I am a former Yankees fan who has long since seen the light (the light being that the Yankees epitomize pretty much everything that is wrong and horrible about New York City.) Men in sports that I would like to sleep with, in order, if I were not previously occupied, include: Ben Roethlisberger (oh c'mon, as if you don't expect some man on man phone sex lines to show up in the phone records-seizing discovery period of his rape lawsuit!); little tennis critter Mike Bryan BUT NOT his evil twin Bob; YES Network yes-man and former Yankee d-bag Paul O'Neill (totally grudgey); and of course Caster Semenya. (Hayyy.) Oh and Shawne Merriman. If it's good enough for a not at all drunk Tila Tequila, it's good enough for me. NOW LET'S GET TO THE SPORTS.

So read his excerpt and ask him Beckham related questions in the thread below. He'll respond. If this goes reasonably well (or horribly awry) we plan on doing more of these. So have fun with it. Mr. Wahl will take your questions in the thread below. He'll be here for, oh, 20-30 minutes until something else happens. And, if you haven't done so already, do buy his book. It's an incredible read. Have at it, monsters.

If you stood inside the velvet-roped VIP section in Toronto's Ultra Supper Club just before midnight on August 5, 2007, you would have thought you'd stepped into a time warp back to 1977, to the days when the New York Cosmos of Pelé and Giorgio Chinaglia partied with Andy Warhol and Bianca Jagger and the gang at Studio 54 in Manhattan. For the Galaxy players, that night in the Supper Club-the hottest nightclub in downtown Toronto-was the first time they felt like a SuperClub. On the team's opening road trip with David Beckham, L.A. (now 3–5–5) had tied Toronto FC 0–0 earlier in the evening, an ugly game that was now being redeemed by the packs of pretty young things packing the open-air dance floor, waiting in block-long lines outside the club, and flashing eye-popping amounts of skin at the Galaxy players, all in the hope of being invited with one crook of an index finger inside the velvet rope.

Joe Cannon took a sip of his drink and surveyed the scene. For nine years the Galaxy's All-Pro goalkeeper had waited for this, waited for MLS to feel like the spectacle of the NBA and the NFL, waited for gorgeous women in skintight sequined tops to flash come-hither looks his way just because of the team he played on. Cannon knew this would happen once Beckham arrived. Wasn't that what he'd said at Cobi Jones's birthday party in June when one of the players' girlfriends had asked if Cannon was dating anyone?

"Nah," he replied. "I'm kind of waiting for David to get here."

"What does that mean?" Alan Gordon asked.

"You know, all the girls."

Gordon couldn't take it. "Joe, what do you think is going to change?" he asked. "Seriously. You're still the same person. Like a girl is going to want to get with you just because David Beckham is on the team. What are you gonna do, pull a little Beckham out of your pocket and say, ‘See, look! Here I am!' No, dude."

Now look. For one night, at least, Cannon had sweet vindication. Who knew if it would happen again? This was a team function, after all, and Beckham was obligated to be here. But for now Cannon couldn't let go of the thought: Everyone wants to be inside this VIP section because we are the Los Angeles Galaxy. It was an intoxicating feeling, due only partly to the free bottles of Patrón and Grey Goose being passed around like water jugs on the practice field. For it wasn't just the women who were trying to get in, lying to bouncers and snatching VIP passes. Men were pleading with Galaxy players too. I know Ante! I know Joe! Can you get me up there?

Yet Cannon was also fully aware that none of this-the VIP section, the free drinks, the women-would be happening if it weren't for one individual, the global icon who was talking quietly with some teammates at a corner table behind the velvet rope. Every once in a while,

Beckham's hulking bodyguard Shane, who everyone said was once an Ultimate Fighter, would let in a fan for an autograph or a picture. As the music thumped and the VIP section filled and the clock struck 1 A.M., Galaxy midfielder Peter Vagenas tried to wrap his mind around the strangeness of it all. How does Beckham deal with it, he wondered, the notion that if he were to get up and walk to the other side of this club, everyone else would suddenly migrate to that section as well? How would the other players deal with it too? For his part, Gavin Glinton wanted to keep things in perspective ("We know why it's that scene, you know what I mean?"), but the dreadlocked reserve forward was too busy chatting up some runway-model types to worry about what was going on in everyone else's heads.

If these were the perks that came with being David Beckham's teammates, then playing the real-life versions of Turtle from HBO's Entourage wasn't so bad a deal. The road trip had plenty of other benefits, too. All the players had been given new Hugo Boss suits for official events, courtesy of an agreement the team had made with the clothing designer for the rest of the season. Instead of staying in the usual MLS-mandated (read: mediocre) hotel, the Galaxy was using one of its two exceptions for the season to lodge at the fancy Le Meridien King Edward downtown. What's more, the hotel stay was free, the result of a deal the Galaxy had reached with a Toronto promoter. As part of the pact, the Galaxy players also got a free shopping spree at the Roots clothing store and free meals and drinks at the Ultra Supper Club. In return, those outfits publicized their connection to David Beckham and the suddenly sexy L.A. Galaxy, leading to the mob scene at the dance club. "We were riding David's coattails," Lalas said. "The welcome mat was laid out wherever we went."

