Deciding to stay in school is never a bad choice. Even when it backfires and blows up in your face. Or more accurately, for Sam Bradford, his shoulder.

The Oklahoma quarterback and reigning Heisman winner has a sprained right shoulder, suffered initially in the Sooners' season-opening loss to BYU and re-tweaked last week against Texas. He's been ruled out of playing against Kansas this Saturday and sometime this week we'll learn more about his future.

I don't know of his medical diagnosis, but no matter. OU should shut Sam Bradford down. For the season. Whether he's going to need surgery or will simply undergo rehab and rest, he should not play another down in a Sooner uniform.

OU owes him that. It's the right thing to do for a guy who chose to return to school after his sophomore season rather than pursue the NFL. (Long-time readers of my blogs know I am an Oklahoma native, and a lifelong Sooner fan. So this post comes with extra cheese.)

Bradford was projected as being among the top choices. Georgia QB Matthew Stafford was taken No. 1 and signed a six-year $78 million deal, $41 million of it guaranteed. The next quarterback taken, USC's Mark Sanchez at No. 5 by the Jets, is banking $60 million over five years, $28 million guaranteed.

Bradford knew those numbers, yet he returned to Norman for another shot at a national title, after having lost to Florida in the title game last season. And he knew the risks, which he deemed worth the reward.

Now OU has no shot at the national title. Zero. So for his loyalty, OU should tell Bradford thanks for the memoiries, and allow him to begin doing what other college students are doing, prepare for the next phase of his life, which he still hopes will be a successful and lucrative pro career.

OU coach Bob Stoops said Monday: "We'll see what the path is, what everyone determines is best for him, what he and doctors and everyone else feel is the road to take."

Anyone who watched Bradford attemping to agonizingly crawl away from the pain after the sack against Texas should know the right road: The one leaving OU behind (but still taking classes, of course), then taking a right at Rehab and Riches.

That road should lead Sam Bradford right where he needs to go.

Where he deserves to go.

Follow me on Twitter here.

 AP photograph

The NFL is supposed to be the league where every fan harbors hopes (no matter how faint) that his/her team will make the playoffs well into winter. That was the vision of former commissioner Pete Rozelle, who persuaded  owners to follow a revenue-sharing model used successfully by the rival AFL in order to enhance competitive balance and keep every seat filled (or eyes glued to the set) through the weather-challenged holidays.

His successor, Paul Tagliabue, nurtured the model by persuading players – led by his buddy, the late Gene Upshaw – that a hard salary cap was for their own good, allowing parity to thrive even as the New England Patriots established a new-era dynasty by winning three of four Super Bowls right after the turn of the century.

But now, at the onset of the league's annual fall meetings in Boston, Roger Goodell has a mess on his hands. Teams stink. Lots of them. More than I can ever recall. More teams are all but out of the running for the playoffs before Halloween than have been since the NFL claimed parity like it was a registered trademark.

Sure there's always been top-tier teams and, well, on the flip side, the Oakland Raiders. But in 2009, miserable more than has company – it's having a convention in the NFL.

Four teams are 0-5. That's 20 games played by the Kan't City Chiefs, the St. Limbaugh Rams, Tampa Buc Wild and Forget the Titans, and nary a W between them. Would never have happened in Rozelle World. And one of them's not even the Raiders.

Oaklnd is among five other teams with just one win each. (Carolina, Cleveland, Buffalo and Detroit join the Raiders) And in some cases just barely.

Jacksonville, Houston and Washington each have two wins, but no one would argue against tossing them into the stinky pile, as well. (By contrast, the other two-win teams – Seattle, Arizona, Green Bay and San Diego – can all talk playoffs without prompting a flood of LOLs.)

There's thus far been so much pitiful football, in fact, it's almost overshadowed the top-tier storylines unfolding in Cincinnati, Denver, Minnesota, New York (twice) and New Orleans.

Parity has given way to Paltry, and in this new economic age, when a fan's passion may no longer trump pocketbook practicality, it'll begin to touch the bottom line sooner than you can say "Raiders win!" three times with a straight face.

