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Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Updated: August 28, 1:20 AM ET
Welcome back to the mailbag

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By Bill Simmons
Page 2

For whatever reason, my readers have been on a roll in August. Laugh-out-loud comments, provocative questions, interesting observations, creative ways to describe how much I suck … these e-mails brought everything to the table. Instead of separating them into multiple mailbags, I thought I'd adopt a more efficient, chat-style format (more questions, shorter answers) and try to hit as many as possible. Here's what transpired:

Q: Fresh off the most humiliating/frustrating/inconceivable five-game series of my life … where would you say that "Boston Massacre 2: The Empire Strikes the Death Blow" ranks in your all-time, gut-wrenching, makes-you-want-to-heave sports weekends?
--Steve D., Springfield, Mass.

SG: Honestly? I was 20 times more upset after the Pats-Broncos game last January. That Pats team had a chance to win the Super Bowl and blew it because of dumb turnovers and terrible officiating. This 2006 Red Sox team got swept by the Yanks because the front office did a crummie job for two straight years and we're finally starting to see the full repercussions. They just aren't very good. Take away interleague play (16-2) and the Orioles (11-1) and they're 11 games under .500 (42-53) against everyone else. They have three reliable hitters in the clutch (Manny, Papi, Youk), one reliable starter (Schilling) and one reliable reliever (Papelbon). That's it. These are the facts. They're a borderline playoff team at best. At least everyone realizes it now.

	Red Sox Nation is going to need a lot of Viagra to keep this Papelbon thing going.

The only negative repercussion: For the first time, annoying Yankee fans are back out in full force. It's almost like when you buy a fly zapper for your backyard (with the 2004 ALCS being the fly zapper) that wipes out every mosquito in your neighborhood, and life is great, and you can sit in the backyard and hang out whenever you want ... and then the fly zapper breaks (the five-game sweep), and suddenly those mosquitoes are swarming around again. I received more taunting e-mails from Yankee fans/friends/readers over the past 96 hours than I received in the previous 22 months combined. They're buzzing around. They're everywhere. And unfortunately, this current front office replaced the reliable 2004 fly zapper with a newer model that shorts out half the time. Bad times all around.

Here's what really bothers me: Not only are the Yankees good, not only are they peaking at the perfect time, but their fans know it. So the Yankee fans are getting that old swagger back. Too bad. I just wish the Red Sox could spend as much money as them -- if we only had a billionaire owner, our own TV station, tons of merchandising money, tons of corporate sponsors and a team that sells out every home game. Hey, wait a second. ...

Q: I'm pretty sure that if the teams in "Field of Dreams" had even one black person in it, a 1905 New York Giants throwback of Moonlight Graham would change the hip-hop culture as we know it. Any thoughts?
--Kevin, Staten Island, N.Y.

SG: You made me just realize something: Moonlight Graham was the first member of the Reggie Cleveland All-Stars! When the hell would you ever meet a white guy named Moonlight Graham? We need to come up with an old-timers team of Reggie Cleveland All-Stars. Enos Slaughter would have to be the captain.

Q: Bill, Bill, Bill. I can't believe you missed an easy layup. A tip-in birdie putt. A four-of-a-kind hold 'em hand. A ground ball to the first baseman. Sorry! ... Your last mail bag touched on the Cincy Bungles and their new name. Your suggestion was OK, but how about the CincinATTICA Bengals?
--John, Wallington, N.J.

SG: Damn! I thought "Cin-mates" was the best possible one! You trumped me. You're right, "Cincinnattica" can't be topped. I'm calling off the contest.

Q: The other night I woke up in mid-laugh. I was dreaming of something so great that it needed to be shared with you. In my dream I was attending a "Saved By the Bell" fantasy camp where we (the campers) would act out our favorite episodes. We used the actual sets from the show. In my dream we were sitting at the far-right booth at The Max when I awoke in laughter. My friends and I came up with some other ideas for fantasy camps that we would attend, like MacGyver and AirWolf. What camp would you want to go to and why?
--Scott L., Tacoma, Wash.

