Today, is sort of an anniversary. It was one year ago this week that this column was rescued from the grimy death of Oddjack and reconstituted for mass consumption via Deadspin. Admittedly, it got off to an extremely slow start that deserved all of the derision and deafening silence that it endured through those first early, abysmal columns.

The goal of this rebirth, if there was any, was to completely destroy any last remnants of "oddsmaking" that I had to endure and parse through as part of my daily Oddjackian grind. I do not have fond memories of that blog, but the Oddsmaker column was one that sometimes contributed to a little traffic spike, giving me a sliver of hope for my survival as a "professional blogger" under the auspices of Gawker Media. However, one fluky traffic spike per month did not a successful blog make. So I was canned. Over IM, no less. (Thank you, Lockhart Steele, you WASP-y cocksucker.)

Anyway, last year at this time I was miserable. I was a runny-nosed mess, half-assing my way out of another "job" and barely able to hold a conversation with a bowl of fruit, let alone an actual person. Today, it's different; I'm more focused, motivated and invigorated by life. I no longer spend my weekends taking quick morning naps on the F-train platform next to pigeons nor urinate on inanimate (or, sometimes, animate) objects. Now, my weekends are spent furniture shopping at Raymour and Flannigan or learning how to make a fritatta. And I'd like to introduce you to my new friends: Orange, apple, the internet. The internet, this is orange, and that handsome devil right there is apple.

See? Progress.

Onto the issue at hand, which is acknowledging this column's jaunty goose step towards death. I'm celebrating by going all soothsayer and attempting to gaze into the murky future to predict what the major sports stories will be at this time next year.

So this week, I'm putting on my purple turbin, lathering up a gypsy and placing odds on the lead sports stories for June 2008.

J to the Ump.

Serena Williams Catastrophic Breakdown: 3/1

Even though sports entertainment has become more and more tabloid friendly, it's still in dire need of a female equivalent of a Lohan/Hilton/Spears downward spiral into pantyless lunacy. There are plenty of candidates (See: Wie, Michelle), but Serena Williams seems to be teetering ever so closely toward fuck-it-all complacency. The signs are all there: Demanding father, talent regression, nagging injuries, curious choices in boyfriend, and the loss of competitive drive. Not to mention, not answering calls from her personal trainer. It appears that someone put too much yeast in those brownies.

Alex Rodriguez Can No Longer Hide His Secret Lover: 2/1

The new Mrs(Mr.?) Rodriguez shall finally be unveiled to the wanting public, as A-Rod's mistress will no longer settle for being devoid of the spotlight. There's a reason why the man is on pace for a career year with the Yankees; it's because of a woman who's full of heart, wisdom and androstenedione. But no one can deny what a weekly bedroom workout with a lady who can bend a nickel between her rhomboids does for bat speed. Rodriguez will also attempt to change his nickname from "A-Rod " to something more befitting his current emotional state: Rod Sonja.

Barry Bonds Goes Into Hiding: 5/1

On the heels of his 764th home run, Mr. Bonds has decided to walk away from the game — and the rest of society — because he's "done everything he can" with his baseball career and can no longer suffer the disrespect of fans and media. And therefore the greatest player in baseball history has decided to just...vanish. Would anyone care? Only because he'd no longer be around to poke with a stick. Giant head or not, Mr. Bonds has to be considered a tragic figure, but one who ultimately doesn't realize his surly attitude and ignorance has tarnished records, but also deprived fans of the game the opportunity to actually root for a guy that's making baseball history. He'll realize this. Someday. Maybe next year.

San Antonio Spurs Win Fifth NBA Title: 10/1

The chances of this being a major story while the top two are circulating are very, very slim. Who watched last night's game? Who watched the NBA reveal its newest dynasty? Echo, echo, echo...

Unless the NBA decides to provide up-skirt camera angles for Eva Longoria next season, there's absolutely no chance that the Spurs "domination" would achieve front page news any place outside of San Antonio. And even there, it's still a risky play. But things change. They always do. For better, for worse, forever. Finis.

We're going to make sure A.J. makes more than a few appearances here at Deadspin, but we better do it fast: We're not the only ones with that idea. Here's a tip of a fruity beverage to Daulerio and Oddjack: You'll be missed. To quote Kirk at the end of Wrath of Khan (which happens to be playing on our television this very second): "Of my friend, I can only say this: of all the souls I have encountered in my travels, his was the most ... human."

Oh, and remember: Oddjack has a dragon. He has named him Blop-o-nartus. Yep.

Oddjack
Rock And A Hard Place: Jayson Blair [The Black Table]

The next week-and-a-half will feature Oddjack unleashed, so, you know, it should be pretty fun to watch. We highly recommend you checking it out; call it your online equivalent of watching "Arrested Development" before they take it off the air.

Oddjack
Oddjack Shuttered

(In the interest of full disclosure, we should tell you we are co-editors of The Black Table with Mr. Daulerio, and, in addition, that's the first time anyone has ever called him "Mister.")

Tyson Favored To Be Hooked On Phonics [Oddjack]

We were in Tokyo for a preseason game. Afterward I went to my room to take a shower. Other girls came in, and they were sitting around eating when there was a knock on the door. I figured it was another cheerleader, so I said, "Come in." The door opened and it was a couple of players. I was like, "Shut my door. What are you guys doing?" I m in a towel. It looks bad though I do look good in a towel. Sure enough, I got caught. A high-profile player, who shall remain nameless, was hiding in my shower.

Perry's bio is here; Oddjack confirms through his own sources that it's Manning. We love this idea; Manning's teammates find out which room the cheerleaders are staying in, barge in, dispatch Manning to the shower and then commence with the humping. The stern cheerleader director then shows up, the damage long since done and over, comes in and finds a sheepish Manning aw-shucks-ing in the shower. Oopsy! Sorry, Miss!

Peyton Manning Might Actually Like Chicks [Oddjack]

Two thoughts on this: One, we have a suspicion that A-Rod is a terrible poker player. Two, now that A-Rod will no longer be going to the games, he can get back to his preferred nighttime activity. So that's nice.

A-Rod's Poker Problem [Oddjack]
A-Rod Takes His Swings [Deadspin]

You can see the most likely suspects right there. You can only vote once, so, you know, sorry Peyton, you can stop trying to load up the bots to vote for Piazza right now.

The poll will be up until 4 p.m. tomorrow afternoon, so make your voice heard, because nothing says "National Barometer Of Public Opinion" than a poll on a Web site.

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