The Red Sox, ending weeks of speculation, traded disgruntled star Manny Ramirez to Boston today, hoping that the eccentric slugger wouldn't catch on that it's the same place.

The plan appeared to be working, as Ramirez told a throng of reporters that he was "very happy" to be heading to Boston, and "glad that the Red Sox granted his wish to leave."

At a hastily-called press conference outside of his home, Brett Favre today announced that he had signed his letter asking the NFL for reinstatement, and that he planned on mailing it in as soon as he could find a stamp.

"I've turned this damned place upside down looking for a stamp, and I ain't got anything," Favre said. "Maybe if you reporters had one, maybe in your wallets or purses, that would be a big help."

Carson Palmer basically dunking himself in gasoline an running into a fireworks testing facility by ripping on Ohio State? Danica Patrick and Milka Duno getting into a sexy* catfight at the Mid-Ohio race track? Columbus Crew fans rumbling with English soccer hooligans? Seriously, what the hell was going on in Ohio this weekend that was causing everyone to lose their damned minds? Someone needs to get Carl Monday on this, stat.

*note: catfight was not a catfight, and only marginally sexy.

A few months ago, I was cruising the Compton Public Library (because that's how I roll), when I purchased a couple of literary gems for 25 cents each from their book sale. I'll get to the second one at another time, but for now I want to take you back to 1990, when fantasy football was scoffed at by most respectable people and left to the hardcore sports nerds. And if you wanted to get information to prepare you for your upcoming fantasy season, there was Internet for you to turn to with their pages of Big Boards, and you sure as shooting couldn't just head down to your local magazine rack to find a half-dozen in-depth preview magazines.

No, you had to track down books written by the early fantasy experts. These men were no Matthew Berry come latelies. These were the Wild West days of fantasy sports prognostication. The people who did devote themselves full-time to these endeavors were rugged individualists, blazing a new trail for lonely, obsessed sports fans everywhere. With nothing but steely determination, a bottle of rye and a stack of statistics the size of the US budget, these men lived rough lives, all in order to bring a very small percentage of the population their fantasy sports news. These were groundbreaking, risk-taking men. Men like...Cliff Charpentier and his "1990 Fantasy Football Digest".

Yup. Your "leading" fantasy football expert in 1990 was, in all likelihood, some sort of French-Canadian. As my partner McLane noted, that would explain the New Orleans Saint on the cove, specifically Dalton Hilliard - he probably had a requirement to place a Saint on the cover every year, because of the deep, ethnic ties between the Quebecois and the Cajuns. (Alternate 1990 cover boy: Bobby Hebert!) You have every right to be skeptical of any fantasy football guide written by Cliff Charpentier, unless it's a CFL guide. I bet Cliff Charpentier was all over the Montreal Alouettes in 1990.

The first thing you'll notice is the cover boy, the "1989 Fantasy Player of the Year" - Saints RB Dalton Hilliard. Which blew me away - he was the 1989 version of Ladanlian Tomlinson? It seems ludicrous. But looking at his 1989 numbers, and they are pretty amazing: 1,776 total rushing and receiving yards and 18 total touchdowns. That's pretty impressive stuff, especially for someone on the freakin' Saints in 1989.

The back cover promises to answer many burning questions that fantasy players will have heading into the 1990 NFL season, including "Can Hilliard repeat his Saintly 1989 performance?" Allow me to answer that one for you: no. How does 409 total yards and one lousy touchdown strike you. All this for some that the esteemed Mr. Charpentier ranked as the No. 4 RB available in 1990.

Or No. 7, depending on which list you believe. Because way back in 1990 (a time when people still listened to, if you can believe this, cassette tapes!), there wasn't one method of scoring fantasy sports like we have now. Instead, French Charpentier listed rankings for the three most popular methods:

* The Basic Scoring Method: players earn points for how many points they score during a game (six for a TD, three for a field goal, etc.) with no consideration for yardage gained.

* The Performance Point Method: players earn points for yardage gained (one point for 20 yards rushing/receiving or 50 yards passing) with no consideration for points scored.

* The Distance Scoring Method: some sort of Byzantine method of scoring which involves calculating points based on the yardage gained by each player for each scoring play. Even mathematicians at MIT are stumped by this method.