SG: The best feature of a "Saved By The Bell" fantasy camp would be Dustin Diamond hardballing them for an appearance fee. Anyway, I'd want to go to the "Grey's Anatomy" camp so I could grab my fake girlfriend, look into her eyes, take a dramatic pause, then belt out a line like, "I don't love you for who you are. ... I love you for who you're not." I'd want to go to "CSI: Miami" camp to play Caruso's character in various scenes. ("We need ... to find ... the body ... before ... sunset. ... "). I'd want to go to "90210" camp so I could get filmed doing the turnarounds in the opening credits. But most of all, I'd want to go to "The Bachelor" fantasy camp and just reenact rose ceremonies and bad dates. I think I'd pay $4,000 for this.

Q: Is there a better comparison to the ostracizing of Mark McGwire than Valerie on "90210"? I feel the same gratitude of Big Mac saving baseball as Val jump-starting the "naughty era" on "BH." I can't quite shake the sadness of their departures and their tainted images.
--Greg Westcott, San Diego, Calif.

	Not since "Rocky III" has a once-celebrated man hug become so dated this fast.

SG: Glad you brought up Big Mac -- I stumbled across some highlight of him and Sammy doing their complicated/awkward handshake thingie and found myself thinking, "Was that really only eight years ago?" That's the fastest a sports moment has ever become dated. Seriously, it's like staring at a picture of a Negro League baseball team. Only eight years ago, not only were these guys humongous heroes, not only were they widely credited for helping to save baseball, but nobody had a clue that something fishy was potentially going on. It's crazy. It's like being a 13-year-old kid and remembering when you were 5 and still thought Santa Claus was real. What a bummer.

In a way, I can understand why Giants fans still defend Bonds so rigorously. It goes much deeper than being in denial -- by admitting what happened, they would be admitting that every good memory he brought them over the last eight years was a complete sham. They HAVE to defend him. They HAVE to support them. I feel bad for the Giants fans. For instance, let's say someone reported tomorrow that Big Papi had been using HGH for the last three years. Know what I would do? Pooh-pooh the report. "No way. Couldn't be. They're full of crap." That's what I'd say. How else can you react? I'm getting depressed. ...

Q: Cinncinaughty Bengals. Think about it. Just please mention my name when you use it.
--Isiah Cabal, Orlando, Fla.

SG: Sure thing, Isiah Cabal. Sure thing.

Q: After the "Entourage" episode when Vince had $300,000 riding on multiple blackjack hands and the chucklehead sitting to his left split his face cards, as it always does for Vince's crew, things worked out and dealer busted, followed by Ari kissing the chucklehead on his bald dome. Shouldn't there have been a Public Service Announcement at the end of the episode instructing amateurs not to split a 20. ... Or at least have had Johnny Drama beat the pulp out of the dude in the final scene while screaming "Never split a 20!"?
--Ben, Charlotte, N.C.

SG: I like the idea of the public service announcement. It could have been like one of those '80s sitcom moments -- Vince and the gang staring seriously into the camera and saying, "Tonight's episode was a dramatization. In real life, you should never split 10s when someone else has $300,000 riding on the table, unless you want to be beaten up, mutilated or murdered outside the casino later that same night. Please respect everyone else at your table. Thank you."

Q: Is there a sports equivalent to your hung-over girlfriend asking, "Did we have sex last night?"
--Dave, New York

SG: The sad thing is, I thought about this for about 20 minutes. Here's the best I could do: When your baseball team wins a fantastic game on Friday night, one of those 12-inning nail-biters that ends at 12:15 in the morning ... and then 13 hours later, they're playing the Saturday matinee and your starter gets shelled in the first inning for six runs. It's like the Friday night nail-biter never happened. By the way, this is a mortal lock to happen any time the Sox win a dramatic Friday night game against the Yanks. Guaranteed. You know, if that ever happens again.

Q: What's the real-life equivalent of trying to break up a no-hitter with a bunt single? I'd say it's purposely spilling a drink on your friend who is about to go home with a girl from the bar instead of you, because it's a weak move to pull but won't ruin what ultimately will be one FINE evening for him.
--Ross Mathews, Tacoma, Wash.