Each team may have arrived at its miserable state via different paths. Some (like Tampa Bay, Detroit and St. Limbaugh) are trying to dig out of years failed leadership with fresh, new coaches and/or talent.

Some (J'ville, Tennessee, Carolina) are holding on with veteran coaches and may be struggling due to the loss of key talent.

A few (Cleveland, Carolina, Washington) are in some kind of going-nowhere limbo.

And some just stink. (I will refrain from naming names …)

Whatever the reasons, Goodell must be hoping '09 is just a one-season malady, that it's not a trend that would upset the NFL's status as the model sport in terms of popularity and profitability.

So far viewership has not been affected. The league is averaging 17.4 million sets of eyeballs each week, thanks in part to high-profile matchups – like Brett Favre v. Green Bay – on Sunday and Monday nights. That's the highest level since 1989.

But there are concerns. There is no long runway here. The current collective bargaining agreement expires at the end of next season, unless the league can strike a deal with the players and their new leader, executive director DeMaurice Smith.

Talks have been progressing, both sides say. And I'm sure neither side wants to play chicken with their Bentley's when so many fans are worried about their jobs.

At that juncture, they'd all be losers.

AP photos

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj

As a kid I was a St. Louis Cardinals fan. (Longtime readers of my blogs know this already.) It was natural. My hometown team, the Tulsa Oilers, was the club's Triple-A farm team, so we regularly saw major leaguers in an Oiler uniform and the Cardinals came to Tulsa to play an exhibition once each season.

My dad also took my brother and me to St. Louis once a year to see the Cardinals play in Busch Stadium. He wasn't particularly a Cardinals fan. In fact, my devotion was a sharp departure from the team of my parents' baseball passion - the Dodgers.

It was natural for them. Like almost every Negro (that's what we were back then) of their generation, they rooted for the team that signed Jackie Robinson, an act of historical significance that still ranks in the discussion with Brown v. Board of Education, the signing of the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the election of President Barack Obama.

For decades after Robinson's arrival in Brooklyn, the Dodgers were Negro America's team. And not just because of Robinson. Owner Walter O'Malley also signed other black stars, including catcher Roy Campanella, who played the coveted "mind" position, the equivalent of the quarterback; and Don Newcombe, who debuted by pitching a 3-0 shutout and in 1956 (the year I was born, by the way) became the first player to win the Cy Young and MVP awards in the same seasons. (Above, Robinson, Newcombe and Campanella with Cleveland's Larry Doby and Luke Easter) (Little-remembered Dodger Dan Bankhead became the majors' first black pitcher in August 1947, four months after Robinson's arrival.)

I don't remember much about the two Hall of Famers. But I do recall many of the black Dodgers that followed them, particularly Maury Wills, who stole 104 bases in '62 and was the NL MVP. In the '60s, the Dodgers also boasted John Roseboro (another catcher) and Tommie Davis, guys who upheld Robinson's legacy of excellence and class as the organization moved west.

I admired those Dodgers but they were not my team.

The Cardinals were actually only the 10th MLB franchise to sign a black player - first baseman Tom Alston, in 1954. Nothing admirable there. 

But by the time I was old enough to root, three black players had become integral to their success - base-stealing outfielder Lou Brock (938 SBs all-time), fellow outfielder Curt Flood (seveT Gold Gloves) and, of course, Bob Gibson, who holds career Cardinals records in any category that matters and is still recognized as one of the most dominant and intimidating pitchers ever.

They were the players who caught a young boy's eye, a young Negro boy who grew to cheer them as my parents did the Dodgers.

In time, blacks across the nation began rooting for their own teams, too. In cities like Cleveland, Chicago, Philadelphia and Pittsburgh, where black (and early Latino) players began to star.

The decline of black players in the game has been well-chronicled. No surprise: That decline has been mirrored by diminishing interest in baseball among African-American sports fans.

I love Albert Pujols, and Manny Ramirez is always worth watching. But the most prominent black player in this year's Dodgers-Cardinals series is L.A. second baseman Orlando Hudson, a two-time All-Star with three Gold Gloves. There's not a singular black star on either team, no one whose popularity transcends geographic boundaries.

As the series begins, I wonder who my kids will root for, who they'll remember.

