A few notes from the sports world...

Yes, the Mets are still dead to me. But two things caught my attention this week.

First, Mike Piazza was not offered arbitration, meaning his career a Met is over. This did not come as a surprise, but is depressing nonetheless. I should probably have the Sandman on a suicide watch. It's hard to believe Piazza has only been a Met since '98. It feels like forever. Admittedly, his skills have diminished slightly (not that he could ever throw the damn ball to second), but he is by far my favorite Met and I'm saddened to see him go. Perhaps I'll go see a Twins' game next season, so I can wear my Piazza jersey there.

Then, the Mets offered a two-year contract to Julio Franco. Who is 47 years old. I'm awful at math, but the first three paragraphs of this story make a whole lot of sense even to me.

Turning our attentions to football, it was mentioned to me this morning that I haven't posted this week about the state of affairs in the NFL. There's a simple reason for that. Things ain't pretty where my trifecta of teams is concerned. The Jets just plain out suck, but not enough so to be the leader in the clubhouse for the Reggie Bush Sweepstakes; the Browns are their usual sorry selves (they're playing the Bengals this weekend, and I could give a crap); and the Packers ... well, the Packers. Things aren't good in Green Bay. Favre is under fire. The Good Doctor forwarded me this earlier, and several salient points are raised (not including, of course, the completely possible scenario where Brooks Bollinger is concerned, particularly considering the current weather conditions here)...

-The Packers have scored 239 points, given up 242 points ... and they're 2-10. In other words, they creatively suck.

-I know we're not allowed to discuss this because it's Brett Favre and all, but his inexorable decline has reached the point where I expected him to throw the game-changing first-half interception and the game-ending fourth-quarter interception in Chicago last week. That's a little sad.

I'm not ready to talk about the Favre situation yet. Maybe next week...

Moving on to more enjoyable topics, there are few things as amusing as musical ventures by sports teams. Some highlights from my teen years include the Chicago Bears' "Super Bowl Shuffle" and "Let's Go Mets" from the 1986 World Series champions. (As a sidebar, I checked in with Joe Pendelton regarding a video for "Get Mets-merized," and he assured me that no video was ever made. He owns the single on vinyl, so I consider him to be the highest authority on this).

I always thought those were the highlights of this genre, but Ken forwarded me this doozy recently. It's several members of the 1987 Calgary Flames, including a young Brett Hull, lip synching and fake-playing instruments through an atrocious song. Everything about this is horrific, yet completely engrossing. There is no question this was made in the '80s.

And finally, for those folks who consider drinking to be a sport, allow me to point out that the gentleman at "1000 Bars" is on the cusp of hitting his goal. Exciting stuff. I'm half tempted to show up at Pioneer on Dec. 30th, but I'm already double-booked with parties that day. And one of them is Joe Pendleton's 40th, which promises to be one of the events of the decade. So 1000 Bars is going to have to live without me, regardless of the enormity of the accomplishment.