SG: No way -- the spilled drink isn't stopping your buddy, but a bunt single could absolutely stop a no-hitter. The equivalent would be waiting until he went to the bathroom, then telling the girl, "In all seriousness, be careful. You're a sweet girl, you should know he gets around." He'll still take her home, but somewhere during the ride, she'll have to mention, "You know, your friend said the weirdest thing ... " and divulge what happened, followed by the buddy being rattled (this is the part where he's fielding the bunt) and talking her off the ledge (barehanding the ball) while resisting the urge to turn around and confront his buddy (the throw to first). You can pull off all three successfully, but it's a little work and three points where the wheels can come off.

Q: Was I the only one expecting Josh Blue to pull off the Keyser Soze "straightening walk" after he won "Last Comic Standing," as a stunned Anthony Clark drops his coffee?
--Frank B., Bethlehem, Pa.

SG: The only one who's headed to hell? Or the only one, period?

Q: Dear Abby, I mean Bill. ... A group of guys heading to Vegas for a Bachelor party. Last minute one of the friends asks if he can bring a friend along. No one really knows this new guy. What is proper bachelor party rules? Can we get an official ruling?
--CFA, Memphis, Tenn.

SG: Well, there are two schools of thought here. Some use the "more the merrier" logic, which I've never understood because bigger numbers make it tougher for everyone to meet at the same time, tougher to get around, tougher to get dinner reservations and tougher to get into, um, clubs.

Also, you're increasing the chances that one of the following people will be involved: The guy who doesn't play blackjack but stands behind everyone else touching their chairs and giving a running commentary; the guy who shows up with $125 for the entire weekend; the guy who got married too soon and turns into a "Very Bad Things" character as the weekend goes along; the guy who gets everyone kicked out of the strip joint; the guy who orders the surf and turf or the Kobe beef for dinner, then expects everyone to chip in equally; the guy who doesn't want to gamble and just wants to go clubbing; the guy who's dressed too casually and ends up keeping everyone from getting in somewhere; the guy who throws up in the limo; the two alpha dogs who end up nearly coming to blows because they're both hammered at 4 a.m.; the guy who refuses to pay for lap dances but sits right next to everyone else who's getting them; and so on.

Personally, I like smaller groups of friends who know each other. Vegas is like an NBA rotation -- sure, you can play all 12 guys in one quarter like Doc Rivers does, but the teams that win championships always have an eight or nine-man rotation. Why do anything differently?

Q: Where does Dane Cook's "Tourgasm" fall into the greatest attempts at career suicide? My call ... somewhere between David Caruso's leaving "NYPD Blue" and Mel Gibson's anti-Semitic tirade.
-- Jim B., Lubbock, Texas

SG: Thank you for leaving out the Sports Guy cartoon. I'm eternally grateful.

Q: I am in a fantasy football league with nine guys. I won last year. That's right ... in a league with nine guys and one girl, the girl won. How ashamed should they be? Can they legitimately call themselves "guys" anymore? Do they need to wear an equivalent to the Christie jersey for our upcoming draft? Just curious.
--Erin B., Malden, Mass.

SG: Wait, I think they lost the ability to call themselves guys the moment they allowed a female in their football fantasy league. I can't even fathom how this happened. Do they invite you to bachelor parties, too? And how did this happen in the Malden area, of all places? You made that e-mail up.

	When your buddy is walking back to his seat at the game, jump up and yell, "Hey! It's Enrico Palazzo!" Always a good time.

Q: I have to correct you on a glaring omission from your "Top National Anthems" list. At Blackhawk games, we have a tradition of cheering during the entire anthem. At the 1991 NHL All-Star game in the old Chicago Stadium, Wayne Messmer performed in front of a packed house. This was only 14 days days after the announcement of the U.S. joining the war. It's also sort of eerie because Wayne was shot in the neck just three years later. He's still pretty good after his recovery, but he was at his absolute prime back then. Maybe you never saw it, but I don't know how you could have missed it. You can see/hear it on chicagoblackhawks.com.
--Brandon Fish, Austin, Texas

SG: Fair enough. By the way, I received a ton of e-mails about this -- not just Wayne Messmer, but that I forgot about Frank Drebin belting out the anthem at the end of "The Naked Gun." Which was inexcusable. Anyway, I'd like to apologize to Leslie Nielsen, the Zucker brothers, and most of all, the guy who shouted out, "Hey, it's Enrico Palazzo!"

