•Jorge Posada? More like Jorge Pissedoffa, amirite? The Yanks' catcher sparks a bench-clearing brawl with the Blue Jays. Pitcher Jesse Carlson suffered a pretty nasty head wound, making this the worst day of casualties in the history of Canadian wars.

•Bills scapegoat Leodis McKelvin woke up to find painted on his lawn: "learn to take a knee, [obscenity]" As of press time it was still there, since while trying to bring the paint thinner out from the garage, he dropped it.

•They say pitchers are never the same after they come back from shoulder fatigue. In the case of Dice-K, they're right; he looked nothing like the pitcher he was before the injury. He was actually good.

•Was Kim Clijsters cheating by having that baby? Studies show that mothers have higher pain thresholds, and better oxygen flow to the muscles. It's one competitive advantage Caster Semenya will never have.

•Roger Goodell says two Saints won't be suspended as long as the courts are still considering the cases of the Vikings who tested positive for the same banned substance. So, NFLers, now's the time to take whatever you want, and not get punished it. Kind of like always.

•Golden State's Stephen Jackson was fined $25,000 by the league for saying he'd like to be traded to Cleveland, New York, or one of the Texas teams. That's the standard $15k fine for publicly wishing to be traded, and $10k for actually wanting to go to the Knicks.

•Finally, Jon Stewart attempts to lure LeBron James to New York with the promise of Shake Shack. Well, the custard is just as likely to pass him the ball as Nate Robinson.

The Warriors guard waxed philosophical about his game on Bob Fitzgerald's KNBR-680 San Francisco radio show on Sunday. And in trying to describe it, he turned to the classics, as many of us often do.

"Yeah, you know it's like, I don't know if you've seen the movie Last Dragon, there's a guy whose name is Bruce Leroy, and at the end of the movie he got to the point where he worked so hard on all of this kung fu and watching Bruce Lee movies, that he got the glow. That's how I feel right now. I feel like I've got that glow in my game, so I'm at peace with it right now."

Sadly, the rest of the Warriors are remarkably less illuminated; Golden State is 21-42, 29 1/2 games out of first in the Pacific Division, looking to miss the playoffs for the second straight season.

But Jackson is having fun, averaging 21.1 points per game, nearly six games above his career average. He went on to reveal in the radio interview that during coach Don Nelson's show on KNBR earlier last week, he had called in with a fake southern accent pretending to be someone named "Billy from Oakland," and spent two minutes praising "that guy Stephen Jackson."

"I was surprised he didn't catch on, because I talk to coach a lot on the phone and he knows my voice," Jackson said. "And I spent a long time praising myself, but coach did say, 'Well, you've got all the turnovers too,' so he didn't totally go for it."

And don't even pretend that you don't know that there's a The Last Dragon remake in the works, with Samuel L. Jackson as Sho'nuff.

Stephen Jackson Compares Himself To Bruce Leroy Of The Last Dragon [Sports Radio Interviews.com]

Right. Mr. Jackson, Charlie Weis will expect an apology from you immediately.

Captain Jack and Belvedere Vodka [Drunk Athlete]

(Ed. Note: We disagree with this headline.)

Even Ron Artest was better, though only at hip-hop, not randomly leveling strangers in the crowd.

Stephen Jackson Can Ball, Can't Rap [FanIQ]

By most yardsticks, I am kind of a fuck-up. I'm almost 30 and have only had one full-time job; I got fired after six months for taking long lunches and refusing to obey direct orders. I have a Master's, but wasn't disciplined enough to bother with a PhD. And while I've more or less supported myself through writing, you probably won't see my byline in the Times anytime soon. Yet despite my unimpressive resume and shoddy life-choices, it's been a while I've thought of myself as "immature."

According to the dictionary, biological maturity strikes between the ages of 14 and 16. American society holds that we come of age around 21, while my esteemed ethnic tradition says I've been an adult since 13. So while I don't doubt that people change with age, at some point they lose the right to plead—or be chastised with—the immortal spirit of learning, growing, caring and sharing. That's when "immaturity" reaches its deadline and becomes "flawed."

