Some Wishful Thinking to Make Things Right in Sports

You’re probably rooting for Y2K to come and go Friday night without gas lines erupting, savings accounts vanishing, everything going black and, worst of all, your coffee pot not working tomorrow morning.

Fine. Whatever. That’s your prerogative.

Me? I’m rooting for some Y2 chaos.

Rivers of sludge to come bubbling out of the sewers? Tap water to start glowing in the dark? Computer viruses to start pac-manning hard drives? Bud Selig promising to show up at every baseball fan’s door with a fresh fruitcake and a few hours to kill?

Gracious, no. Who would root for those horrifying visions of the apocalypse?

No, I’m rooting for something positive, for a Y2K miracle. I’m rooting for the sports world to come crashing down at midnight tonight, rattle and hum for a few hours like a bad washing machine and then magically reboot tomorrow with the following changes in effect:

No more guaranteed contracts for longer than a year in any sport.

Ten teams in the American League, 10 teams in the National League.

All artificial turf replaced by grass.

Howard Cosell and Don Meredith back in the booth on “Monday Night Football.”

Death to instant replay in the NFL.

No more high schoolers in the NBA draft.

Fifty umpires, one strike zone.

No “andro,” no protein supplements, no steroids, none of the stupid stuff.

Paul Tagliabue, museum curator.

Scholarships revoked and television revenue withheld when college football and basketball programs don’t graduate enough players.

All shoe-contract profits donated to charity.

An unbalanced major-league schedule dominated by in-division rivalries.

Raises for players who hustle.

No pros in the Olympics.

“Could-go-all-the-way” never heard again.

A mark in newspaper box scores identifying players concerned more about their stats than winning.

International Olympic Committee President Juan Antonio Samaranch forced to swim 1,500 meters in record-setting time to keep his job.

Albert Belle contractually obligated to spend an hour every day chatting with fans, signing autographs and sending electronic greeting cards to visitors to his Web site.

All teams’ ticket prices tied to won-lost records.

Automatic fines for major-league outfielders who miss the cutoff man.

Any fan caught using a cell phone at a ballpark sentenced to five minutes in a holding tank beneath the stands.

Ten days in a holding tank for any idiotic youth league coach or parent who screams at an umpire or berates a kid.

All players and owners who participate in a labor stoppage automatically forced to resign from their posts and deliver mail for a year.

All agents into the pool with their clothes on.

Any NFL player who celebrates after making a routine tackle or a 3-yard run automatically reassigned to the Arena Football League.

Team nicknames, colors and histories owned by cities, not by team owners.

John Rocker, Don King, permanent seat licenses--poof, all gone.

Pete Rose in the Hall of Fame (but still barred from baseball).

Mike Tyson locked in a room without a key. (Oops, sorry, already tried that.)

No charge for NFL exhibition game tickets.

No teams with .500 or losing records in the playoffs.

Television networks forced to start World Series games early enough to let kids watch the last out as well as the first.

The Motor City Bowl, the Music City Bowl, the Micronpc.com Bowl, the Insight.com Bowl--poof, also all gone.

A minimum age for buying a pro sports team (Daniel Snyder plus 10).

A real baseball commissioner in office.

No crying coaches in any sport, college or pro. (Sorry, it’s just not that important).

One retirement per career.

A “Way Back Machine” travel package enabling fans to go back to the ‘20s and see Babe Ruth play one game in his prime.

A fresh dose of sanity, perspective and common sense across the board.

A safe, healthy and happy New Year’s for all.