Q: What would be your list of "Best events to have front row seats" and why?
--Eric, New York

SG: Hmmmmm. My list looks like this:

1. Front row for a big boxing title fight. I just don't think that can be topped -- it's the most brutal sport to see in person, the electricity is unbelievable, and if that's not enough, hell might freeze over before we see another big fight. So if there actually WAS a big fight that truly meant something, I would pick that first. For instance, other than "USA 4, USSR 3," if I could pick one non-Boston game to have seen in the front row, you know what it would be? Ali-Frazier I. Madison Square Garden, every major celeb in the house, two guys who hated each other ... and that was the one fight where the fight matched the hype. And yet I digress.

2. Front row between home plate and the home dugout, Game 7 of the World Series. Best possible seat, PLUS you're in serious foul ball territory and you might even be able to interfere with one of the opposing players on a pop-up. Really no downside.

3. The Jack Nicholson seats for Game 7 of an NBA Finals. Imagine being right there, between the scorer's table and the visiting bench, being able to hear and see everything in the huddle, plus you're courtside? I just got woozy.

10,000. Courtside, the WNBA Finals.

Q: Regarding the Lindsay Lohan/Ann Margaret Jr. Era that you mentioned: It's already over. Here is the thing about breasts -- they don't regenerate like starfish arms. They grow back like rotator cuffs -- usable, but without the same suppleness, and not built for the same amount of speed. Except that now they will hold pencils. (If you need me, I will now be burning in hell.)
--Name Withheld, New York

SG: Have you met Frank B. from Bethelem, Pa.? You guys should get a 3,500-degree cup of coffee together!

	Will this be the cover of a future bootlegged sex tape starring Lindsay Lohan? Of course it will.

Q: What do you think your daughter's nickname is going to be on the 2023 edition of "Flavor of Love?"
--Matt D., New York

SG: Orphan.

Q: My pick for the Greatest Strip Club Song of All-Time is Def Leppard's "Pour Some Sugar on Me". I will not debate this. I will hear arguments, but strike them down like David Stern strikes down a player's union.
--Tom, Minneapolis

SG: Well, that song has a few things going for it. First, it's been around for 20-plus years -- we're at the point where it's like sitting through a football game without hearing "We Will Rock You." Walk into a strip joint and you know it's coming, it's only a matter of time. It's like the stripper's pole and the bouncer at this point. Second, for strip joint purposes, you're probably not coming up with a more appropriate title or lyrics (beauties like "you got the peaches, I got the cream"), and the chorus always enables the stripper to make believe she's pouring sugar on herself. That's always fun. Third, you can always get a laugh from your buddies by tucking one of your arms inside your shirt and doing some one-handed drumming. Always brings the house down. (Don't worry, I'm already going to hell -- it's all explained in my book in the chapter about Stoner's wedding.) And fourth, it's JUST cheesy enough that you would never hear "Pour Some Sugar On Me" song in any group setting other than a strip joint. You just wouldn't.

So I'm not going to argue with you. But here's the most UNDERRATED strip joint song: "Panama," by Van Halen. Never gets its fair due. It's just as cheesy as "Sugar," the lyrics are just as suggestive, it's been around just as long, and you even have that part near the middle when it slows down and David Lee Roth does the "ease the seat back" monologue. Brings a ton to the table. The only downside is that a bluegrass version of this song now exists.

Q: Well, it's obvious Larry Legend is actually God and you have actually screwed the Red Sox. Ever since you compared Papi to Larry, the crap has literally hit the fan. Larry is getting even.
--Jeff, Buffalo Grove, Ill.

SG: I'd gladly sacrifice Big Papi's MVP season to prove the larger point that Larry is the second coming. Done and done.