This fall, a certain kind of reporter shuddered when Amare Stoudemire and Stephen Jackson were named captains of the Suns and Warriors, respectively. On the surface, both men's capo status sizzled with irony: These were players with a history of questionable behavior and shaky attitude. If you Google "Amare Stoudemire + immature," you'll be faced with 2,070 results. Do the same for "Stephen Jackson + immature," and you'll get 2,400. In Jack McCallum's awesome "Seven Seconds or Less," Amare comes across as either a well-meaning slacker and a naive egomaniac. Jackson's antics truly need no introduction: He was the real firestarter in the Auburn Hills brawl, unabashedly reps his gang roots, and is not above firing shots over another man's moving vehicle.

However, there's an important distinction here. While Stoudemire's about to turn 25, Jackson's my age. His reign of terror began when he was almost 27 and continues to this day. One can rightfully be called "immature," while the other is just a dude with problems, who won't likely be free of them unless he freaks out and turns to the Deity. This honor could very well help along Amare's personal development. With Jackson, the Warriors are selling their soul to the devil, and I mean that in the best possible sense.

Exhibit A: Amare has shown signs of getting older and wiser—if the ability to mature isn't a sign of immaturity, I don't know what is. Since his comeback, Stoudemire has put in some serious work on his game, becoming a smarter, more responsible player. He's dealt well with going from unquestioned number one option to part of a more balanced attack. And off the court, Stoudemire enrolled in classes at Arizona State to start working toward a college degree. All this with both his mother and half-brother—pretty much the only family Amare had left—embroiled in serious legal trouble.

Stoudemire might not be completely well-adjusted or virtuous, but he's shown a capacity to change for the better. Ironically, that's why it makes sense to call him "immature." Jackson, on the other hand, spent his first few years of pro basketball toiling away in the CBA and overseas. And while it's often forgotten now, Crazy Eyes was once a member of the Spurs in good standing; he was a model teammate who deserves a lot of credit for their 2003 ring. Then, the darkness set in. Perhaps emboldened by some measure of NBA security, in Indiana the Stephen Jackson of myth and symbol became known to us all.

I happen to find Jackson fascinating, especially as he fits into the Golden State cosmology. But I'm not about to make apologies for him: At best, he's regressed emotionally and psychologically since leaving the Spurs, which is a really odd thing to say about an adult. The rhetoric of "immaturity" is unintentionally optimistic, but it's also condescending and possibly racist; let's just agree that Jackson is complex disaster of a human being and stop wondering if he'll come around.

Jackson is a special case, in that he's got a distinguished record of causing bedlam off the court. I don't know the real Stephen Jackson, but I've got a pretty good sense for how his (ahem) professional and personal lives fit together. There's nothing more galling, though, than hearing a player labeled "immature" for reasons that pertain solely to in-game conduct. Here, "immature" isn't just a misnomer, it's being thrown around with insufficient evidence.

The classic example of this is Rasheed Wallace, whose sole sin is his desire to vent, often and always. Sheed's never been a cancer or chemistry-wrecker—in fact, if anything he could stand to be more selfish—and he's widely respected in the locker room and around the league. On top of that, Wallace is a low-key family man who, unfathomably, seems to enjoy smoking pot. But try telling that to John Hollinger, who last month said of him "Youth is fleeting, but immaturity can last a lifetime."

When I think of all the shit Sheed gets, I think about the thousands of upstanding family men who occasionally lose control in their weekend game. Sports are pretty much guaranteed to make people emotional and heated; you could argue that one's true, sordid self comes out in athletic competition, but if that's the case, it's still under wraps most of the time. That's like saying that Freud wanted us to run around screwing our parents.

Freud's grandson Lucien once told me the following: "I paint people not because of what they are like, not exactly in spite of what they are like, but how they happen to be." The truly immature—whether in sports, or down here on the ground with us—are products of how they happen to be. However, the Stephen Jacksons of this planet need to be seen, embraced, or rejected for who they are. You don't tell sharks to grow up, or ask Sir Elton to just get over it. Maybe there's less of a belittling zip to this, but it's more in line with how we consumers actually relate to these folks. And then, just maybe, we'll also learn the difference between a bad guy and one who plays one on the court in spite of himself.

Yeah, apparently Stern's had enough of gunshots and domestic violence. (And haven't we all?)

Jackson of the Golden State Warriors pleaded guilty last month to a felony count of criminal recklessness for firing a gun outside an Indiana strip club last fall, when he was with the Pacers. He was ordered to pay a $5,000 fine and perform 100 hours of community service.