What we use today is a basic combination of the first two methods (the third one clearly having been created by French-Canadians set on secretly introducing the Metric system to unsuspecting NFL fans). Again, it blows my mind that even though it was all the way back in 1990 (when people only had 30 or 35 different cable channels - imagine!) no one had thought to combine the two methods. Or, that at least no one had informed Charpentier if they did. I honestly don't know - I was 14 at the time, and the only fantasy anything I did involved me locking myself in the bathroom with a stolen copy of my brother's Hustler magazines.

So how did the missing Fabulous Rougeau do with his 1990 selections. Let's take a look with the help of hindsight (and Pro Football Reference). I've averaged the rankings he had for the Basic Scoring and Performance Point Methods to get a sense of where he would rank them in today's, modern scoring method.

Top 5 Running Backs:

1. Neal Anderson, Chicago Bears: After having gained 1,051, 1,477 and 1,709 yards over the past three seasons, Charpentier sees this climb "continuing as he remains the Bears' primary offensive weapon." And he had a very good year: 1,562 total yards and 13 TDs, both in the Top 5 in the NFL. Which makes you wonder if the Bears could convince Neal Anderson to come out of retirement - even today he'd be an upgrade over the slabs of meat they have running the ball.

2. Barry Sanders, Detroit Lions: He was the 1989 Fantasy Rookie of the Year, and Charpentier boldy predicted that there was "no lid for his 1990 fantasy potential". No kidding. How about 1784 yards from scrimmage and an NFL-leading 16 touchdowns? Not bad for a second-year player.

3. Eric Dickerson, Indianapolis Colts: Charpentier was willing to bet that Dickerson would rebound from the hamstring injury that "limited" him to 1,522 yards and eight touchdowns in 1989. Big mistake. Injuries weren't the problem in 1990 - it was attitude. He and the Colts engaged in a drawn-out, stupid feud that would led to him missing the first seven games and essentially killing his career. 769 yards and four TDs equals Frenchy Fuqua's first major gaffe.

4. Dalton Hilliard, New Orleans Saints: As mentioned earlier, flame out city. Reuben Mays returned healthy in 1990 from the injuries that cost him the previous season, and Dalton HIlliard went back to being a reserve.

5. Christian Okoye, Kansas City Chiefs: The "Nigerian Nightmare" was a nightmare for fantasy owners, with knee injuries limited his production in 1990 to 828 yards and seven TDs, down from 1,492 yards and 12 TDs a year before. This was also the season that Steve Atwater destroyed him on a Monday Night game with a hit that basically made Atwater's reputation as the game's pre-eminent heavy hitter and drove Okoye all the way to whatever the hell that Pirate Master TV show he did a few years ago.

Also of note: The leader in yards from scrimmage in 1990 was Thurman Thomas of the Bills, who also scored 13 TDs. Where did Charpentier rank him? Eighth, right behind Greg Bell and his 151 yards and one TD. Some fantasy owner made that call in the first round to take Bell over Thomas and was royally pissed.

Next time, we'll see how well our French friend did picking the QBs. Hint: Don Majkowski is in the Top 5. This is not a good sign.

According to ESPN.com, Oscar Diaz is unconscious and breathing with the assistance of a ventilator following surgery to reduce swelling in his brain. He collapsed in his corner between the 10th and 11th rounds of his fight on ESPN2's Wednesday Night Fights against Delvin Rodriguez.

As I mentioned earlier, I was watching this fight as it all happened, having chosen to devote my viewing attention to this rather than the sideshow that James Toney vs. Hasim Rahman inevitably had to be (and was). This was a tough, competitive fight between two guys desperately trying to remain in the hunt for a title shot - Diaz had almost ended the fight in the 4th round with a crushing right hand that almost lifted Rodriguez off the floor, Rocky-style, but somehow Rodriguez avoided going down. From there, Rodriguez had used a steady diet of stiff jabs a straight rights to seize control of the fight. In fact, Diaz's right eye had steadily closed during the fight to the point that it was nothing more than a slit with a giant mouse underneath it by the 10th round. Still, he looked fresh at the end of the round and for all the world like he still had a chance to land a solid punch and turn the fight around.

In talking to my wife about this after the fight, she mentioned that this was precisely the reason she doesn't watch boxing, although she can watch MMA - the damage that is caused by taking shot after shot in a long, tough fight like this versus the more spectacular (but far less dangerous long-term) one-punch KOs in MMA. Her point was that what makes a "great" fight - two evenly matched fighters who trade big shots back and forth for a long period of rounds - is also what is most likely to lead to significant damage, either short-term (like tonight) or long-term.

