Three Stars (and one team that makes the L.A. riots look like a well-organized small-town festival)

Last night’s studs:

1. VLADIMIR GUERRERO -- Vladdy put on a clinic last night to win the home run derby, not just hitting a whack of dingers, but crushing the ball harder than an Optimus Prime upper cut (you haven’t seen Transformers yet? Go. Now. Run!). His crazy posse added some fun to the mix, as they pranced around like Vladdy just hit a walk off in the World Series or it was the first time they’d seen electricity.

2. ALEX RIOS -- With just 45 career homers to Rios’ name, some people were questioning his inclusion in the derby. Though he lost in the final to Vladdy, the lanky outfielder silenced his critics, smashing 12 homers in the second round and almost making Chris Berman’s “back back back” routine tolerable. Almost.

3. GEOFF PEVERE -- We were this close to giving a star to the winner of Stage 2 of the Tour de France, which we think is a tournament where French people race down a beach against three-legged dogs. Instead, we gave one to this Toronto Star movie reviewer for unleashing this badassery on Robin Williams (God, we can’t wait for the NFL to return):

Just when you’d thought last year’s RV represented the absolute pit of that special hell reserved just for Robin Williams movies, License to Wed comes along and digs Satan a whole new basement.

Eat it, Mork.

AND ONE TEAM THAT MAKES THE L.A. RIOTS LOOK LIKE A WELL-ORGANIZED, SMALL-TOWN FESTIVAL: THE NEW YORK ISLANDERS -- The madness continues. New York named Bill Guerin its captain. Yeah, the same Bill Guerin who has yet to play a game for the Isles.

Our guess is the Islanders’ office looks something like this: a poorly-run restaurant with a dozen illegal immigrant cooks screaming at each other in different tongues. Pots and pans are crashing everywhere, there’s a stove on fire, some children are hanging in cages from the roof, a legless G.I. is writhing around the ground screaming in pain after stepping on a landmine, and Garth Snow is sitting on a stool in the middle of it all, wearing high-heeled shoes and smugly trying to decide how he’ll rearrange his mantle for a Stanley Cup.