Wasif's World

Ho! Ho! Ho! (Do you always equate that phrase with Santa Claus or are you like me and follow those words placed adjacent to one another in quick succession with the phrase “Green Giant?” Just wondering.)

As the yuletide season descends upon us, complete with bowl blowouts, playoff pushes and foot fetishes, I’ve managed to get a sneak peek at Jolly Ol’ Saint Nick’s bag o’ gifts for those sports figures we know so well that have been nice, and for some who have been naughty. (Damn liberals always have to make sure no one’s left out.)

So now without any further ado, I present to you the 2010 Christmas list for members of the sports world:

To Randy Moss, a Bill Belichick blow-up doll for him to have on hand when he can’t get the real thing.

To Michael Vick, a Snoopy stuffed animal. (You gotta start slow, Michael. Start slow.)

To Barry Bonds, a little more free time before he’s thrown in jail on perjury charges.

To the New York Yankees, Derek Jeter at shortstop for another three years. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together. Hahahahahahahahaha!

To Rob Ryan, a giant Rex Ryan wig to cover Rex Ryan’s ego.

To Rex Ryan, a pedicure, so he can enjoy his own feet without so much attention being paid to his personal activities.

To Mark Sanchez, an offensive touchdown.

To LeBron, a trip to the Eastern Conference semifinals with your new team ... and another loss there, just like with your old team.

To Carmelo, a team on the East Coast. (Might I suggest Syracuse? You’d still have three years remaining, wouldn’t you?)

To the New York Knicks, a trip back to relevance, but still no championship.

To the New Jersey Nets, four future first-round draft picks that still won't get you Carmelo.

To Eli Manning, sliding lessons.

To Vince Young, a new coach, a new team and a new attitude.

To David Stern, the intelligence and guts to contract eight teams so that your sport will be enjoyable again for all cities again and not just the four cities that have a legitimate shot at winning a championship.

To Brett Favre, a rocking chair ... with arm and leg straps on it to keep him in it.

To the New Orleans Saints, the “S” placed back at the beginning of their name after decades of futility. (That one arrived early thanks to Air Favre’s shipping service.)

To Cam Newton, a better business manager than his father.

To Greg Oden, an NBA career ... maybe, someday.

To the Portland Trail Blazers -- another chance to pick Kevin Durant instead.

To Yao Ming, new legs.

To Allen Iverson, “The Answer” -- and that is ... retire.

To Cortland Finnegan, some humble pie.

To the Metrodome, a better balloon roof.

To Shaquille O’Neal, a.k.a. "Tip-In O’Neal" or "The Big Shamrock," a final ring with Boston, giving him as many as Kobe, and enshrinement in the Great Personalities of Sports Hall of Fame.

To Donovan McNabb, some respect and a starting job for a full season with a new team.

To Tom Brady ... nothing. You have everything already ... All right, you win. Another Super Bowl ring!

To TCU, a big hug. It’s a small consolation, but the best I could do.

To Peyton Manning, some personnel consistency, fer cryin’ out loud!

To “The T.Ocho Show,” a second season, this time in the jungles of Africa mixing “Survivor”-type excitement with you two talking for a half-hour.

To the UConn Lady Huskies, a loss already, it’s getting boring.

To Geno Auriemma, some updated stereotypes about women.

To Brian Wilson, anything you want. Quite frankly, you frighten Santa.

To Jerry Jones, a team in the Super Bowl! (In other words, one share of stock in the Atlanta Falcons.)

To Tiger Woods, just a little bit of the mojo you used to have.

To Coach John Wooden, a team in heaven.

Enjoy your presents, everyone! And may I wish all of you a very happy and healthy holiday season. Thanks for reading and see you in the 2011, for a full slate of major league baseball and ... well, with labor disagreement looming, that’s about it! Ho Ho Ho! Green Giant!

Dear Cleveland,

I know you’re going through a tough time right now. After all the trials and tribulations of being a sports fan in that town, from John Elway’s drive to Earnest Byner’s fumble the next year to Michael Jordan’s shot over Craig Ehlo to Art Modell’s move to the Indians’ title drought, the last thing you needed was for your native son -- your native son-- to shun you.

I mean, Manny left and CC left, but they didn’t have the Erie lake water flowing through their veins. For once, all the stars aligned, i.e. you sucked at the right time, for you to draft not only a local kid, but “the Chosen One,” the greatest player of his generation.

But you had him for seven years. That’s something to be happy about, right? Put the knife down. C’mon, buck up, young Buckeyes. Things could be a whole lot worse.

It’s times like these where you should count your blessings, accentuate the positive. In with the good air, out with the bad. Here, I’ll help you:

First off, hey, as a state, you’ve got a professional football team that doesn’t have a convicted dog killer on the roster.

Sure, the Cleveland Indians haven’t won in a while, but they’re not the Cubs.