Or if they'll even watch.

AP photos

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj

If you were there that evening three years ago, at the feet of the hills outside Pasadena, Calif., you just knew you were watching a beginning – not an end.

If you were there at the Rose Bowl, as the drama folded, refolded and unfolded again, you were convinced you were seeing the debut of the next great quarterback rivalry.

If you were there, as the final heart-stopping seconds ensued, you would have bet your pre-real-estate-collapse home that Southern California's Matt Leinart and Texas' Vince Young would be the faces of quarterback greatness for at least the next decade.

I was there, and you could not have done anything to persuade me that night that, three years later, Leinart and Young would be near-bust NFL benchwarmers today.

The two young men who starred in perhaps the greatest Rose Bowl ever have thrown just eight passes this season (all eight of them by Leinart). Three years and three weeks into their pro careers, they're clipboard-hugging also-rans.

Both men back up guys almost old enough to be their dads. In Arizona, Leinart sits behind 38-year-old Kurt Warner, while Young shags for Tennessee's Kerry Collins, 36.

But maybe not for long.

The Cardinals and Titans – teams which reached the playoffs in '08, with the Cardinals going to the Super Bowl – are an abysmal 1-5, collectively. And the whispers have begun.

Of course, the reasons for their woeful starts extend beyond the men behind center. Neither man, however, has shined this season (Warner's QB rating is 83.5; Collins languishes at 69.9, fifth from worst ahead of now-benched Brady Quinn of Cleveland, Detroit rookie Matt Stafford, Carolina's Jake Delhomme and JaMarcus Russell of the Raiders).

Not surprisingly, Warner's at least chewing up air yardage, passing for 287.7 yards per game (fourth in the NFL). Collins, though, has been dreadful, completing only 55 percent of his passes – and with as many interceptions (4) as touchdowns (4), he's truly thankful for Delhomme (2 TDs, 7 INTs)

It's too early to punch the proverbial panic button, but Arizona's Ken Whisenhunt and Tennessee's Jeff Fisher need to keep the sucker close by.

The Cardinals can draw on recent experience. They were 2-2 last season before crawling into the playoffs and engineering a stunning run that got them to the Super Bowl. And they still have two of the most dangerous weapons in the game in wide receivers Larry Fitzgerald and Anquan Boldin.

The Titans, conversely, are in a funk. They've lost five straight games (including the playoffs) since starting last season 13-2 and are dangerously close to a hole from which the postseason is all but an impossibility.

If their respective fortunes don't change soon – very soon – the franchises will have to make the call to turn it over to Leinart and Young. Not so much because their seasons would be "over," but because both men might be the injection of energy the teams need to mount a revival.

That is much more likely with Young, a former NFL Rookie of the Year. Leinart, who failed to hold off Warner in the summer of 2008, spent his offseason improving his conditioning and vowed to spend more time practicing than partying – finally.

But maybe the most important reason for playing the youngins' is to see, once and forever, if they can, well, play. If Leinart and Young are not capable of being the future of their respective franchises – as they were drafted to be – then the teams need to know now.

And if that's the case, then they're a lot worse off than their abysmal records. A lot.

Follow Johnson on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj

Photos by AP

It may be the final day of summer, but the temperature's rising in Gainesville, and Urban Meyer is already showing the effects.

He's a bit more testy than a guy in his position ought to be. His Florida Gators are No. 1-'till-knocked down, which few dispute. He's got the toughest QB in the nation in Heisman winner Tim Tebow and a schedule that's all but laid out for him to run the table and fly west for a shot at the Gators second consecutive national title.

Yet Meyer appears to be wilting a bit. A day after Florida's 23-13 did-what-we-had-to-do-to win over unranked and un-respected Tennessee, Meyer, who's typically cool on the sideline, tossed a salvo at Lane Kiffin, coach of the vanquished Vols.

He said he sensed "[no] urgency" when the Vols recovered a Tebow fumble at their own 2, trailing 23-6 with 11:37 remaining. Kiffin went conservative, running between the tackles and throwing only low-risk passes.

