Last night's studs:
1. THE BRONX BOMBERS -- are they scary these days or what? The Yanks smashed eight homers yesterday. And we're not talking about those crappy inside-the-park homers you got when you played your dad in Ken Griffey Baseball on Super Nintendo and he didn't know how to field and ran his outfielder into the right field wall and let you turn singles into round-trippers. We're talking moonshots. We wouldn't bet against them snaking the Wild Card.
2. THE CELTICS AND TIMBERWOLVES -- now here's a good trade. We admittedly ripped Danny Ainge a few months back for his desperate Ray Allen deal, but we have to give him props for going the whole nine yards now. Sure, he absolutely gutted his team's young core, but who cares? With Allen, Paul Pierce and now KG, the Celts will compete every night. Who knows what they'll do this year?
The T-Wolves should feel great about their return too, which included Al Jefferson, Gerald "Dunk Contest" Green and a stable of vets and picks. Who knows? Maybe we'll be talking about a T-Wolves dynasty in five years, saying "Man, do you realize they got all the main pieces of this team back in the Garnett trade?" Reminds us of the Lindros-to-Philly deal that eventually won the Nordiques, er, Avalanche, the Stanley Cup.
3. KELLY JOHNSON -- so you're a male named Kelly. That sucks. How do you escape ridicule? Go four for four at the dish and smash two bombs in one night. (Presumably) have intercourse with two or more chicks at the same time. Show everyone you're a big, strong man. He must've been watching Shelley Duncan highlights last week.
AND THREE LEGENDS WHO JUST AREN'T BEING LEGENDARY ENOUGH THESE DAYS AND ARE REALLY STARTING TO ANNOY US: BARRY BONDS, TOM GLAVINE AND ALEX RODRIGUEZ -- Hurry up already, guys. Hit your milestones. If we hear or read one more "could this be baseball's ultimate, magical supercalifragilisticexpialidicious night of history?" comment, we'll shoot ourselves. No, we'll spend a day with Mimi from Drew Carey. And kiss her private parts.