The Rock n’ Roll Hall of Fame is really very cool. I mean, I’ve never been there, but you’ll never need to add a Steroid Wing to it like Cooperstown will.

Your state has THE Ohio State University! All those other pretender Ohio State Universities can’t compare to THE one that you have. You can take pride in that.

And speaking of Ohio State, imagine if you’d had the No. 1 pick when Greg Oden was available. Ooo-fa! Sucks to be Portland, right?

The Indians went to the World Series twice in the past 15 years! Even Toronto can’t say that!

You won an NFL Championship less than half a century ago. It would be considered a Super Bowl if they were calling them Super Bowls at that time.

You were awarded an NHL franchise. Awarded! That’s quite a prize. Omaha can’t say that! Nor can Billings, Montana or Mound City, Missouri.

What’s that? ... It was Columbus? ... Is there a difference? ... Oh, 142 miles. I see. So, what’s a two-hour drive among die-hard whatever-they’re-called fans?

The Browns won the Super Bowl! Do you hear me? The Browns won the Super Bowl! (Yes, they were playing in Baltimore at the time, but c’mon, they were made up of some Browns, weren’t they?)

Fine, no more Browns talk. I understand it’s still a sore subject.

Well, we all know that Cleveland is still the only place in the country to get that delicacy you guys have. Er, what’s that called? You know, the stuff that’s so good and unique to only you? ... Help me out here. Don’t you have any food that people flock to your city to eat? (Please don’t say it’s the Hard Rock Café.)

And lest we not forget about our other favorite son -- Drew Carey is hosting “The Price is Right!” Hmm? How about that?! Remember what his sitcom taught us -- Cleveland Rocks!

And isn’t Arsenio Hall from Cleveland as well? (Yeah, best not to mention that one.)

But Dean Martin was also from Steubenville, Ohio! The King of Cool, himself.

Oof, this is tough. Are you guys cheered up yet?

In baseball, you’re not Pittsburgh. In football, you’re not the Lions ... (though they do seem to have more promise). In basketball, you’re not Memphis. And in hockey, you’re not Columbus.

Oh, crap! That’s right, you ARE Columbus ... I forgot! Sorry. You’re not the Islanders.

So, you see Cleveland fans, there are so very, very, very many great things to be proud of supporting your fine city, the city that never ... that never ... er, raises its cholesterol. (I sense a bumper sticker there!)

Look at LeBron’s defection this way: The Cavs will probably get to draft No. 1 again real soon. Next time, just pick a guy from Jersey.

I got to hob knob with the knob hobs. I got to break bread with those breaking bank. I got to rub elbows with sports celebs of various fields of play. (The first thing I learned was that these upper-echelon folks aren’t too crazy about having their elbows rubbed. Evidently, it’s a social faux pas in sports circles.)

At the 25th annual Sports Spectacular held at the beautiful Century Plaza Hotel in Century City next door to Nakatomi Plaza from “Die Hard” fame (the police’s chalk outline of Hans Gruber but a memory on the street), all the beautiful people were out for a good cause. Cedars-Sinai put on the event to raise money to help combat genetic birth defects this past weekend. They honored Pete Sampras, Carmelo Anthony, Apolo Ohno (no relation to Yoko) and the collective teams of the New Orleans Saints (for winning the Super Bowl) and the Los Angeles Dodgers (for being available that evening).

I wondered exactly how I would know some of these athletes without a program. (“You can’t tell the players without a program!”) I thought I’d have to ask, “So what’s it like being on the gridiron? ... Court? ... Green?” But publicists preceded each with the name of the celebrity on a piece of paper.

“Oh, yes! Kara Lynn Joyce is next! ... Psssst. Who’s Kara Lynn Joyce?” (She’s an Olympic silver medalist in swimming and American record holder, by the way.)

While many among the paparazzi were there to simply get a few words about the event, I was there to ask the probing questions like “Who are you wearing?” (Michael Irvin was wearing Boss and some of

his own designs.)

I figured what better way to get to the bottom of the most pressing questions on the minds of our country than with these athletes? “Where is LeBron going?”

Kenny Lofton promptly sought out the answer as he put his phone to his ear and said, “Hey, LeBron, where you going right now?” Then, he opined, “I think LeBron should stay. Get a player like Bosh or Nowitzki.”

Hall of Famer Rick Barry warns of signing with the Knicks. “You get no leeway in New York City. I don’t think he knows what it’s like to be an athlete in New York.” He then went on to sing the praises of the Cavaliers. “Cleveland’s trying to do everything to bring him a winner.”

Olympic swimmer Margaret Hoelzer provided some great insight – “I met him once. He seemed like a nice guy.”

So, reading between the lines, we’ll call that a vote for Cleveland ... or perhaps Portland, where the nice people live.