Apparently, that wasn't good enough for Meyer, who wondered why the Vols (30-point 'dogs, mind you) didn't take some chances.

Meyer wasn't even fazed that the Vols scored on the drive in just under 3 minutes, trimming the lead to 10 points, where it remained until the final gun.

The Gators are clearly the hunted and with other contenders tripping up every Saturday, they're in prime position to reach the SEC title game and more than likely defend their national title Jan. 7 in Pasadena. But if Meyer's already chippy, letting a guy like Kiffin annoy him, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

As it should be.

The Gators face three more real challenges during the regular season, only one of which (at No. 7 LSU in two weeks) is a major challenge. The other two are Georgia (which is still hoping Matt Stafford realized the 'Dawgs are better than the Lions) and Florida State. Meyer's troops won't have to face 'Bama, the SEC's second-best team (for now), until a possible SEC title game.

And yet, after escaping with a clear yet unimpressive win, Meyer acknowledged the building pressure, though using the moment to spew yet another dig at Kiffin. "There's so much pressure on this team to perform perfectly, which is good," Meyer said. "I'd rather be on that end then, 'What a great job, we lost by 10.' I don't want to do that."

Remember when Meyer professed his high annoyance at the cover of Sports Illustrated's college preview issue, which depicted him posed reminiscent of Joel Goodsen, Tom Cruise's character in "Risky Business?" Meyer said he was duped into taking the shot at the end of the photo shoot and was promised the image was for the photographer's personal use only.

Maybe that was the beginning of something we should have seen coming. Who cares about the shot? Was Meyer already getting tight over the challenge before him and his team?

Now, it seems as if the cover may have been dead-on. The Gators' run now seems more risky than reliable, and if Meyers is going to celebrate in January he just might have to embrace a bit of Gooden/Cruise and tell us: Sometimes you just gotta say, "What the ----, make your move."

Follow me on Twitter!

 Photos: Reuters, studio, SI

We may now return to our regularly scheduled football.

Thank goodness.

After months of reporting on the lives, loves, trials, whims and thoughts of Brett Favre, Jay Cutler, Tom Brady, Mark Sanchez, Donovan McNabb/Michael Vick, Tony Romo and way too many other NFL quarterbacks, I'm glad to say Week 1 showed us, once again, that the guys who matter most are the ones who carry the rock.

Guys who endure the mayhem of mad men intent on doing them bodily harm.

Quarterbacks are sexy and all. They're the names atop the marquee. But without a solid, top-tier running back, they're eye candy. Or Jake Delhomme.

New Viking Favre, the most talked about re-retired player ever, was given kudos for winning  (and surviving) his three millionth consecutive start, a 34-20 victory over Brady Quinn and the Cleveland Browns. He was 14-for-21 for 110 yards and a TD – about what used to be a good quarter for Favre.

In truth he was just a bit more than the guy with the best seat in the house for witnessing the best player in the house, tailback Adrian Peterson. The NFL's reigning rushing leader barrelling over, through and around the Browns defense, rambling for 180 yards and three touchdowns. Even Favre marveled, calling him "awesome, and that's an understatement," and saying he'd never played with a running back like Peterson.

In Houston, Jets rookie Mark Namath, er, Sanchez grinned his way through New York's 24-7 mini-upset of the Texans. He was 18-for-31 with 272 yards, a TD and and an INT. As time ran out, he asked the ref for the game ball. He then should have done what he did all day – handed it to running back Thomas Jones, who had 107 yards and 2 TDs.

Ravens QB Joe Flacco (307 yards, 1 TD),  the Saints' Drew Brees (6 TD passes) and Matt Hasselbeck (279 yards, 2 TDs) in Seattle were all the toast of the town after victories, but they should have sent a bottle to, respectively, second-year runner Ray Rice (108 yards, at left), bruising Mike Bell (143 yards) and Julius Jones (117 yards, 1 TD) – other running backs who, like Peterson and Thomas Jones, gained 100-plus yards on the day.

On the flip-side, the Bears (now, officially the Bad News Bears) couldn't create even a slow lane for running back Matt Forte (55 yards), which forced Cutler into a nightmare four-INT debut evening and the Bears to a 21-15 loss.

