You got a better choice? Tim Cowlishaw? As a columnist, he's a good beat writer. Frank Luksa? Last year's winner is better writing once a week than most folks are writing every day, but we feel guilty giving the award to a part-timer. Kevin Sherrington? Good writer, but he hasn't completed a full season yet. Kevin B. Blackistone? Sorry, the pretentious "B." disqualifies him. Jim Reeves or Gil LeBreton? Good, solid columnists, but they suffer from the same thing all the above names do--too often, their column is only as interesting as its subject matter. When we see Galloway's picture, we always read on, whether he's ripping the Cowboys or praising...well, he doesn't praise, but you get the point. The test of a columnist is whether he engenders passion in the reader, and Galloway always makes that mark.

In a meaningless September game, after the Texas Rangers got behind early, manager Johnny Oates decided to manufacture some history. He had utility infielder Scott Sheldon play all nine positions, including pitcher, in one game, becoming only the third player in major-league history to do so. Then Oates chastised those who criticized his move as tricked-up. (Pinch-hitter Jeff Liefer, who struck out against Sheldon, rightly said, "I don't understand the logic behind it.") "For a guy that doesn't have a lot of major league service, he can say how many thousands of men have played professional baseball and only three have done it," Oates said, confusingly. "It's something to be proud of." No, Johnny O., a winning season is something to be proud of.

Every off-season around Thanksgiving, the local chapter of the Baseball Writers Association of America votes for a Pitcher of the Year from the Texas Rangers. Last off-season, they chose John Thomson. He is a nice guy, a decent pitcher. He also is a loser, at least that year. Let's be clear on this: The Rangers' best pitcher was a man who went 13-14. He lost 14 games! This may have something, something to do with why the Rangers sucked so tremendously hard in 2003.

Surrounded by 400 rolling acres of the Las Colinas hillsides, this is hands down the best golf course in Dallas. This Tournament Players Course hosts the PGA Tour's GTE Byron Nelson Classic, the only tour event to honor a golfer. It opened in 1986 and is a cart-only golf course. But it doesn't matter to you anyway, because you can't golf here. It's only for hotel guests of the Four Seasons and members. Hotel guests pay $142 plus tax per person per round.

In the year that the poker craze went mainstream, Dallas put its stamp on the newest, hottest pastime in America. (Granted, we told you about Texas hold 'em and Dallas' T.J. Cloutier back in 2001, but who's counting?) This year, SMU student David Williams came in second in the World Series of Poker main event, and the millions he won have given him a bankroll so that we'll probably see him on the circuit for years to come. But it's Dallas' sexy poker star who had the best cards dealt her way. Clonie Gowen is one of the big guns behind the Web site FullTiltPoker.com (along with superstars like Phil Ivey and Howard Lederer), she established herself as a player not just in one tournament but throughout the year and, most impressive, she played three times in the weekly poker game of some Dallas Observer staff writers. What higher honor is there?

Not since infamous basketball coach Bobby Knight hurled a folding chair across the hardwood has a piece of furniture gotten so much attention. But thanks to Rangers reliever Frank Francisco, collapsible chair throwing is once again en vogue. During a late-season game at Oakland, Francisco took offense to something that one of the A's fans was saying about his mama. (We don't care what anyone says it was really about--for a guy to get that heated, something had to be said about his mama.) Naturally, Francisco retaliated by grabbing a chair and throwing it into the stands. If there were an Olympic chair-throwing event, Francisco would have scored some serious points on distance and velocity, but he would have lost points on accuracy (he missed the intended target and hit a woman instead).

Fans will forever be upset that to acquire Finley, the Dallas Mavericks traded future Hall of Famer Jason Kidd. At the time, the trade made no sense--you don't give up a superstar for a blossoming player. But that shouldn't keep fans from appreciating what Finley is doing. (Because folks are quick to mock Don Nelson's moves as general manager, signing Finley to a long-term deal three years ago also deserves props.) For starters, look at Finley's numbers last year: more than 22 points, six rebounds, and five assists a game. Of course, that doesn't speak to his total value to the team. He plays tenacious defense and he is intense and focused but isn't so self-absorbed that he's insufferable. Look for a breakout year from the All-Star, if for no other reason because look-a-like Chris Rock has been seen wearing a Finley jersey.

We've tried the downtown Y, the Larry North hot-bod shops, the gym-rat dives. None has satisfied us as completely as Premier. It's got a bit of everything you'd need: great training staff, the latest in workout equipment, a pool that's never too full to find a lane, and the latest-craze fitness classes (spinning, chisel, that yoga-stretch thing that starts with a "p"). There's a nice mix of average-looking folks so you won't feel embarrassed, as well as eye candy, both male and female. There's even a celeb sighting or two possible (it's where Dennis Rodman worked out during his brief Mavericks stint; you'll sometimes catch Mark Cuban playing in a pick-up game; several radio dorks from The Merge Radio Project work out there; and so on). Go see and pump for yourself.

No question, the man is a freak, a cross between Frankenstein, a frat boy, and Frankie Avalon. He says things that would make a goober shudder--like offering All-Pro asshole Bob Knight a job with the Dallas Mavericks as soon as Knight was fired from Cuban's beloved Indiana University. Nevertheless, in the words of an ancient sea chantey, "Only a loon could save the Mavs. Arrgghh." The Mavericks were the worst professional team in the '90s and a recurring joke on late-night talk shows and in Reunion Arena. Cuban's fantasy-league style may not have won the admiration of fellow owners--he throws money around like Highland Park teens at NorthPark--but he has done the seemingly impossible in making Dallas excited about basketball again. Well, as excited as a town can get with a team that includes Shawn Bradley on its roster. But what do you expect? Cuban's just a miracle worker, not a god or something.

You could make a case that Dirk Nowitzki is a better player, or that Michael Finley was a better locker-room leader, but it would be hard to argue against Steve Nash being the guy who made the Mavs go. When he was in the lineup, the offense flowed. When he wasn't, the team looked like the Harlem Globetrotters after Curly Neal and Meadowlark Lemon--lots of run, not much gun. So, at least as far as his on-court ability is concerned, we're sorry to see him go to Phoenix. On the other hand, we weren't big fans of his outspokenness about the war (any athlete who pontificates about real-world issues makes us projectile-vomit) or his penchant for fleeing after practice before talking to the media. Then, he is from Canada, and they're a little odd up there, so maybe all of that makes sense after all.

Readers' Pick

Dirk Nowitzki