I didn't really have any response to offer in boxing's behalf. Mainly I was too busy feeling a little sick to my stomach, thinking back to the live shots I watched of the paramedics swooping in on him and administering emergency medical techniques on him before the cameras cut away. Nights like tonight make me wonder if I have a screw loose for being a boxing fan.

On a side note: I watched SportsCenter, ESPN News and the various ESPN tickers for several hours after the fight, assuming that somewhere they would have some mention of the fight and an update on Diaz's condition. And...nothing. If ESPN is going to broadcast the fight, then they have an obligation to keep their audience informed about Diaz's condition during the night. Even saying something to the effect of "Diaz was taken to a local hospital; his condition is currently unknown" would have at least been acknowledgment of the severity of the situation. But I guess that we wouldn't have room for our 85th Brett Favre update of the night if we made time (or space on the ticker) for that...

As I type this, welterweight Oscar Diaz is being carried out of the ring on a stretcher after collapsing between the 10th and 11th rounds of a brutal fight with Delvin Rodriguez on ESPN2's Wednesday Night Fights. They played the footage and audio of Diaz, whose right eye had closed from constant punishment, staggering around like a drunken sailor before mumbling and collapsing to the ring ropes. It's truly one of the most frightening things I've ever seen.

I have a bad feeling in my stomach right now.

NEW YORK - NFL officials, reviewing past game film for the possible use of gang signs by players, today announced that they are pretty sure that they saw Peyton Manning flash a sign of allegiance to the Kitchen Crips, a powerful gang in South Central Los Angeles, during a game last year against the Cleveland Browns. But at the same time, they conceded that he might have just been signaling for an audible.

"During the third quarter, Manning made a hand motion that is similar to the symbol for the Kitchen Crips," said NFL vice president of security Milt Ahlerich. "Then again, we were watching the game from a CBS tape that was not HD, so it was kind of hard to tell. He might have been telling Dallas Clark to run a hot route. It's kind of hard to say."

Reached at his Indianapolis home, Manning laughed off of suggestion that he was a member of the Kitchen Crips.

"Me, a member of the Crips?" Manning said. "That's crazy - I really have heard everything. No, I'm not a member of the Crips, and I never would be."

Manning proceeded to end the brief interview by stabbing the reporter to death and carving "MS 13" into his chest, a mark of the Mara Salvatrucha gang from Central America.

Yesterday the Los Angeles Times ran an interesting story about statues at baseball stadiums (not the kind found on the field, like Miguel Cabrera). The story talked about why statues are a perfect match to commemorate great players, and listed screw-ups real (only the Cubs would have a typo on their statue) and not (yes, Babe Ruth was a lefty, and yes the statue in Baltimore shows him with a righty catcher's mitt, but that is actually historically accurate - catcher's mitts were all righty at that time).

A sidebar story talked about the fact that there are no statues at Dodger Stadium, and the possibility that one or more might be added. They spoke with Howard Cole of BaseballSavvy.com site, who has been pushing for a statue of Sandy Koufax to go up at Dodger Stadium for years. And while I have nothing but respect for Sandy Koufax, he somehow isn't "iconic" enough for me. Because more than anything else, a statue should symbolize something - it is the physical embodiment of what you think of when you think of someone or something.

So I started to ask myself what the perfect statue would be to represent the Los Angeles Dodgers at Dodger Stadium. If I just closed my eyes and thought " Los Angeles Dodgers", what immediate associations did I have.

A few ideas came to mind:

* Steve Garvey surrounded by children - dozens and dozens of children

* A fan in a Raiders hat and Dodgers jersey pouring beer on a 6 year-old wearing a Giants hat

* Jackie Robinson in Heaven, watching Al Campanis on God's TV and weeping

* Fred Claire giving Pedro Martinez a handshake and a plane ticket to Montreal

But the one thing that symbolized the Dodgers, more than anything else, would be this: Tommy Lasorda, naked except for a towel barely covering his sweaty midsection, at the post-game buffet filling his plate with mounds of linguini while screaming profanities at the clubhouse boys. It's a mental image I picked up while reading John Feinstein's "Play Ball" several years ago, and no amount of therapy has been able to scrub it from my memory. (Perhaps a more accurate statue would have two sides - one with Lasorda smiling and hugging kids, while the other had him foaming at the mouth about Dave Kingman - but I disgress.)

