Sports Briefs: The Net Nanny

If it weren't for Dwyane Wade's habitual habit of dominating, he would make the perfect nanny.

As Jane and Michael Banks requested in their search for a guardian they could take advantage of: "If you want this choice position, have a cheery disposition, rosy cheeks, no warts; play games, all sort. You must be kind, you must be witty, very sweet and fairly pretty. Take us on outings, give us treats, sing songs, bring sweets. Never be cross or cruel, Never give us Castor oil or gruel. Love us as a son and daughter, and never smell of barley water. If you won't scold and dominate us, we will never give you cause to hate us. We won't hide your spectacles so you can't see, put toads in your bed or pepper in your tea. Hurry, Nanny! Many thanks. Sincerely, Jane and Michael Banks."

As opposed to those athletes whose body odor is more reminiscent of barley water than Cool Water, or for those who would look better wearing surgical stockings than spectacles, Wade would make the perfect Mary Poppins, especially after his recent guest appearance on "Supernanny."

Joe Frost was faced with a getting Anthony Jr. (also referred to as Anthony the Pyrooter or Anthony Los Bandido) to help out around the house. Joe decided that her two best options were either allowing one of his NBA idols to talk some sense into the boy or chaining Anthony Jr. to a rack and begin peeling his skin off using a razor blade.

Fortunately, the injured Miami Heat star, Wayne, as my wife referred to him, met up with the boy and played one-on-one with him. This saved Anthony Jr. from ever having to experience first-hand what a potato feels like.

I seemed to get the indication that Wayne wasn't playing as hard as he could against Anthony Jr., as evidenced by Anthony Jr. elbowing Wayne in the face and knocking him to the floor. But this could be because Kobe Bryant is more of a hero to Anthony Jr. than Wayne.

While knowing that Wayne appeared on the season finale of "Supernanny" isn't quite as riveting as being able to critique Mike Piazza's appearance on "The Bold and the Beautiful," I was able to use a form of skulduggery to convince my wife that she should play my new video game, NBA 2K7 with me as compensation.

Since neither of us had played the game, I inveigled my wife into believing that I was no better at it than her. This disregards me being the Simon Legree of NBA 2K6, 2K3, 2K1 and 2K. But this is what is known as chicanery.

I chose the teams for my wife and I, giving my wife the Mavericks and myself the Bobcats, in an effort to provide myself more of a challenge. If I had chosen a better team, I would have been expected to win by triple digits. But by being Charlotte, I was now, in essence, challenging myself to win by more than 50.

The game was quickly seized control of by me when I fell behind by 12. (Use of indirect objects brought to you by the writer, in an effort to confuse the reader.)

Unlike previous installments of the NBA 2K series, the PlayStation 2's buttons had different functions in this game. I was able to catch up to my wife, as the game came down to the final minute. I went up by two points, leaving four seconds on the clock.

My wife had a chance to win at the end, but did not even attempt a 3-point shot, mainly because she wasn't watching the clock. We were also trying to ascertain if Dirk Nowitzki had underarm hair or not.

She was hooked. My wife switched to the Miami Heat in her rematch, certain that Wayne could help her out. He did, and my wife's first sporting victory over me occurred in overtime, as Wayne and the Heat beat my team, Chicago. As in real life, the officials favored him to the point where they began a conga line of scratching each other's backs halfway through the third quarter.

As for my wife's compensation for beating me, it involves another television paradigm, "Wife Swap." I'm not sure yet whether we'll be watching or participating.