Q: I read your article about rooting for a soccer team in England and can understand your point about the lack of passion in pro sports. While I will grant you that might be fun, the obvious question is why not throw yourself into a college team?
--Michael Spurlin, Austin, Texas

SG: You root for a school for four reasons: Either you grew up near them, you followed them since you were kid, you went there or your kid is going there. And that's it. For instance, let's say that I decided tomorrow, "UCLA is a half-hour from my house and I like their uniforms ... screw it, I'm becoming a Bruins fan!" And I started going to football and basketball games and sitting with alumni and fans whose families had been following them for four generations. I mean, wouldn't that be a little weird? That's like showing up at some stranger's house for Thanksgiving and being like, "Hey, I'm in the family now! Pass the turkey!" I just couldn't do that and feel good about it.

(Confession time: I grew up a BC fan because my mom went there. My dad even had season tickets for the last two seasons of the Flutie Era. Then I got into Holy Cross and turned against them. Just think, if I had ended up going to BC, not only would I be a college football fan, I almost definitely would have served time for participating in one of their gambling scandals. Maybe it was for the best.)

Q: During the big fight with Seth Green and his posse on "Entourage," weren't you hoping that Jermaine O'Neal would make a cameo to punch Turtle? Right, me neither, I didn't think about that at all.
-- Dan L, Cleveland, Ohio

SG: Good one. I also would have liked to have seen Danny DeVito and Peter Dinklage jumping in on the Eric/Seth Green fight.

Q: Why do you think the U.S. Dream Team is headed for disaster at the upcoming World Championships?
--Geoff, Austin, Texas

SG: I don't like the team they picked or the style of play they're using. It's that simple. We just spent the last two years babbling on and on about what kind of formula works for international play -- slash-and-kick, shooters spreading the court, everything centering around the point guard -- and they decided to build the team around 'Melo/LeBron/Wade (all of whom have games more suited for the NBA), a pressure defense that any good international team will gleefully pick apart, and a coach from a college that everybody in America hates. Subconsciously, we'll all be rooting against the U.S. because of all the Coack K shots on the sidelines. I just think the whole process was inane. We're going to lose to Brazil, Spain or Argentina. I'm telling you.

Q: Short of smashing your cell phone, disconnecting the computer, locking yourself in a monastery, and swallowing the key, is there any possible way to avoid having an apocalyptic-level fight with your woman the day before you take a vacation together? I feel like I'm some poor slob standing in the Wrestlemania ring when the Undertaker's music hits, and I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm sure there's going to be screaming, a headache, and a sweaty body lying victoriously over mine.
--Jared, Murphysboro, Ill.

SG: There's no way. It's impossible. It's never happened. It's the sibling to the Separation Fight, when they pick the fight right as you're about drive to the airport for the weekend so they can leave some sort of psychological mark on you, almost like a dog peeing on a tree. But here's what you COULD do: Pretend you have a stomach virus the night before, plant a new book in the bathroom, then spend the night going in and out of there and playing up how sick you are. Not only will she feel bad, the maternal instinct will kick in and she'll make you chicken soup and stuff. Plus, you can finish a book. Really no downside here.

Q: Yeah, right. Like there isn't a correlation between Danica Patrick and "Herbie: Fully Loaded."
--Adam, Des Moines, Iowa

SG: (Nodding.)

Q: Your comment about female Giants fans was funny, but I don't think a Boston sports fan should be casting the first "ugly" stone on this subject. The women of Boston should realize that having a lot of freckles is not the same as being tan.
--Roeser, New York

SG: (Wincing.)

Q: I would like to officially nominate the Adam Kennedy/Scott Feldman slapfest as the sissiest sports fight ever. It looked like Kennedy was trying to scratch Feldman's eyes out rather than punch him, and his helmet actually falls in front of his face as he is unleashing his estrogen rage. Meanwhile, Feldman throws a left chicken wing somewhere into his ribs. I couldn't tell whether there was bad blood between the two teams or Kennedy was upset because Feldman used his pink razor in the shower.
--Ian, Windsor Locks, Conn.