“I like meeting celebs. [As a swimmer] we’re not famous,” Hoelzer said, on her one day off from training. I mentioned that she should have Adam Sandler cast her in his next movie.

How could she do that? Why not ask all the actors in attendance, like movie star Michael Buffer?

Perhaps you remember him in his star turn in David Letterman’s Academy Award sketch reenacting the screen test for the role of “monkey vendor” in “Cabin Boy.” Buffer was fantastic. “MmmmmmmmmmmmmONKEEEEEEEEEEEEEY!”

He also played Walbridge, the bad guy in “You Don’t Mess with the Zohan.” He said it’s tough to choose one experience over the other, but to be on the Academy Awards may trump all. He’s just not sure “evil” is the right word to describe Walbridge. “I don’t know if I’d say I was evil.” True. I misspoke. Perhaps misunderstood or greedy.

I will say this. His teeth are perfect. I was hoping that I’d get him all worked up so that we’d throw down and he’d say “Let’s get ready to RUMMMMMMMBLLLLLLLLLE!”

Or fellow actor (and astronaut if you like historical stuff) Buzz Aldrin who is not yelling at the moon these days – “He doesn’t yell at me, I yell at him!” – after his stint on the NBC show “30 Rock.” Making him look, er, not all there, he enjoyed, but remarked, “It was a clever script. I wasn’t too sure about it at first.”

How about Carl Lewis? You might remember him from his guest-starring role on “Perfect Strangers.” He certainly does. “I remember that. It was fun.” He says he’s “slowing down now” – so what is that, like faster than only 98 percent of all people? – and is doing some producing behind the scenes.

Full-time actor Drew Waters, master of the two-handed handshake (his left hand on your right forearm), who plays Coach Wade Aikman on “Friday Night Lights” would not have done the on-side kick in the Super Bowl. The Texan is also excited for Dez Bryant on his team, the Dallas Cowboys, but he’s not overconfident.

And with the talk of football, Nick Barnett, linebacker of the Green Bay Packers is excited that Brett Favre had his ankle surgery. He lit up, “Oh, it’s going down, that’s for sure,” when asked if he’s looking forward to sacking the Hall of Fame quarterback. He didn’t get the chance last year, but he’s going to redouble his efforts to make ol’ gray beard regret his decision to return.

Brian Price, the recent Tampa Bay Buccaneer draft pick, had other things on his mind. He’s been hoop dreaming and believes the Lakers will be celebrating championship No. 16 next month. But aren’t you worried that wishing to face the Celtics will bring the same result as in 2008? “Not gonna happen,” he quickly retorted.

Well, Mr. 2009 Pac-10 Defensive Player of the Year, 300 pound defensive lineman, we’ll see about that. How about we ask Mr. Austin Daye, son of former Celtic Darren Daye?

I tracked down a step-ladder so that I might talk to him face-to-face. And he said, “The Celtics are on a roll right now.” You hear that, Brian Price! “But the Lakers are tough in the post. Lakers in at least six.” Dammit. “I really don’t have a good feeling about it.” Okay, we’ll consider that a vote for the Celtics.

He does see Detroit returning to prominence in two years, though. Mark it down!

Apolo Ohno, all 5-5 of him, and one of the honorees that evening, had not slept in four days, returning from Vegas. The ESPN junkie watches all sports, but he’s from the West Coast so he’s picking the

Lakers in the event of a Celtics-Lakers showdown.

A moment later, Ohno found himself being asked by another correspondent, “Which is more enjoyable, winning a gold medal in the Olympics or sex?” To which he answered, “That’s hard.” To which someone (I don’t remember who, though it may have been me) said, “That’s what she said.”

These are the things that get said when you see Leslie David Baker who plays Stanley Hudson on “The Office” along the red carpet. Baker was accompanied by Cleo King, one of the “tasing” cops from “The Hangover.”

Even Michael Buffer picks the Lakers, “and not just because I’m from LA.” Really, Michael? You’re making me angry. Let’s get ready to RRR ... No? ... Knock it off? Okay.

All these Lakers fans are very confident. But surely, there’s a way to beat the Lakers. Russell Westbrook, you’ve seen them up close, surely you must now know the secret to beating them. “I don’t know. They’re playing really well right now.”

All right, that’s enough of that. Let’s revisit “Bronbron.” How badly would LeBron kill for a championship ring? Meanwhile, John Salley has four, two of which he’s hard-pressed to take credit for. “I worked for two of them. If you didn’t ask me how many I had, I’d have to think about it.”

You can only talk to John Salley for so long. Not that he’s boring or annoying. On the contrary, he’s funny, engaging, and entertaining. But he’s soooo tall. Talking to him is like sitting in the front row of a movie theatre. He walks by you outdoors and you think it’s an eclipse. Though perhaps that’s more an indictment of my size.

