In his decision, Arbitrator Richard R. Kasher found that Smith's firing violated the paper's CBA with the Philadelphia Lollipop Newspaper Guild, and ordered the Inquirer's parent company to make things right. This could potentially pave the way for Smith's return as a columnist, or (more likely) lead to some type of monetary award. And based on how much Smith was scheduled to earn, it could be a nice chunk o' change:

According to the Guild account, [Smith's] agreement called for Smith to write a minimum of 75 columns a year for an annual salary of $125,000. At the end of one year, in February of 2006, Smith would have the option of resigning, of extending the agreement, or of returning as a full-time columnist, at a salary of $190,000.

The Guild reported the contract said if he went back to full-time employment, his salary would increase to $205,000 in June 2006, and to $225,000 in June 2007. Smith ultimately chose to return to work at the paper full-time.

With newsroom layoffs taking place at the beginning of 2007, Editor William Marimow [Ed. note: Hey, that's David Simon's old boss!] balked at awarding a $20,000 raise.

While Stephen A. has since moved on to bigger and better things, this has to be a welcome result for him. Now he can focus his attention on that other gross injustice plaguing his career- his continued exclusion from the Deadspin Hall of Fame.

Firing of 'Inky' Sports Columnist Stephen Smith 'Unjust,' Arbitrator Rules [Editor & Publisher]

Former White Sox pitcher Jack McDowell is a blogging now and he has a cautionary tale for Mark Buehrle and anyone else who thinks they are indestructible. James Andrews can destroy you. Here's Jack's version of how his baseball career ended at the tender age of 31:

My pain was finally diagnosed as a pinching of what is called plica between the bones of my outer elbow. Plica is basically the sheath of fibrous material that holds your joints together while you are developing as a child. This is not an injury they had ever heard of and it was basically a fluke. But that wasn't the fluke that ended my career.

[...]

The other option was for Dr. James Andrews to surgically remove the plica that was effected. This option was described as one of the most basic and non-evasive surgeries a pitcher could have. They'd just go in and out, not mess with ligaments etc. When the outside skin was healed, the inside skin would be healed and I'd be back in 4 or 5 weeks.

Well to make a super long story significantly shorter, Dr. Andrews placed the scope in an area behind my elbow that severed and killed the nerve to the anconeus muscle of my elbow. I was 31 years old. The end. I tried to pitch without that muscle but the instability of my elbow would not allow me to stay out there consistently.

Wait, did Jack McDowell just say that James Andrews—inventor of the Tommy John surgery, sculptor of torn labrums, master of the arthroscope—accidentally destroyed his elbow during an otherwise routine procedure?

That's another complete book in itself. I'll get into that at another time. A lawsuit was pursued and never taken to court because nobody would testify against him...because he owns Health South, and they own everyone. Crazy shit.

Okayyyyy. Are you sure it didn't have anything to do with getting knocked the eff out in that bar fight with Eddie Vedder, because it would probably be much easier to sue him.

Mark Buehrle, the Hall Of Fame and the end of my career [Chicago Now]

Craig Ross, group publisher of SI South Africa, sent us this statement:

Several months ago, Saatchi and Saatchi SA presented this campaign concept to our staff and it was immediately dismissed for its for its lack of proper judgment and insensitivity. Without our knowledge or consent, these storyboards were entered into an industry contest and published on that contest's website.

Well, that makes sense. This is the Sports Illustrated brand we're talking about, and as you know, Sports Illustrated covers never, ever lack for sensitivity or proper judgment.

EARLIER: Sports Illustrated South Africa's Quirky New Ad Campaign: Black Panthers, Hitler

8. UVa at UConn (-12.5)- Remember how Al Groh was supposed to revitalize Cavs football? Yeah, those dreams have long since passed. Now dontfirealgroh.com gets more and more frustrating each week. Already Cavs fans are rooting for the good ole days when their players were being arrested at gay bars to return. But has it really gotten to the point where a UConn team that scored 12 points on Temple, Temple!, opens as a favorite by more than 12 over Virginia? Yep, that time has come. UVa beat UConn last year 17-16. But you have to take UVa with that spread, right?

7. Oregon (-8) at Purdue- This game will take 5 hours to play and end with a score of something like 56-49. The new college football rules designed to shorten the game have no prayer of helping here. Joe Tiller is the most reliably average of all Big Ten coaches. He's good for 7 or 8 wins a year (10 bowl games in 11 seasons) and will inevitably have at least a single game in September that makes you think Purdue might be a factor. Then, they aren't. Unless it's sleeting and his mustache freezes. Then, you have to watch.

Oregon is probably USC's most legit challenger in the Pac-10 and no one has mentioned them all season. Why? Because as much as the Pac-10 complains about a lack of media attention on the East Coast, the only Pac-10 teams that get any West Coast media attention are in major markets in California.