	Good news is Kennedy and Feldman tearfully make up in the deleted scenes of the "America's Next Top Model -- Season 6" DVD.

SG: Good e-mail. I loved how Feldman waited until there was two outs in the ninth to throw at Kennedy (only the smallest guy on the Angels). He should have been suspended an extra 10 games just for being a wuss.

Q: You poked fun at "Moneyball" saying that all the players profiled (other than Nick Swisher) have been complete failures. Scott Hatteburg is hitting .325/.418/.498 for the Reds this year, making less than $1 million. Can't argue with those numbers at that salary, exactly the point of "Moneyball." Not everyone can have a $200 million payroll, or $120 (million) like the "tortured" Red Sox.
--Nick, Cincinnati

SG: Very good point. I haven't been following the National League for the same reasons that I don't follow the International League and the Pacific Coast League, so I didn't realize Hatteberg was having such a good season. Actually, so is Chad Bradford for the Mets. Just a little more research and I would have been right back in that thing. Look, don't forget that I'm an idiot. Don't forget this for a second.

Q: I am watching the "I Love the '90s: 1991" show and they are on the "90210" segment. As the various commentators discuss their favorite parts of the show, the following quote is said. "I thought the hottest was Andrea. Behind those glasses, sex goddess." Your commentator? Mr. Lance Bass!
--Red, New Jersey

SG: Get out of here! Come on, you're making that up. There's no way that happened. I need video proof. Somebody put this on YouTube please.

Q: You referenced "The Jericho Mile" in a column the other day. Although I have only seen it twice, I still rank it in my top three all time prison movies (along with "Shawshank" and "Cool Hand Luke") what would you're list of favorite prison movies look like?
--Gary Ricci, Lake Villa, Ill.

SG: Like this:
(1) "Shawshank"
(2) "Jericho Mile" (the greatest movie that nobody's seen)
(3) "Escape from Alcatraz"
(4) "American History X" (downgraded only for the improbable two-hand reverse dunk from Ed Norton)
(5) "Bound by Honor" (totally underrated mid-90's movie about three Latino brothers growing up in LA)
(6) "Chained Heat" (with Sybil Danning and Linda Blair)

Q: Back in your single days, would you have hooked up with big time female athlete (given the opportunity) just for the story? For example, you see Diani Taurasi at Foxwoods after a Mercury game in which she just dropped a WNBA-record 47, do you go for it to tell your boys "guess who hooked up with the single-game scoring record holder?" If not you, do you have a guy in your crew who would?
--Alex, Orlando, Fla.

SG: (Fighting off 200,000 volts of current from the ESPN editors.)

Q: After watching the train wreck of a performance from K-Fed at the Teen Choice Awards, I started to think ... is Britney Spears the Mike Tyson of the pop world? Think about it, she got on top of her game at a really young age, blew by the competition and seemed to have peaked at around 21. Then, she breaks up with Timberlake (which could be Cus D'Amato dying). Then finds K-Fed (who is a mix of Don King, the rape charge, and Buster Douglas all in one). So what's next for my former dream girl?
--Dan Soder, Tucson, Ariz.

SG: I just enjoyed that you described K-Fed as "a mix of Don King, the rape charge, and Buster Douglas all in one." Sums him up perfectly. But in the spirit of your analogy, I think WrestleMania is next for her. It's the logical next step. After she pumps out the next kid, K-Fed leaves her for her sister, her next album bombs and she files for bankruptcy for the first time, I could totally see her becoming Triple H's manager for a few weeks and hitting John Cena over the head with her purse at WrestleMania XXVI. Just feels right.