Tall, but not quite as tall Hall of Famer Dave Winfield was there. In his spare time, Dave is not allowed to give his opinion without ESPN’s go ahead. Though he did say he likes interleague play, and the fact that teams get to “mix it up.” He would’ve liked it while he was playing. But that’s all he could impart upon me.

Who do you think will win the NBA championship? “Thank you.” Wait, Dave, should the NFL add two more games? ... Which are better, croutons or bacon bits? Should I go with pleats or no pleats?! Paper or plastic?! Dave? Dave?! And with that, he was gone.

Shoot. And I never got to ask him about the seagull in Toronto and what he really thinks about George Steinbrenner.

Hey, there’s event co-host Snoop Dogg walking past. Someone asked him who he likes between Mayweather and Pacquiao. (Mayweather.) Oh, yeah, that’s coming up. Where’d Buffer go? We need him. Let’s get ready to RUMMMMMMMBLLLLLLLLLE!!!!!!!”

I want to start a rumor. I mean a juicy, prime rumor; something with legs.

Now it’s got to be sensational but believable. It can’t be that LeBron James is an alien. That theoreticallycould be believable if you consider how young he still is and how mature his body is. But his growth is still within the realm of reason considering the extremes that genetics can reach for some people. (Plus, you probably don’t want to align yourself with the weirdos that believe aliens exist and are planning to take over the world through professional sports anyway. They’re the same people that keep backing the Twins to win the World Series.)

It can’t be too obvious like baseball players are still using performance-enhancing drugs.

Or it can’t be too subtle like David Ortiz is actually 40 years old. Most people believe that to be fact so it won’t fly as a rumor.

It can’t be redundant like Terrell Owens has been killing dogs for years. Michael Vick already brought us down that road. First off, people are bored with it. You won’t receive the same reaction Vick got. Secondly, there’s precedent so it won’t be as alarming. And finally, Vick was a rising star, Owens is a plummeting one.

And it can’t be superfluous like Steve Phillips had affairs with a dozen interns. What’s one to a dozen? It’s the first one that’s shocking. Any additional affairs are just piling it on like the Patriots to the NFL bottom-feeders. Plus, Phillips’ infidelity count is already rising as he’s admitted that a second one occurred eleven years ago, so the damage is done.

Although, a good marital hanky-panky rumor can go a long way, (the writer thought to himself as he rubbed his hands together menacingly). And while I’m on the subject, what is it with good-looking, successful men having affairs with less-than-attractive interns? I mean, Phillips used to get paid a lot of money to evaluate talent, correct? Now I’m not saying Brooke Hundley is homely, but ... no, wait. I am saying that; in no uncertain terms. And she’s a Yankees fan. (I had to throw that one in there.)

But, I digress. So what kind of rumor could I start? How about one on how I was lucky enough to be given the opportunity to write for this site? It’s personal, it’s topical and some of you wonder that every time you read me. Am I related to the boss? Did I sleep with him? Am I the boss? There are so many ways I could go with that one. Though I’ve already lost you.

The key to a juicy rumor has it involving someone who you admire so much, who you put so much faith into, almost partaking in idolatry, that you are never more excited when you see this person fail at the hands of his own hubris. “Damn, I used to worship him. How could anyone be so full of themselves?” you wonder aloud without review of your first sentence to find the answer.

Conspiracies are the best. If you can combine a rumor and a conspiracy – woo doggie! – that’s like hitting the five-team parlay! The Patriots only won the Super Bowl in 2002 because, in light of September 11th, the league wanted them to. It was patriotic. (Of course, the New York Yankees lost the World Series a month after the tragedy to the hands of the – wait, lemme check my notes here – the Arizona ... Diamonds? ... Oh, Diamondbacks! Who even knew they had a team there. Well, either way, they must be pretty darned patriotic there in Arizona to be awarded a world championship like that.) So that disproves the validity of that thought.

Or that the Lakers only won the NBA championship in 2009 because all prime contending teams outside of Cleveland suffered devastating injuries to their stars. Okay, so that’s not a rumor as much as it is spiteful commentary.

Back to the rumor mill. I’m sorry to harp on this so much, but I can’t say enough how much I love rumors. From those as the trade deadline approaches, to those on “TMZ,” a rumor, no matter how crazy, can add a little spice to your day. A rumor is like a tell-all book, except that those are usually true and once they’re verified, they become uninteresting.

“What’s that? Magic Johnson doesn’t like Isiah Thomas after all? But what about all the pre-game kissing? I could’ve sworn they were lovers.”

Once a rumor is proven unsubstantiated, it loses steam. The news that Tom Cable didn’t assault his former assistant smashed any hope the Raiders had this year of becoming newsworthy short of Al Davis walking on the field mid-game and dropping his pants to the camera.

Well, I’m stumped. Here’s hoping the world of sports provides something juicy for us this week.