The most interesting thing about this game? Both teams had a bye coming in. Why? (Note, evidently this is not true. Both teams actually played games; Purdue-Northern Colorado and Oregon-Utah State. Even still, I stand by my bye week statement.) The second most interesting thing about this game, Oregon is traveling to Indiana for a football game. Again, why? This is one of those cross-regional games that makes no sense. Does Purdue bring in northwest recruits? No. Does Oregon hit up Indiana for players? No. Have Purdue and Oregon fans been clamoring for this match-up? No. So, why play? Just so the Pac-10 and the Big 10 can play another game on the same day as USC-Ohio State that no one on earth will remember? Brilliant.

But look at all the pretty touchdowns.

6. Auburn (-10.5) at Miss. State- Last year Miss. State and Sylvestor Croom found a way to beat Auburn at Auburn. Now, Auburn has a new quarterback, a new offensive coordinator, a new defensive coordinator, has looked mediocre in two wins thus far and they are favored by two scores in a road game. This makes zero sense to me. Granted State has looked horrible, but even when State wins they look horrible. How could you not take MSU here? I'll tell you, if Croom makes the mistake of scheduling the team fieldtrip to the only escalator in Starkville on the Friday before this game. Last year three starters were injured trying to walk the "magic stairs."

5. Oklahoma (-20) at Washington- Can you imagine what will happen if the officials, feeling sorry for Washington's excessive celebration penalty last week, blow another call on the west coast in favor of a Pac-10 school against Oklahoma. I'm rooting for this to happen just to see Bob Stoops storm the field and choke the head ref to death with his headset cord. Otherwise the Ty Willingham death march is likely to continue.

4. Michigan (-2) at Notre Dame- The fact that Michigan is favored in this game speaks volumes about Jimmy Clausen's hair. Because if you've watched Michigan's offense thus far they look like Australian aboriginees being instructed in how to build websites without first learning to read. Yet, amazingly, the over/under on this game is 37. How? The score of this game is going to be 13-10 Michigan and after it's over, Charlie Weis's amazingly invisible crotch is going to be soiled. But not for long. Immediately after he soils himself, Notre Dame fans will arrive to lick up his mess. All the while exclaiming, "Oh, yeah, Ty Willingham's the one who really blows. This isn't a blow job, this is just a European crotch cleaning."

3. Kansas at South Florida (-3.5)- This game is actually being played on Friday which means 99% of college football fans are going to think, man that sounds like a good game. Only the game will already have been played before we realize it's going on. Which is a shame because Kansas's Mark Mangino and USF's Jim Leavitt are the two angriest coaches on the sideline not named Mike Gundy. Kansas hasn't lost since John Brown's Raid but South Florida is favored at home. Anyone who tells you they have any idea what's going to happen in this game is a fool. USF is the moderately attractive girl of college football. Except she's bipolar. One party she's ski-polling two guys while sitting on the drier, the next weekend she's worn a navy pantsuit to the party and is crying into her Cranberry Diet Mike's Hard Lemonade. I'm sure this is tough to take for USF fans.

Hopefully for Mark Mangino's sake he'll avoid having his picture taken alongside oranges this time.

2. Georgia (-7.5) at South Carolina- Steve Spurrier is reverting to 1994 and plans on alternating between his two quarterbacks, Smelley and Beecher. Neither of them is any good and they're probably not going to be able to throw bubble screens to wide receiver Kenny McKinley, who has an injured hamstring. Meanwhile, Georgia comes into town incensed because Mark May didn't invite Knowshon Moreno onto the set and let him demonstrate his great leaping ability by tea-bagging Lou Holtz. Also, former Georgia defensive end David Pollack is now a member of the CBS announcing team. In what capacity, I'm not sure. There's a strong part of me that wants his only role to be high-skipping into the press box while barking with Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson walking calmly behind him.

This game may be the last chance Steve Spurrier has to prove he's still relevant. Otherwise he sinks to 1-7 in his last 8. It's also one of two early SEC East games (the other is Florida-UT) where every other SEC East fanbase needs to be rooting for the underdog to win so chaos rules in the SEC East.

1. Ohio State (-11.5) at USC- Too much has been said about this game already. And the most interesting question, hasn't even been answered. How much does USC have to beat Ohio State (sans Beanie) by to guarantee that Ohio State has no chance to play in the BCS title game? 30? 40? I'm interested in the number because I really have no idea.

I've had this same black leather bag from Dell that my laptop goes in since I went to college. I think my dad gave it to me.