The whole exercise got me thinking about what statues should be outside of other stadiums. Not even Rodan's "Thinker", Michaelangelo's "David" or John Heisman's "Trophy" will have the power to move people that these monuments will have:

Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim: Although it would be relevant to recognize today's fans with a statue of a family holding a map of Los Angeles with a look of great confusion while trying to find Angels Stadium, nothing symbolizes the majority of the team's history more eloquently than a bronze statue of Donnie Moore holding a shotgun.

St. Louis Cardinals: Although a giant bottle of andro would be a perfect symbol for the Mark McGwire era, and a bust of Tony Larussa's bleary, drunken eyes from his mug shot would have quiet dignity, nothing would be more appropriate than a statue of the Cardinal's greatest base stealer, Vince Coleman. Of course, in order to ensure that no rusting or other damage would occur from rain, the statue would need to be mangled under a tarp at all times. (Note: I really like the idea of all toilets having a statue of Joaquin Andujar behind them smashing it to bits with a baseball bat, but this might not be doable.)

Baltimore Orioles: My first thought was to have Tony Tarasco frozen in time, pointing up to Jeffrey Maier and appealing to Richie Phillips for the interference call that never came, a more fitting tribute to the "Spend a Lot, Win Little" Orioles is the Eternal Money Flame, a giant dollar sign similar to an Olympic torch, except that it is perpetually fed by $100 bills.

Boston Red Sox: A statue of Wade Boggs passed out in a plane seat covered in dozens of empty beer cans and fried chicken legs is a great visual. And nothing would summarize the prickly nature of the greatest player ever to wear a Red Sox jersey than an action statue of Ted Williams clocking a reporter. But to my mind, the choice has to be of Curt Schilling, meticulously applying a paint brush to his sock before Game 6 of the 2004 ALCS. After all, the team's name is "The Red Sox" and it's also Schilling's only chance to be immortalized in such a way - it's not like he's getting a bust at Cooperstown. Plus, you could probably save on upkeep as he would almost certainly be there to polish and clean the statue every day to make sure it received maximum attention.

New York Yankees: They have enough statues, thanks. But if we have to create a new one for them, let it be Billy Martin snapping his own pitcher's (Ed Whitson) arm in a bar fight.

Toronto Blue Jays: I haven't worked out how you would make a statue of that couple "enjoying themselves carnally" in the hotel room in centerfield at the SkyDome with the windows open during a game (some sort of diorama?). So the choice here is former manager Tim Johnson, carrying three of his fallen comrades on his back to safety while single-handedly killing a dozen Viet Cong during his heroic tour of duty that he did in his mind.

Chicago White Sox: This is a tough one: a bunch of hippies blowing up Donna Summer records, or Ozzie Guillen strangling Jay Marrioti? Let's go a different route and celebrate something amazing - the game the White Sox played in shorts. Nothing says "immortal tribute" like Jim Spencer in short shorts, exposing his marble-white thighs while stretching for a ball a first.

Cleveland Indians: This really should be a series of statues paying tribute to Albert Belle placed throughout the stadium. Scenes include: him driving a car and running over trick-or treaters (placed in the parking lot); him heaving a ball into the chest of a heckler (located in foul territory in left) and his teammates retrieving and him glaring at a reporter with murderous hate (placed in the locker room).

Tampa Bay Rays: Simply put - Rocco Baldelli being wheeled into an MRI machine.

Detroit Tigers: I like the idea of a statue of Denny McLain arm in arm with several Italian "made men". However, I love the idea of a statue in the stands featuring Ty Cobb wailing away on a guy with no arms.

Kansas City Royals: Again, I'm torn - George Brett foaming at the mouth when flying out of the dugout during The Pine Tar Incident, or George Brett on the crapper with a tube of Preparation H in his hand? You can't go wrong either way, although I also insist on a statue of Bob Hamelin leaving the stadium in his uniform at the main exitway.

Oakland Athletics: Another easy one - Jose Canseco sticking a needle into Mark McGwire's ass while Tony Larussa looks off in the distance.

Seattle Mariners: I would go with the Mariner Moose writhing on the ground in rollerblades clutching his broken ankle, but I hate to honor mascots. Instead, let's honor a real American hero - let's have a statue of Jay Buhner vomiting on command.