Delhomme? He's still tossing crippled pigeons into the sky. In a 38-10 loss to McNabb and the Eagles, Delhomme threw nearly as many interceptions (4) as completed passes (7), and had to be re-named today as the Panthers' starter for Week 2. No coincidence that Carolina's leading rusher, DeAngelo Williams, managed just 37 yards on 14 carries.

Some chicks (and unschooled football fans) still dig the long ball, so quarterbacks will continue to dominate the highlight shows and daily headlines. But give me a good old-school running back any Sunday afternoon (or Sunday or Monday night), and I'll take my W and go home.

Follow me on Twitter here 

Photos by AP and Reuters

What happened to that guy?

What happened to the guy who was once proclaimed (many times, actually) the greatest running back in college football history after a stellar career at Tailback U?

What happened to the guy who co-starred (along with Texas QB Vince Young and teammate Matt Leinart) in the 2006 Rose Bowl, no doubt the greatest national title game ever played?

What happened to the guy who was so good that when the then-hapless Houston Texans and equally putrid San Francisco 49ers were about to meet late during the 2005 season (on New Year's Day, '06, in fact) the game was tabbed The Reggie Bush Bowl? The loser would have the inside track on the No. 1 pick in the upcoming NFL draft – and the superstar back.

Or so we all thought.

Now, three seasons later, the Texans look like geniuses. They filled the greatest of their myriad needs by choosing a relatively anonymous defensive end  – North Carolina State's Mario Williams – instead of the SoCal Stud or their homegrown hero, Young.

Like I said, genius. Williams is a stud, and Bush isn't, at least not on Sunday afternoons in the fall.  That guy is nowhere to be found.

Bush, picked second by the New Orleans Saints, of course, missed 10 games over the past two seasons due to injuries. All told, he's averaged only 3.7 NFL yards per carry, about half his average in college and less than his less-hyped teammates.

What happened? Well, Bush discovered what so many other precocious talents do – that about the only thing the NFL and college football have in common is the pigskin.

Like the high-school prom queen who suddenly finds herself in a college dorm filled with tiara-wearing beauties, Bush learned that his speed was matched by the speed of the men trying to bring him down. He could no longer juke and tap dance his way out of trouble and into the end zone, that his moves only worked on Kim Kardashian.

At least he says he's learned. "It's like an alcoholic when they go into an [Alcoholics Anonymous] meeting or something," he told the Times-Picayune last month. "That's the first step, just recognizing it and getting better from there. … I'm really just working on being explosive and, yes, hitting the holes. I think over these last two years I haven't done that."

Because he hasn't done so, Bush has been a good rusher but not a great one. And because of his injuries (he endured two operations on his left knee last year) the Saints have elevated the role of fellow running back Mike Bell, who joined the team last November after being cut by Denver. At 6-foot-1, 219 pounds, he's the hammer Bush isn't.

Despite the danger he presents as a kick returner, Bush is dangerously close to being labeled a bust as a running back – particularly given how high we was drafted and, yes, the hype that accompanied his arrival.

But only dangerously close. Not there yet, especially if the hard work he put in during the preseason to become an NFL back comes to fruition. Meaning? If he stops zigzagging at the first sign of trouble, and instead trusts the plays as they're designed, runs hard toward the hole and follows his blockers.

He was indeed that guy in the Saints' first preseason game, then sat out the rest of the fake season nursing a strained right calf. He says he's fit and ready for the Saints' season-opener Sunday against Detroit.

It's time for Bush to make as much of a mark during the season as he does during the summer.

It's time for him to be seen as much on the highlight shows as he is on the celebrity shows.

It's time for him be a smarter, tougher, healthier NFL-ready version of that guy – now.

AP photo

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj

I've generally stayed out of the fray when the topic is Dan Snyder. The man is a new-age mogul with new-age ways that don't always sit well with us old-school types. (Consider him the NFL's Mark Cuban, without the need to let us know what's on his mind every single waking moment.) What do I care if the Washington Redskins owner seems to know nothing about running a successful NFL franchise?

As long as he's not hurting anyone, he's not worth the bother.