Today, I figured out that this compartment on the back of it opens all the way and has two big pockets to stick papers and shit in. It's really cool and it's like I have a new laptop bag. It made my day. Kind of like the time in my freshman year when I was having sex with my girlfriend and I figured out I could stick it in her ass and she didn't mind.

I later found out that she was a total whore before dating me, so hopefully my black laptop bag doesn't fall apart or something tomorrow.

Well, it appears everything can't work out this offseason for the Mets. The sign guy died. The Phillies are once again the team to beat in the National League East.

Anyway, that's it for me today. Please continue to tip early and often and we'll resume play in just a few short hours from now.

Ehrhardt, Mets witty sign guy, dies at 83 [ESPN]

Clint Dempsey couldn't understand what I was doing standing at the edge of the Fulham pitch, shivering like Jack Bauer after a bout of waterboarding in a Chinese prison, and, frankly neither could I.

"All the way from New York, huh?" said Dempsey as a doctor amputated my big toe that had long ago lost all circulation from the artic winds that whipped around Craven Cottage in the gathering dusk.

I had come to London Thursday to spend 48 hours getting my game face on—think Danny DeVito on The View—for Arsenal's epic collision with ManU when word burbled up from the sludge of my Guinness-soaked brain that the Deuce was back in town and ready to rock the Prem. Thanks to Deadspin's growing reputation as the Drinking Fan's Guide to British football, I was able to cadge a credential—if not a pint!—in Fulham's press room. There, I ran into Brian Glanville or "the Man from The Sunday Times" as the awed Fulham flack referred to him. I asked him why Fulham was so sweet on American players—McBride, Bocanegra, and now Dempsey.

"They're cheap, they're available and they speak the language," explained the eminence gris of British soccer writers. Here he paused a beat. "Unlike, say, Beckham." Oh the English are having a jolly olde time with Becks' decision to forsake the Premiership—he was reportedly wooed by Tottenham and Bolton—for the MLS. "He has given up grownup football for filthy American lucre," is how Glanville sees it.

Which makes Dempsey's four million dollar leap across the pond in the other direction all the more interesting. He is arriving in England at a time when mocking American soccer appears to be the country's SECOND favorite sport. "Obviously the level is higher and the speed of play is faster than in the MLS," Dempsey said after being blooded in the Premiership for the final 13 minutes of Fulham's 1-1 draw with Spurs. "It's more comparable to the World Cup."

Ah, the World Cup where Dempsey emerged from the wreckage as the one American player whose reputation was actually enhanced. His venomously struck goal against Ghana all but screamed "Hello, my name is Clint Dempsey and I am ready to leave MLS."

It took seven months of byzantine negotiations for MLS to part with their most valuable export but all that was forgotten when the public address announcer at Craven Cottage blared "Coming on for Moritz Volz, number 23 Clint Dempsey."

As Dempsey ran out onto the field, a chant went up in the north end of the stadium. :U-S-A, U-S-A" . Dempsey has heard the chant before, of course, but this was different. This wasn't Uncle Sam's Army serenading him but a bunch of hardbitten Englishmen who pride themselves on having invented the game and need to be convinced that Americans have any business playing it.

"That was cool," said Dempsey of the chanting. "It helped me get the jitters out." Dempsey knows how to play only one way—balls out—and within seconds of coming on, he was launching himself into tackles with his usual abandon. In the 83rd minute he won a 50-50 ball deep in the Fulham end by sliding into Spurs striker Robbie Keane. Both went down in a tangle of legs but Dempsey emerged with the ball and advanced upfield before executing a cheeky backheel to Michael Brown who thumped a pass into the box. The ball fell to McBride and his volley hit a Spurs defender in the hand. When Montella converted the penalty, Fulham led 1-0 and Dempsey had the satisfaction of knowing he had started the move resulting in the goal.

"It's nice that two Americans were involved in the goal," Dempsey said afterwards. "But I'm not looking at it that way. I just want to get fully fit and contribute. Considering that I haven't played since November, it felt good to get a runout."

So determined is Dempsey to get back into shape he ran windsprints for half an hour after the game. When he finally walked off the field, he looked like your typical English pro, his body covered with sweat, grime, and cleat marks.

Will he be composing a rap in honor of his Premiership debut?

"No," he smiled. "I'm retired from rapping. I just want to focus on soccer and chillin'."

The Deuce is loose in London. Respect.

The recent surge in baseball stadiums encouraging fans to send text messages to show on the scoreboard is an encouraging one; we've heard rumors of a "You're With Me, Leather" at Busch Stadium, though no screenshot exists yet, and we haven't hit the zenith of a "Get Away From Me, Carl Monday" at Jacobs Field so far.

So, for now, we simply salute this minor sighting of "I'm The Hoff" at Miller Park in Milwaukee. We love this practice. We can all do better, yes?