Q: Give John C. Reilly a break. He's a very good actor who just happens to be able to do comedy, but he doesn't have to. He's done a lot more than "Magnolia" and "For Love of the Game" since "Boogie Nights." Rent "Criminal." Or go back to just before "Boogie Nights" and rent "Hard Eight," now called "Sydney." He even got an Oscar nomination for "Chicago," for heavens sake. I could barely stomach that movie cause I hate musicals, but Reilly's great in it.
--Lisa B., Boston

SG: No, give ME a break. John C. Reilly is a comedic genius. He proved it on "Boogie Nights" and hammered it home in the deleted scenes on the DVD. He should be appearing in every Chris Guest movie. He should have cracked this weird Comedy Mafia group with Vince Vaughn, Ben Stiller, Owen Wilson, Will Ferrell and the wildly untalented Luke Wilson. He should be making unbilled cameos in comedies left and right. No more than 24 months should ever, ever, EVER pass without him appearing in a funny movie. I don't want to see him playing it straight in "Chicago" and "Hard Eight." No thanks. It's like putting Steve Nash in the triangle offense.

Q: You absolutely, positively CANNOT miss Bernie Goldberg's performance on the July edition of "Real Sports." He interviews a slightly loony guy who twice faked his identity to (A) attend high school when he was 26 years old with the goal of getting a scholarship to Stanford and (after getting caught and spending some time in jail), and (B) got himself into Princeton when he was 30 years old (and competed on their track team). He's currently in jail in Telluride, Colo., because he's a compulsive petty thief but doesn't seem like all that bad a guy, all things considered. And he's obviously very smart -- he scored almost 1500 on his SATs, which is how he got admitted to Princeton. But Bernie treats the guy like he's O.J. A number of times, it appears that Bernie is on the brink of punching the guy right in the face. It's an unparalleled self-parody, I seriously thought I was watching one of those old (brilliant) "SNL" skits. Needless to say, the follow-up chat with Bryant is up to its usual terrific standards.
--J. House, Washington, D.C.

SG: All right, that was from my buddy House. But watching Bernie getting all riled up is strangely similar to any scene in "The Principal" when Jim Belushi was over-acting and pretending to be tough. High comedy. It's still showing on HBO On Demand, by the way.

Q: Whether you like it or not, the "Caddyshack" remake is going to happen some day. There's no fighting it. So at least tell me how you would cast it, and do so before the real thing happens and they screw it up.
--Dave, Portsmouth, N.H.

SG: What do you mean, there's no fighting it? I will absolutely fight it and organize protest Web sites, viral anti-marketing campaigns and opening-day boycotts if this happens. Nobody under 45 years old wants to see a "Caddyshack" remake with Dane Cook as Ty Webb, Haley Joel Osment as Danny Noonan, Ben Stiller as Carl Spackler and Alec Baldwin as Al Czervik. Repeat: Nobody.

But here's what would be acceptable: "Black Caddyshack." Couldn't we take it in another direction with Snoop Dogg as Ty Webb, Bernie Mac as Judge Smails, Sam Jackson as Al Czervik, Jamie Foxx as Carl Spackler and Beyonce as Lacey Underall? With the right cast, I might give "Black Caddyshack" a chance.

Q: This isn't funny. My draft is next Tuesday and you still haven't written your Fantasy Football column. What are you waiting for? Is this personal? Was it something I said?
--Brian Nick, New York

SG: Not doing it this year. Every year, I write a fantasy FB preview and everyone in both of my leagues reads it. It's almost like handing out your playbook to other team before an NFL game. That's why I haven't won a fantasy football league in four years.

At least this is what I keep telling myself.

Q: You know the scene in "Ghost" where Sam's (Patrick Swayze) best friend, Carl, comes over to "talk" to Molly (Demi Moore) for the second time? At this point, Sam knows that Carl is responsible for his murder but has to sit there completely powerless (the deranged homeless spirit hasn't taught him how to touch stuff yet) as Carl puts some of the corniest moves in the history of male-female relationships on Molly. Anyway, watching Sam sit there as this backstabbing douche is about to sleep with his wife totally captures how I feel as Knicks fan right now.
--Noah, Hollywood, Calif.

SG: All right, when Knicks fans are distraught enough to start comparing themselves to scenes from "Ghost," it's time for the commissioner to intervene. Enough is enough.

Bill Simmons is a columnist for Page 2 and ESPN The Magazine. His book "Now I Can Die In Peace is available on Amazon.com and in bookstores everywhere.

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