smacked a dinger off Cabrera. On his next journey to the plate, Cabrera zinged him with an inside pitch. As many are aware, it's tradition to send a message to a hitter that's made you his gimp during a game - or even over a long career. We've all seen the caption, "Bruce Wayne is 20 for 32 lifetime against Clark Kent." That sort of stuff stays with you deep within your mind...doesn't anyone read Carl Jung anymore?

Ryder Hesjedal finished 47th at the Tour de France. While this may seem unremarkable it really isn't given that he rode for over 3000 km's and actually completed the tour. Not since Steve Bauer way back when "Danger Bay" was still on TV, has a Canadian rider made any amount of noise in professional cycling. It can't always be about Italians, Spaniards, Americans, dopers, whores and aliens all the time, right? Its-a-right.