Well, according to a well-reported story in the Washington Post, now he's hurting people. Even worse, people who love the 'Skins.

People like Pat Hill, a 72-year-old real estate agent who's been devastated by the collapse of the housing market.

Like Randy Clarno, 51, a developer who was forced to lay off 20 employees.

Like 37-year-old Rodney Hubbard, who lost his salesman job at a car dealership.

Like Dennis Butts, 62, a contractor who once even worked at the 'Skins headquarters.

Synder is hurting these people (and many others) by suing them because – due to various economic circumstances not unlike millions of other Americans are enduring – they could no longer afford their multi-year season-ticket contract and often would agree to a "settlement" they also could not afford.

According to the Post, Synder's Wfi Stadium Inc. sued 125 ticket holders for a total of $3.6 million, winning $2 million in judgments from 34 ticket holders, most of whom couldn't afford an attorney and subsequently didn't show up in court.

The judgement against Hill, who had a 10-year ticket agreement, was $66,364. Clarno lost a judgment for $80,837. Hubbard, $71,000.  And Butts, who had four Touchdown Club seats, a whopping $209,351.

This is unconscionable. Where is the outrage over this injustice? Where is Roger Goodell?!

The Redskins' general counsel, David Donovan, bravely spoke to the Post and addressed each of the individuals in the story. He added that suing is a last resort used only against a minuscule portion of the team's 20,000 annual premium seat contract holders. "For every one we sue, I would guess we work out a deal for half a dozen."

I fully understand that many season-ticket holders throughout sports stretch their wallets too far in order to satisfy their passion for their favorite team – just as millions of foreclosed homeowners bought houses they could not afford.

No doubt some of these 'Skins fans were guilty of such blindness, swayed in the midst of the same flush times that caused many of us to make foolish (or at least risky) financial choices.

Still, these times call for more compassionate action, especially by sports franchises, which, unlike banks, have a long-term relationship with their "customer" – often a die-hard, lifelong relationship.

Indeed the Post contacted several teams that said they did not sue fans over season ticket contracts: Baltimore Ravens, Cincinnati Bengals, Green Bay Packers, Houston Texans, Jacksonville Jaguars, New York Giants and Jets, Seattle Seahawks and Tennessee Titans.

The New England Patriots and Chicago Bears confessed that they have sued ticket holders. Seven teams declined to comment and others simply did not respond the reporter.

At worst, beleaguered ticket holders should be able to walk away from their ducats without future obligations. Particularly in the NFL where there's rarely an empty seat in the place. In most cities, there will be another willing fan to pay the freight.

To sue a down-on-their-luck fan in the midst of this economic tsunami is perhaps the greatest breach a team can make with its fans.

And that's something no sports team or league can afford right now.

Getty photo

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj

Is it just me, or is the NFL not all it's cracked up to be? At least from a quarterback perspective. Time was, a young QB had to get very familiar with a clipboard before even thinking of lining up under center in a game that mattered. At least two or three years familiar. Even Tom Brady, the standard by which all current QBs are measured, sat behind Drew Bledsoe for a season and a game before launching his journey toward iconic status with three Super Bowl rings and a hot marriage to model Gisele Bündchen.

Now, NFL QBs are starting before they're out of diapers. The Jets this week named rookie Mark Sanchez, New York's first-round pick, as their Week 1 starter. And I won't be surprised when Matthew Stafford, the No. 1 overall pick, is named the Lions' king soon thereafter.

Blame another Matt (Atlanta QB Matt Ryan) and compadre Joe Flacco of the Baltimore Ravens. They turned old-school thinking on its ear last season by leading their respective teams to 11-5 records and the playoffs.

Now rookies are all the rage. Play a couple of preseason games and get the keys to the franchise.

Take us to the promised land, young fella.

Is the NFL easier than wise elders tried to make us believe? Not at all. Reading a sophisticated defense and making the right call in a nanosecond -- as several 6-foot-7 supermen with muscles on muscles and bad attitudes and Usain Bolt speed descend on you as if you are dinner -- may be one of the most difficult challenges to master in all of sports. In fact, playing the position now is probably a lot harder than it was two decades ago.

