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Yuck, what's that? Sorry, please excuse the tarnish on the hardware, but this award is sorta by default. How can it not be? Ron Washington almost got fired. Wade Phillips should've been fired. Dave Tippett did get fired. Not sure who FC Dallas' coach is these days, but considering their utter irrelevance, he likely will be fired before you read our 2010 "Best of" issue. As for Carlisle, he pushed the Mavs into the second round of the NBA Playoffs by molding his style to his talent. He's not exactly Don Nelson in experimental basketball, but compared with Avery Johnson's flexibility he's practically Gumby. Early in the season, Carlisle pitched the keys to Dallas' offense to Hall of Fame point guard Jason Kidd. The result? The Mavs weren't great, but they were as good as they could be.

The enduring face of the franchise has given us 10 good years. We'll give him 10 bad days. Initially told about moving to third base to make way for hotshot shortstop Elvis Andrus, Young bitched and moaned and woe-is-me'd his way into hints about being traded. Then he calmed down. Then he showed up to spring training. Then he started fielding like a Gold Glove third baseman. Then he started rifling his way toward yet another 200-hit season. Then he became an All-Star, again. After the brief hiccup, he re-established that he's a good player and a great role model during a really crappy era that's looking better by the day. Michael, we officially excuse you. And, lookie here, we also honor you.

You might think that Frisco is just a tree-barren concrete jungle of McMansions housing white-bread kids whose idea of diversity is having the option of eating ketchup on their cheeseburgers instead of mayo. And you might be right. But within the northern exurb of 100,000-plus citizens are some fairly attractive destinations, not the least of which is Fieldhouse USA, which is meant to provide an amazing sports venue for these same kids. The 144,000-square-foot, state-of-the-art indoor sports facility features 12 basketball courts (reconfigurable for volleyball or whatever), a turf-laden field for indoor soccer, flag football, kickball and lacrosse. Its "there's a sport for everyone" philosophy includes older coots too, who can join a fitness boot camp or an adult soccer or basketball league if their backs and knees will let them.

In a year in which our four major teams produced only one victorious playoff round, we had to look halfway around the world for goose bumps. Following in the historic footsteps of Allen's Carly Patterson, the bee-boppin' Plano gymnast nailed clean routines in four events on August 15, 2008, to capture the women's all-around gold medal in Beijing. Liukin became one of the faces of the Summer Olympics, her spunk and spontaneity leading to five overall medals. It was the most dominating performance by a U.S. Olympics gymnast since Mary Lou Retton also won five medals in 1984. In the wake of her triumph, Liukin was celebrated as an American hero, appearing on everything from Oprah to Wheaties boxes. More important, her glittering gold night in China cemented Plano's World Olympics Gymnastics Academy as the center of the U.S. tumbling universe.

Pondered giving this award to Sean Avery but, on second thought, he's a selfish asshole who alienated an entire locker room before forcing his way outta town and the NHL with his "sloppy seconds" comment. So we reconsidered, and gave it to the best of—let's be honest—some bad choices. In a forgettable, playoff-less season immediately sabotaged by injuries and Avery, left winger Eriksson was one of the few glimpses that wasn't grotesque. He led the Stars in goals (36) and plus-minus (+14) and contributed seven power-play goals and four game-winners. So bad were the Stars that it cost coach Dave Tippett his job. With another season like 2008, Eriksson can feel safe in keeping his.

The concept, hatched during a boys' trip to the Super Bowl, was simple. Men are better athletes than women. In turn, old boys can kick the basketball ass of young girls. Unlike most ideas light-bulbed by The Ticket, this one flick-flick-flickered and finally died a brutal and humiliating death. On a March night at SMU's Moody Coliseum, a team of Ticket hosts jumped to a 21-14 lead before being run down and eventually run over by a team of girls from Lake Highlands High School. It wasn't exactly Billie Jean King humbling Bobby Riggs, but it was a significant win for women to see middle-aged braggarts reduced to a puddle of fart 'n' fall-downs. Said The Ticket's Donovan Lewis, "It was a bad combination of age and gas." Title Nein indeed.

If you consider his breakout, dominating performance in this year's NBA summer league, this season will be one to watch for Woodrow Wilson alumni Anthony Randolph. Playing against rookies, sophomores and journeymen, he was easily the best player on the court, averaging 26 points and 8.5 rebounds a game and turning in one epic performance in which he went for 42 points along with three blocks and four steals. The scary thing is that he still has room to grow—he's added an inch of height and some 20 pounds to his frame since he was drafted out of LSU in 2008. Even scarier, he plays for the Golden State Warriors, which means he has access to Don Nelson's evil laboratory. Granted, he's got a long way to go to prove himself against the Dirks and Duncans of the league, but we're certainly not betting against him.

Judging by his performance this summer as a fill-in host when The Ticket starters took vacation time, Mike Bacsik's broadcasting has much more promise than his baseball career. The Dallas native's 13 years as a pro—mostly spent in the minors—would've been completely forgettable if not for a meaty fastball thrown to Barry Bonds on August 7, 2007, which Bonds hammered for his record-breaking 756th career home run. But after a humble start as a BaD Radio intern during the off-season, it doesn't sound like he'll be sent back down to the radio minors anytime soon. He proved capable enough to take over as producer of Norm Hitzges' weekday morning show and, naturally, as co-host of the Rangers' post-game show. Along with having baseball smarts, he's an informed basketball fan. Most important, he's got a sense of humor and doesn't flounder or clam up when talking about something other than sports—rare abilities among ex-jock broadcasters.

T.O. = gone. Released in March. Stop for a second. Breathe it in. Relax. Nice, huh? Never in sports has there been a more talented troublemaker than Terrell Owens. That he's a former Dallas Cowboy is good news. Great news. The Cowboys will have to replace his 60 receiving yards a game, sure, but at what price? No more leaders being late for meetings. Falling asleep in meetings. Screaming at teammates. Yelling for the ball. Dividing the locker room. With T.O.'s departure, the Cowboys are a less talented but better team. Next season you won't—at least you better not—watch a game in which one receiver gets 17 passes thrown his way while Felix Jones gets nary a touch. Whether he was vilified or validated, Owens was more trouble than he was worth. R.I.P, sculpted scapegoat.

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