Perhaps, but Beckham's handlers were hardly thrilled that he was being used so nakedly for free hotel stays and shopping sprees; they made sure no such "local promoter deals" ever happened again. Even Lalas was uncomfortable with what he had witnessed from the Galaxy's players in Toronto, most of all the 0–0 result against a terrible expansion team. "You guys have to understand," Lalas announced to the team at dinner one night. "All of this comes with a price. And don't for a second think that if this guy"-he pointed to Beckham-"wasn't on our team that we'd be getting this. It's all because of him. Thank you, David, it's been wonderful. But at least David understands this comes with a price, and you pay that price on the field."

Beckham had opened an entirely new world for the Galaxy. For the first time in its history, the team was flying charters instead of using commercial airlines on this ten-day, three-city road trip to Toronto, Washington, D.C., and New England. MLS had always forbidden charter flights, claiming they provided a competitive advantage, although the players reasoned that the ban was the result of the league's cheaper owners not wanting to be pressured into an arms race. ("Don't you want to have a competitive advantage in everything that you do?" Donovan asked.) MLS had relented somewhat upon Beckham's arrival, allowing the Galaxy to charter on his first road trip due to security concerns, and AEG had sprung for the expense. For most of the players the flight from LAX to Toronto was their first noncommercial trip. When the flight attendant came to offer Alan Gordon a pretakeoff cocktail, he looked around at the first-class leather seating, the lie-flat beds, and the fully stocked bar up front.

"Let me tell you something, ma'am," Gordon said, turning on the charm. "This is nicer than my apartment."

The flight attendant laughed.

"No," he replied. "I'm serious."

It was a not-so-subtle reminder that it was too late to be up watching basketball. Yet, for everybody involved it was also too late to turn back. Yes, both teams would likely be going to the NCAA Tournament no matter the outcome and the victor would probably have little energy or interest in playing two more games to try to win the Big East tournament, but they kept playing anyway and I kept watching and it may not have meant anything but it meant everything. There may be better games before this college basketball season is over, but few will be quite as memorable.

And to think it all could have ended in regulation if Eric Devendorf's fingers were just a touch shorter. (Or if Arinze Onuaku wasn't the worst free throw shooter on the planet.) Even if it had ended that way it still would have gone down as a legendary finish. But it couldn't end that way. It had to keep going. Every missed free throw, every player who fouled out after playing an extra half of basketball, even every one of Paul Harris' misadventures near the rim had to happen for that game to become what it was. I just hope your body and your cable box held out long enough to see it.

Syracuse and UConn put on a show for the ages [ESPN]
'Cuse, UConn stage instant classic [Fox Sports]
A Final Tally (and Exhale) After 6 OTs [New York Times]
UConn gets deep-sixed [Boston Globe]
Syracuse Orange/Connecticut Huskies Box Score [Yahoo]

"I'm not going to confirm or deny this. Were we there? Yes. But I'm not going to tell you who it is," Hall said.

The call came in just after midnight. A police dispatcher mentioned a 46-year-old male at the Azalea Circle home but did not indicate whether drugs or alcohol were involved. Thomas is 47.

A woman who answered an intercom at his Purchase home today refused to comment on Thomas' well-being, whereabouts or anything else.

When reached this afternoon, Barry Watkins, vice president of communications for Madison Square Garden, said, "Isiah is fine."

He declined further comment, saying it was a family matter.

ABC News is supposedly saying it was a "sleeping pill overdose".

More updates when more news comes up....

UPDATE: CBS says it was Thomas

• The debut of Ocho Cinco turned out to be Ocho Stinko (yeah yeah. get used to it). With 1 catch for 22 yards so far, he is not impressive. NFL.com still has him listed as Johnson though, so the stats don't count. Right?

• Chiefs quarterback Brody Croyle left the game in the third with an undisclosed injury. Croyle went down on a vicious sack by Adalius Thomas.

• The Seahawks are in baaaad shape. Nate Burleson goes down with an unprovoked injury in the third quarter of the Seahawks/Bills game. With other starting receivers Deion Branch and out already, Seattle is in offensive trouble. Starting running back Maurice Morris also left the game with a knee injury but returned late in the game.

• Vince Young goes down with a knee injury in the 4th quarter. Kerry Collins came off the bench to take over the team and puts LenDale White in for a TD. Said the announcer, "Someone told LenDale there was food in the endzone."

Notables so far:
Donovan McNabb (361 yards, 3 TD's)
Drew Brees (343 yards, 3 TD's)
Michael Turner (214 yards, 2 TD's)
Willie Parker (138 yards, 3 TD's)
Randy (116 yards, 1 TD)

• "It's kind of like Santa's list ... who's nice and who's naughty!" — rjr3790

(Re: The Mitchell Report)

Previous ESPN Featured Comment of the Day, and a Featured Deadspin Response or two ...

• "This is not only bad for TJ, what with his prior neck injuries, but also for the Raptors." — sunderland66

• So if I'm reading this correctly, the commenter is saying that getting hurt may negatively affect you, and losing a key player is detrimental to a team? Even more brilliant than usual. Well done, ESPN commenters. — Peytonloveskenny

• The one up there right now may be even better: "Should I be teaching my fourth-grader to trash talk?" — unorganized mom. — Disgruntled Goat