Are the young QBs better? Yeah, but they're not that good.

Stafford and Sanchez came from big-time college programs -- Georgia and USC, respectively -- where they faced defenses schemed at the high end of the college football food chain. Ryan played at Boston College, which also faced major-college defenses. Flacco? Not so much at Delaware. But at Baltimore he was surrounded by enough talent and played on a team with one of the best defenses in the history of the league.

Why is this happening? Lay it all on the money. With first-round guarantees of a reported $41.7 million and $28 million, respectively, coaches are under pressure to seek early dividends. Very early.

So is this trend odd for the young guns? Time will reveal the truth. But until it does, I'll say no.

Now, Sanchez and Stafford (if he doesn't get the starting nod in Week 1, it'll be soon thereafter) are on the clock, willing but less prepared for the rigors of the position. They'll take their hits, and so will their teams.

Without strong offensive lines and a dependable running back, too much will fall on their shoulders too soon.

But it's the new NFL. Not easier, just less patient.

Gentlemen, best of luck.

 Photo courtesy AP

Follow me on Twitter: twitter.com/roysj

Newsday reported that Knicks president Donnie Walsh isn't interested in signing Allen Iverson, the most intriguing free agent still on the market. The report didn't say why, but I can imagine the reasoning is something along the lines of: He isn't just our kind of guy.

Please.

Full disclosure: I hold Knicks season tickets. Pretty good ones, too. And I've enjoyed taking my kids to the game for more than a decade. Though some games I might have enjoyed a trip to the dentist better.

So I feel I have every right to say: Please sign Iverson! Give him a contract and slip a Knicks jersey on one of the most exciting scorers in the history of the game. (He tweeted this week that the Knicks were one of three teams that might sign him.)

I know all the reasons not to do it. Money. Age. Attitude. Blah. Blah.

Perhaps the biggest is that he was a one-man wrecking ball last season in Detroit, all but getting a head coach fired and sucking the life out of a team that once thought it was good enough to reach the NBA Finals. That's the reason few have called, despite A.I.'s 27.1 career scoring average, a respectable 17.4 last season - before he was exiled by Pistons president Joe Dumars.

But I don't care. These Knicks have no championship delusions. Make him a Knick.

A.I. cannot cause the implosion of a team that will likely miss the playoffs once again. Walsh & Co. haven't done anything this summer to greatly improve a team that finished 32-50, seven games out of the playoffs and 34 games behind top-seeded Cleveland. This remains the Off-Broadway Bunch.

And yet, there I'll be in my ridiculously expensive seats, just like thousands of other longtime sufferers. Why not give is a show? Give us an icon who scores in his sleep.

Make A.I. a Knick.

Sure, Mike D'Antoni's system was entertaining. But it's also porous. On too many nights, I left with the Knicks leading by 16 going into the fourth because I didn't want to see the inevitable comeback. Didn't need that aggravation.

Guys like Wilson Chandler, Al Harrington and David Lee thrived in the system. And there were many nights when Nate Robinson could have run for mayor and won.

But well before the end of the season, the guys were too gassed to put up much of a fight against teams priming for the postseason.

Now, close your eyes and imagine A.I. in that system. He might score fiddy once a week. Even at 34 years old.

Imagine A.I. and Nate on the floor at the same time - a midget backcourt that couldn't cover stick figures but would be the best show in town.

And I don't even want to hear the he-doesn't-play-defense argument, not with this system. Make him a Knick.

And as for him not being our kind of guy, A.I. has not been on the sports/police pages recently like so many of his peers. Michael Vick and Plaxico Burress and Donte' Stallworth, to name just a few, have certainly upped the ante in this area. And Iverson never was the gangsta his rep made him out to be.

I presume the team has a plan for building a contender, one beyond "Waiting for LeBron." Bringing in A.I. for one season wouldn't disrupt that - not if the deal is structured right, which I'm confident Walsh could do.

So c'mon, Donnie, drop the high-and-mighty movement, grab some cash and sign A.I.

At least it'll make my expensive nights a lot more interesting. And practices will no doubt be a hoot.

Photo courtesy NBA

Follow me on Twitter: www.twitter.com/roysj