Florida Marlins: A touching scene of Moises Alou, Kevin Brown and Gary Sheffield on an auction block going to the highest bidder.

New York Mets: A tribute to the 1986 World Series winners, featuring Darryl Strawberry and Doc Gooden playfully skiing down a mountain of blow.

Philadelphia Phillies: The Lenny Dykstra Commemorative Tobacco Juice Spit Fountain.

Chicago Cubs: Having an image of Moises Alou screaming and pointing at a dopey-looking Steve Bartman just seems mean. Instead, it's time to honor a legend: Harry Carey shirtless and face down in a pool of his own vomit, clutching a Bud in one hand and a hot dog in the other.

Arizona Diamondbacks: Time to immortalize the defining moment in a legendary pitcher's career: Randy Johnson plunking a wayward dove with a fastball, causing it to explode in an orgy of feathers.

Colorado Rockies: The new team is great, but let's not forget the legends who built the franchise. I'd like to see a lifesize statue of Vinny Castilla (Note: the immense size and weight of this statue would require massive reinforcement of the concrete below in order to avoid the statue falling into a massive sinkhole from which only Brendan Fraser can escape.)

Pittsburgh Pirates: It would be fitting but almost impossible to depict Barry Bonds and Bobby Bonilla glumly cleaning out their lockers after another playoff loss. Instead, put up a statue of Jason Kendall running a stride after first base on his ankle with the sole of his foot staring up at him. (Note: vomit bags should be made available.)

San Diego Padres: You could have Tony Gwynn getting his 3,000th hit in a Segway because he's too fat to actually get to first, but I actually don't think that's historically accurate. Instead, it's time to honor the team's lone NL MVP - Ken Caminitti "heroically" fighting off "flu-like symptoms" by coming to bat with an IV in his arm, a beer can attached to straws on his helmet and all manner of needles still in his butt.

San Francisco Giants: Yes, a lifesize bust of Barry Bonds would be great. But in order to make that fit in the stadium, you'd have to remove the giant mitt in center field, or drain McCovey's Cove. But I think all Giants fans would agree that honoring the greatest moment in the team's rivalry with the Dodgers would be perfect: an animatronic version of Juan Marichal cracking a bat over Johnny Roseboro's head, over and over.

FRESNO, CA - Law enforcement officials picked through the debris Thursday morning after celebrations turned violent following Fresno State's College World Series-clinching win over Georgia the previous night. Raucous fans left overturned hundreds of pieces of farm equipment and left countless heads of cattle, sheep and other livestock "startled but otherwise unharmed."

The harsh light of morning revealed tractors, harvesters and balers that had been overturned during the celebrations by out-of-control fans. Officers in helicopter patrols during the night had reported multiple incidents of fires being started in celebration, but later investigations discovered that these were merely cases of farmers performing regularly-planning burning of leaves, weeds and other agricultural rubbish.

Still, many area residents who went to sleep to the sounds of wild celebrations woke up to a tremendous shock this morning. John Mosesian is a farmer with a 1,200 acre grape vineyard in Fowler.

"I start going to bed, next thing I know, I hear all this shouting and hollering coming from down the road," Mosesian said. "I just thought it was the neighbors getting into it again, so I went to bed. I wake up in the morning, and someone's set my compost heap on fire, and my rotary tiller's been dumped on its side."

Mosesian paused to survey the damage before reflecting on the clean-up effort.

"It's a damn shame - it's going to take hours for Juan, Jose, Paco and Manuel to clean all this up, and they still have 12 hours of field work to do," he said, shaking his head. "They'll be here well past sundown."

Mosesian then drove off in his pick-up to his traditional two-hour breakfast at Lou's Diner with other hard-working farmers.

There were no confirmed reports of injuries or deaths following the incidents, although three Visalia men were arrested and charged with public intoxication and animal cruelty after tossing a pig into the air repeatedly in celebration. The pig was slaughtered as planned later in the morning and was said by observers to be "delicious."

Commissioner Bud Selig today announced that as a result of a string of injuries resulting from shattered bats made from maple culminating in an injury to a plate umpire at yesterday's Royals/Rockies game, MLB will be switching to maple baseball effective immediately.

"Based on recent events, we wanted to react quickly to ensure the safety of our players and umpire," said Selig. "However, because of the collective bargaining agreement with the Players' Union, we cannot ban maple bats, so we've decided to do the next best thing."