Artest of the Sacramento Kings pleaded no contest in May to a misdemeanor domestic violence charge stemming from a March 5 dispute with his wife, the latest in a string of off-court problems.

And another thing: Why would you ever want Ron Artest and Stephen Jackson off at the same time? Isn't that just asking for more trouble? You gotta stagger that shit, Stern.

NBA Suspends Artest, Jackson For First 7 Games Of Next Season [Yahoo!]

We call it the Stephen Jackson method of self-defense. First, it was Sue, then our hero Jack, and now, Ronnie Wilson, a Florida Gators offensive lineman.

Suspended University of Florida offensive lineman Ronnie Wilson will face a pair of misdemeanor charges stemming from an April incident in which he was arrested and accused of firing an AK-47 rifle into the air to scare a man who had followed Wilson in his car after the men fought in a nightclub.

Why can't nightclub fights just be nightclub fights? What purpose behind a nightclub fight is so noble and just that it must be continue out beyond club doors? How many nightclub fights start for good reasons? Someone stepped on your shoe? Someone accidentally bumped into your Heineken? Someone was staring at your girl's ass? It's a nice ass, man, let it go.

So, yeah ... Mr. Wilson ends up with just misdemeanor charges. I know he didn't hurt anyone, and maybe it was a total act of self-defense, but I'm pretty firmly against the idea of anyone driving around with an AK-47 in their trunk. Either the gun, or Andrei Kirilenko.

UF Football Player Faces Gun Charges [TBO.com]
The Pacers Have Had A Busier Morning Than You [Deadspin]

CBS Sportsline's Clay Travis — who's a little beacon of light in the rad! and dope! world of SPIN over there — chronicles some of the major perils facing athletes in their day to day lives. A couple of our favorites:

• Tasers. Honestly, you're nobody if you haven't been tasered yet.

• Women who will retain your semen after you sleep with them. To quote: "A professional athlete who will remain nameless once told me he caught a woman trying to get his sperm out of a used condom and put it inside her." Yowza.

• Stephen Jackson. You're never, ever safe.

Guns Don't Screw Up Athletes — Athletes Screw Up Athletes [CBS Sportsline]
If They Had To, Most Athletes Could Shoot You Where You Stand [Deadspin]

Well, any goodwill that whole campaign might have earned evaporated around 3 a.m. this morning at a west Indianapolis strip club called Club Rio, when four Pacers were involved in an incident involving gunfire, a vehicular assault and, yes, now that you mention it, a little weed. Oh, and Stephen Jackson was involved. No, really, he was.

[A police officer] said Stephen Jackson fired five shots from a 9-mm handgun after someone hit him in the face and tried to run him over with a vehicle outside Club Rio at about 3 a.m. Video from a security camera outside the club captured part of the incident, and authorities were looking for a blue Oldsmobile.

Jackson, Jamaal Tinsley, Marquis Daniels and Jimmie Hunter had argued with another group of men at the club... one of the men punched Jackson in the mouth and then got into a vehicle and ran into him, police said. The attackers fled after Jackson fired his handgun. Police do not know if anyone was injured or if the bullets struck the man's vehicle.

When they searched the players' car, they did find marijuana, but they didn't find Eddie Griffin, which is probably best for everyone involved. No charges have been filed, and it doesn't appear the players are even being investigated for any crimes ... but it doesn't look good, and the timing, as Larry Bird could surely tell you this morning, stinks.

Police Question Four Pacers After Gunfire [Indianapolis Star]

Pacers crazy puncher man Stephen Jackson has called the NBA's new dress code "racist," and, in the style of Mahatma Gandhi, protested the policy by wearing every single chain in his wardrobe. Meanwhile, Ron Artest has his own statement: "I'll wear, like, purple shoes, yellow slacks, a burgundy shirt, cut-up tie and a lavender sport coat. I'm going to mix it up." That's exactly what we wore to our prom, by the way.

The NBA Dress Code [Blog Maverick]
Not Everyone Crazy About Dress Code [Indianapolis Star]

The fan involved in the incident, Bryant Jackson (who we swear was once on our fantasy football team), received two months probation earlier this year. So that's settled, which means we can go back to making sure that teenager who jumped on the netting at Yankee Stadium this year gets the electric chair.

Artest, O'Neal, Jackson Plead No Contest In Palace Brawl [Detroit Free Press]