Speed. Dedication. Endurance. Endorsements. These are the traits of the modern Olympic athlete. Is it such a departure from the Greek tradition? After all, the word "athlete" is an ancient Greek term for "prize-seeker." Greek athletes would be set for life if they brought back honor from the games, including lifetime pensions and immense status. Athletes could also be bought and sold, like cattle or NFL kickers. The concept of "amateur athletics" was only developed in the 19th century. Wasn't this item supposed to be about Michael Johnson? Well, who cares? Haven't we heard enough about him already?

Seriously, if you're going to act like "the biggest jerk in this park" (Rangers announcer Tom Grieve's words), you may as well make sure your actions are so assholish that Good Morning America talks about you. And Matt Starr did just that. At a June game between the Texas Rangers and the St. Louis Cardinals, Starr went after a foul ball. Problem was, he crashed into a mother and her 4-year-old son to do so. OK, sometimes you get carried away. But then, with the kid crying and the mother upset, the guy smirks and refuses to give the kid the ball. The crowd starts chanting at Starr to give up the ball. He refuses. Now, after a media firestorm during the next few days, he finally decides to give the kid the ball and buy his family some Rangers tickets. Which really disappointed us. See, if you're going to be a bastard, don't half-ass it. You missed your chance to do the normal, human, decent, caring, thoughtful thing. That ship had sailed, buddy. So, even though you're not perfect, you're still the best douche bag we have, and we honor you for that.

Yeah, none of us are students either, but if you can sneak in there (like we do), then it's the best pick-up ball in Dallas. Here's how you get in: Invest in an SMU T-shirt. When you walk in the doors and meet the ID checkers eye to eye, confidently say "Hey" and walk right on in like you own the place.

We recently played this course with two top-notch golfers, country club players who are very picky about where they play 18. They confirmed what weekend hackers like us had long suspected: Tenison Park's revamped course, The Highlands, is a jewel. The D.A. Weibring-designed course is a nice mix of tree, water and elevation changes. (The view from the tips, which we drive by on our way to our tee box, is often majestic.) If Tenison Highlands is packed up with foursomes, Tenison Glen is itself a very nice course that snakes around White Rock Creek. For those who need lessons (hello), The Range at Tenison Park offers great instruction and a nice facility from which you can spray your shots left and right.

Readers' Pick

Tenison Park Golf Course

He faded late in the year, when the strain of trying to carry a leaden team became too much, but he was still the lone standout veteran among this disappointing bunch. But before then, he was his usual bulldog self, finding ways to win games, even when he didn't have his best stuff. (At press time, he'd won 15 games on a bad team. And yes, Ivan Rodriguez was his usual stud self this year, but he will have missed the last third or so of the season with a bum thumb.) Hell, even Helling's best stuff isn't that great--average fastball, a breaking ball that hangs too often--but the man just battles. It's remarkable when you consider that he was once traded by the Rangers and that, after he returned, stubborn automaton manager Johnny Oates didn't give him the credit he deserved until this year. Helling never let it get to him, never lashed out at the hordes that doubted him. Which makes it all the more inconceivable that Helling was booed by Rangers fans after one bad game this year. Hey, idiots, news flash: If everyone gave the effort Helling did, perhaps the Rangers wouldn't have languished in last place for much of the year.

Who really cares what the man does on the field? We sure don't. What we enjoy most about Johnson is what drew us to Michael Irvin and the rest of the bad boys from the '90s--he talks a lot, and it almost always pisses someone off when he does. That makes our job a whole lot easier, and we love him for it. You never have to worry about Johnson dropping a "no comment" or dancing around an issue. And there's something to be said for that. There's also something to be said for his use of humor. When he was first introduced to the Dallas media, he called owner Jerry Jones "coach Jones" and then, with a wry smile, quipped: "Hmm, I don't know why I keep calling him that."

Readers' Pick

Roy Williams

It's easy to forget what it was like watching the Dallas Stars before the Parkay-smooth Zubov arrived: panicked defensemen, rushing to move the puck up ice, either missing sticks with errant passes or turning the puck over trying to skate up ice themselves. Now, watch Zubov with the puck when he gets it in his own zone. He never hurries, making small dekes and turning to free himself and get behind the net...then, he starts up ice, gliding, juking one way then turning the other, faking out defenders easily. When he wants to make a pass, he does so perfectly, on the move, tape-to-tape. On a team committed to defense, he makes the offense go. Mike Modano gets the pub for his goal scoring and assists, and he is truly a special player. But star scorers can be neutralized by putting the other teams' best defensive player on them, which often happens with Modano. Derian Hatcher is a force defensively, but when he is out, the Stars can cover for him with Richard Matvichuk or other big, burly defensemen. When Zubov is out, not only does the power play turn ugly--he is its "quarterback"--but so does the five-on-five game. He adds invaluable patience and finesse to the Stars' game, and his skills, on this team, are virtually irreplaceable. Plus, he's a Russki. That's kinda cool.

Seagoville High School hoops stud LaMarcus Aldridge spent most of his senior year trying to decide whether he would play basketball at the University of Texas at Austin in the fall or take his game directly to the NBA. This is the kind of decision you're faced with if you happen to be 7 feet tall and blessed with a point guard's game. Aldridge ultimately decided on UT (after signing a letter of intent, then changing his mind and declaring for the NBA draft, then changing his mind again), but his NBA dream will become a reality eventually, whether he decides to leave UT after one season or four. Maybe he'll even wind up playing for his hometown Mavericks. We can only hope.

You could say that the chief quality of a good columnist is that he or she always surprises the reader. Except that one can do so in bad ways, such as when a Metro columnist writes about his dog dying or the back-porch witticisms spouted by his parents. Fraley, though, surprises sports fans in good ways. He is a contrarian when appropriate, writing compelling columns about why the much-hated Barry Bonds deserves respect. He offers context in his columns, such as when he said that Buck Showalter's influence with management could be as damaging as Lou Piniella's power reign was to the long-term prospects of Seattle. He champions the underappreciated (TCU) and isn't afraid to call out local stars (Hank Blalock). That he is able to consistently surprise and enlighten sports fans, most of whom are already immersed in the day-to-day activities of their favorite players and teams, makes him a star in the local media lineup.

Readers' Pick

Randy Galloway

Fort Worth Star-Telegram

Known to some as "DJ Banger," this 7-foot discovery from the Congo won't offer a lot in the way of scoring or minutes played this year. But several facts about him already make him our favorite Maverick. One, with his wide eyes and small but prominent ears, he looks like Popeye Jones' younger, bigger, thinner brother. Two, he already is the toughest Mav on the team and a person who can at least put some hard fouls on various NBA jerks (we're looking at you, Doug Christie). Three, he was the inspiration for the best line in SI.com's Mavs off-season review: "You have to pay a $7 cover whenever DJ Mbenga spins, but it's worth it."