Selig said that despite MLB having done no testing, he believed switching to maple balls would solve the problem.

"I mean, obviously these maple bats are breaking because they aren't as strong and sturdy as the baseballs they are hitting," said Selig. "The answer, then, is to make sure that what the bat is striking has the same basic density as the bat itself. If we make the balls out of maple, we accomplish that."

Selig said he had asked Rawlings to immediately switch production from the traditional leather, twine and cork baseballs to the new, all-wood models. According to Selig, Rawlings has told him that they would only be able to accomplish this so quickly by using a production plant in India.

"Rawlings has told be that they would be able to start sending me the new "Cricket" line of baseballs almost immediately," said Selig. "I don't know how they were able to have these ready to go so quickly, but thank God that they did."

Players were mixed in their reaction to the announcement. The vast majority of pitchers were "shocked and appalled" at the decision.

"These balls, they're like 1/3rd of the weight of a real baseball," said reigning Cy Young MVP Jake Peavy, "and they don't have seams on them. How the hell am I supposed to do anything but lob a meatball over the plate that's going to get hit 600 feet with this thing?"

Not all pitchers were as negative. Former Cy Young winner Barry Zito said that the new ball would "even" the playing field between himself and other pitchers with "stuff", "location" and "velocity".

If this failed to fix the problem, Selig said, MLB has already contacted Wiffle Inc. as a Plan B.

As I'm sure you've heard, champion drag racer Scott Kalitta was killed on Saturday when his funny car blew out an engine and then crashed at nearly 300 mph while he was making his final qualifying pass for the NHRA race at Englishtown, NJ. The main eliminations took place as scheduled yesterday, although in a very subdued manner. Racing went on, as the cliche says, because "Scott would have wanted it that way."

(Note: Just so there's no question what I want, let me make this clear. When I die, I want the mourning process to be incredibly, stupidly intense. Like after a champion boxer from Latin America is killed in the ring. I would like all blogs that have linked to me, that I've linked to, or that might have heard of me to shut down for at least three days after my death out of respect, and the inability to move forward because they are so personally crushed. Thanks.)

The cause of the accident is currently being investigated, and the NHRA has pledged to take those findings and make any necessary changes to limit the risks for other drivers in the future. (I said "limit" since even though drag racing cars are much safer than they were even five years ago, there is no such thing as a 100 percent safe car.) Some things are clear: the engine in Kalitta's car exploded when he reached the end of his quarter-mile run, creating an explosion forceful enough to raise the car off the ground and buckle it into two. Kalitta was unable to stop the car - either he was knocked unconscious from the initial engine explosion or the brake lines had been severed in the blast - and he went through the gravel pit at the end of the runway meant to stop runaway cars, through some addiitonal netting and into a large pole, where it there exploded in a huge fireball and basically disintegrated while sending parts into the woods behind the track.

There is already a lot of speculation on if the "run-off" area at the Englishtown track is large enough to handle a runaway dragster. Many people familiar with the sport - including two-time funny car champ Tony Pedregon - have expressed the opinion that the run-off area is far too short at the Englishtown track, and that this was a major factor as to why Kalitta's crash was fatal. Needless to say, there are going to be a lot of questions asked about this in the weeks to come, and the NHRA needs to have some pretty damned good answers.

But beyond mentioning the crash itself, I want to talk about the coverage of the crash, primarily by ESPN. As you might have noticed, I haven't posted the video of the crash yet. If you want to watch it, here it is - I'm sure not going to embed the clip. But you are all big boys and girls, and I'll let you make the decision on watching it for yourself.

There was a lot of hand-wringing on the Deadspin late night comments thread on Saturday night about two things: the size of the run-off area at the track, and ESPN's coverage of the accident and its aftermath. Specifically, there seemed to be a general agreement that ESPN has being ghoulish or appealing to the viewers' prurient nature by showing footage of the crash over and over.

First off, I watched the 10 p.m. Sportscenter on Saturday night (at least 10 p.m. on the West Coast, check your local listing for dates and times). In their segnent in the accident, they showed the footage of the crash exactly one time, preceded by a warning the the footage was "disturbing." On the ESPN2 tape-delayed coverage of qualifying (which was canceled after the crash), they also showed the accident once, and spent the rest of the time talking to drivers in the pits about Scott Kalitta. And on ESPN News immediately after it was announced that Kalitta had been killed, they broadcast the footage once every "show" (i.e. half-hour), with the same warning that Sportscenter had.

And I suspect that part of the problem is that people were getting confused because of the sheer frequency of ESPN's broadcasts, and equating that with the footage being shown "over and over." If ESPN re-runs the same Sportscenter eight times in one evening, it might feel like you can't turn on ESPN without seeing that crash. Add in ESPN News, the coverage of the actual event, etc...people tend to jumble things in their minds anyway (which is why most people are not reliable witnesses), and seeing it a few times on repeated programming can seem like it's being shown on an endless loop.

If you watched the footage, you'll notice it's not particularly "graphic" - from the angle that ESPN has released, you really don't see much of the crash into the barrier itself, just a giant ball of dust and smoke and flames. As much as people want to make the comparison, this clip isn't the same as when Greg Moore was killed in a CART race at Fontana several years ago, where ESPN essentially refused to show any replays of the accident. This was footage of a closed vehicle crash from a wide-angle shot; the Greg Moore crash footage is a much tighter angle of an open-wheel car, where the car flipped and hit an inside retaining wall. Basically, you can see a human body get crushed against a wall at 200 mph and flip, still in the "tub" of the cockpit but lifeless and limp, along the grass. Needless to say, I'm not linking to that clip - find it yourself if you are so inclined.

But beyond all of this, the question remains - does ESPN "need" to show the footage at all? After all, this isn't Joe Theisman's leg, which was gross and painful, but not anything near fatal. Couldn't ESPN cover the story without showing the footage?

Personally, I think ESPN has a obligation to show the footage in a responsible manner, which I think that they did. There is inherent news value in the footage of the crash, and not just grim fascination like it's from some "Faces of Death" video. Seeing the video and how the crash unfolded gives fans the chance to form their own conclusions on what happened. You can see how the track is laid out, and how much (or little) run-off space there is. I can guarantee you that the outrage over the track set-up wouldn't be nearly as loud as it is (or will get) if there was no footage of the crash made public right after the accident. And the NHRA needs to answer these questions, whether they are at fault or not - for the sake of their drivers and their fans who pay good money to take their families to the races and would prefer that they didn't have to explain to their kids on the drive home why that driver who crashed isn't racing ever again.

Should they be "showing it over and over?" No, and I don't think that they did. And I think they have a duty to choose what angles are shown - having watched a lot of races over the years, I promise you that there is footage from a camera stationed after the finish line that would show the crash in much more horrific detail, and ESPN chose not to release it. (I find it interesting to compare the coverage of this crash to the crash that killed Gordon Smiley in qualifying for the 1982 Indianapolis 500 - where his car went head on into the wall at 200 mph and basically broke apart like a missile hit it. It was one the most graphic and disturbing crashes I've ever seen, but ABC showed a replay of it to lead off their broadcast along with news that Smiley was dead - the crash happened before the broadcast began - and ABC Nightly News showed a different, still icky angle in their broadcast.) ESPN doesn't need to show blood and guts to do its job, but they do need to report the news, even if it's troubling.

Big Huge Labs has a fun program where you can make your own "Motivational" poster. You know, the one that your cheesy boss has of a rock climber that says something like "Endurance: Having the grit to hang tough"? So I thought, there are certainly some posters that could be made involving sports figures in the news, such as Kobe Bryant and Javon Walker.

Cal Tech researchers reported that a massive earth movement that registered 4.3 on the Richter scale Tuesday night was not an earthquake as previously thought, but the result of hundreds of thousands of small Laker flags being thrown to the ground in disgust after the team's series-clinching 131-92 defeat by the Boston Celtics in Game 6 of the NBA Finals.

The jolt was felt by people as far north as Merced and as far east as Phoenix at 8:54 p.m. Pacific time. Cal Tech researchers admitted that they were puzzled by the event.

"Of course, your first reaction is that this must be an earthquake, but it became apparent quickly from the data that there was no epicenter and in fact the impact was felt equally across the area," said Lucy Davis, a seismologist at Cal Tech. "It wasn't until we left the lab for the evening and saw the streets littered with hundreds of suction-cupped Lakers flags with tire tracks on them that we were able to piece this together."

Davis warned that something similar to aftershocks could be expected over the next few days, caused by Laker fans simultaneously slamming their garage doors as they put remaining Laker flags away for the next 11 months.

In case you missed it on Monday, there was a story that broke featuring allegations that, if true, could potentially be so damaging as to cripple an entire sport. No, I'm not talking about Tim Donaghy's attempt to go down in a Tony Montana-like hail of bullets by claiming that Game 6 of the 2002 Western Conference finals was fixed. (The main problem the NBA has in that regard is the lack of shock that fans would have to that being true, even before Donaghy opened his maw. The fact that the latest Fox Sports poll shows that almost 80 percent of fans think that the fix was in on that game tells me that there was a fair amount of distrust of the NBA in general.)

No, I'm talking about NASCAR, and the $225 million discrimination lawsuit brought by a former tecnhnical inspector who is black and female. Obviously, it will be up to the courts to decide exactly what did or didn't happen, but Mauricia Grant's allegations make NASCAR seem like it's being run by some combination of Marge Schott, Isiah Thomas and this LSU baseball fan. Among some of the "highlights" of the allegations in her lawsuit:

* Co-workers gave her such heartfelt and personal nicknames as "Nappy Headed Mo'" and "Queen Sheba" and told her that she worked on "colored people time"

* Her supervisor, Nationwide Series director Joe Balash (you know, the person she should have turned to with complaints about discrimination) asked her "Does your workout include an urban obstacle course with a flat-screen TV on your back?"

* Grant was forced to work outside more often than the white male officials because her supervisors believed she couldn't sunburn because she was black - apparently NASCAR has hired Dusty Baker as their Special Sunburn Advisor

* When packing up a dark garage at Texas Motor Speedway an official told Grant: "Keep smiling and pop your eyes out 'cause we can't see you."

And on and on. I know some of you are saying "This is a surprise?" And yeah, any sport that has hundreds of Rebel flags flying in the infield and stands during events has a bit of a problem with race. Which, of course, is why this is so bad. NASCAR is desperate to move past it's redneck past, but without alienating their "core" fans (i.e rednecks). In order to continue to grow (and stop their ratings flatlining), they need to reach new audiences. Advertisers need NASCAR to broaden their reach. That's why they've poured huge resources into their largely-unsuccessful Drive for Diversity campaign.

And then this happens. As you can expect, NASCAR has gone into full retreat mode, with NASCAR Chairman Brian France saying that he just wishes she would have gone to her supervisors with her complaints instead of filing a lawsuit. The same supervisors who were asking her if a little urban looting was part of her workout routine. Right.

All in all, I'm just stunned that NASCAR didn't settle this quietly and out of the public eye, whether the allegations were true or not. It's a huge, dark cloud hanging over the sport as it tries to maintain its position as a major sport and not drift back into "niche sport" status that is beloved by some in certain areas but not popular across the US.

Mississippi State baseball coach Ron Polk retired this season after 35 seasons and 1,373 wins to his name. As you might expect, he thought he should have some say in the hiring of his successor, backing longtime assistant coach (and former player under him) Tommy Raffo. However, Mississippi State recently brought in a new athletic director, Greg Byrne. And he, for obvious reasons, wanted to put his own stamp on the athletic department, and decided to hire Kentucky coach John Cohen.

Big mistake.

Polk is, as they say down South, madder than a toothless dog with a bone. (I don't know if they actually say that; I might have mixed up my Southern sayings with the wisdom of Ed Anger.) Polk has ripped into Byrne, said that he is "on the war path" and has vowed to "do everything I can to make his life miserable."

Among Polk's plans to protest the "snub" of Raffo are:

* Removing his name from the stadium

* Taking Mississippi State from his will

* Use his influence to undermine several successful booster clubs

* "Personally" take down banners that display his name and number

* Hold his breath until they hire Raffo or he dies, in which case they'll have to live with that the rest of their lives (Editor's Note: I made this one up)

Other than pointing out that it's shame that his wife and family will presumably will have to be written back into his will (and that I'd like to see him on a ladder, angrily taking down banners as if he's a homeowner whose house just got TP'ed), I feel like Polk has a point here - other coaches who have reached legendary status in their respective fields have had the chance to hand pick their successors, so why shouldn't he? Again, I don't think it warrants him acting like a petulant child who didn't get to buy a toy at Wal-Mart, but who am I to judge?*

*Answer: a member of the World Wide Blogosphere, that's who.