He’s Ready to Lead Off With Signature Statement

Woody Allen once said 90% of life was showing up so, well, here I am.

So far as an introduction, the head honchos rejected my idea to co-opt the Clippers’ latest ad campaign to ballyhoo the news.

You’ve seen the spots: “I’m Darius Miles. I was the Clippers’ first pick in the draft this year. Now, everyone keeps telling me I have to learn to drive in L.A. But I’m not worried.”

I wanted to fudge the copy for purposes of self-aggrandizement.. . . Come out and watch me write this season. And watch me take a few guys to verb-tense school! The real problem with starting a weekly column, without a doubt, is coming up with a signature line.

The good ones have been exhausted, which is what I became trying to come up with one.

I wonder if the early cave dwellers had this problem.

Hey, Gork, what do you think works best for the weekly newsletter, Slate Scratches, Mud Mutterings or Neanderthal Notes?

Post-Gutenberg press, I imagined Ben Franklin--the great publisher, statesman and kite flyer--sorting through the pun possibilities: “Franklin’s Hot Stove League Notes,” or, for the Boston syndicate, “Frank and Beans.”

Frankly, the Department of the Interior needs to put the quality signature line on the endangered species list.

Among the great ones that have been taken off the board:

* In the wake of the news (Chicago Tribune)

* I want to talk sports with you. (Lee Hamilton)

* No flipping (Larry Sanders)

* And that’s the way it is (Walter Cronkite)

* From the desert to the sea . . . (Jerry Dunphy)

* Outside the Lines (ESPN)

* Real Sports (HBO)

* Goin’ Deep (FOX)

* All the news that’s fit to print (New York Times)

* Hot Corner (Los Angeles Times)

* All Things Considered (National Public Radio)

* Air and Space (Sports Illustrated)

* The Hall Truth (terrific if your name is either Hall or Truth)

* Notes on a Scorecard (Allan Mallamud, RIP)

Bud Tucker led his column with “Nobody flew in on a noon balloon from Saskatoon and asked me. . .” while Dallas legend Blackie Sherrod coined “Scattershooting while wondering whatever happened to . . .

Jimmy Cannon revolutionized the literary device with his “Nobody asked me but . . . “

I racked my brain over this.

You should have seen the names that didn’t make the cut:

Keeping Tabs, Second Draft, The Sporting Muse, Monday Morning (I want my) Quarter back).

I plowed the fertile fields of sporting word play: Between the Lines, Over the Line, One Toke Over the Line, Overs and Unders, Designated Hitter, Punch and Judy, Slidin’ into Second and So Far Out In Left I Can’t See Home.

I considered Squeeze Play, Double Switch, Top of the Second, Keeping Score, On Deck and In the Hole.

I rejected outright Sods and Ends, Page 2 Boy, Yankee Dugout Doodles, My Blank Pages, Hack on a Rope, While England Slept, Get a Grip, Punch Drunk, Writer’s Cup, In the Read Zone, Outer Limits, The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, Double Drivel, Offsides, Scorecard, CNN World Report, Ramblings, Yan Can Cook, Danglin’ Participles and the Poseidon Adventure-inspired, “There has to be a morning after Tim Kawakami’s ‘Morning After.”’

I toyed with No Cover Charge, Not the Other Page 2 Guy!, Word Play, Man at Work and Any Given Monday.

Alliterations intrigued me: Monday Morning Musings, Weekend Wrap, Power Plays, and Peter Piper Picked a Pickled Player Off Second.

Really, though, what’s in a name? The important thing is to be topical, relevant, informative and opinionated.

On this day, in this space, for however long it lasts--tick, tick, tick--we will explore, delve and dive into all matters sporting. We’ll try keep it tight, keep it light and, unlike most Florida State kickers, not whack it wide right.

Let’s face it, some Page 2 guys are cynical and mean.

Not in my casa.

I love the smell of freshly-cut baseball grass in spring, the dog days of August, the Ides of March and June Jones.

I think Allen Iverson’s latest poetry ranks right up there with Robert Frost’s “The Road Not Taken.”

I can’t wait for Oscar De La Hoya’s follow-up CD. Who says a guy can’t hit a speed bag and all the high notes?

I consider baseball to be a metaphor for life and George Will to be its official spokesman.

I bought every gooey line of Kevin Costner’s rant in “Bull Durham,” except the part about the designated hitter, which I happen to love as much as Harold Baines, Edgar Martinez and the baseball players’ union.

I think Bill Bidwill would make a terrific NFL franchise owner in Los Angeles, that the Clippers are always a player away from contention, that Paul Hackett just needs time, that this spring chicken XFL has a chance, that the Angels just need an arm, or two, or three, and that the suits at Fox won’t ultimately be remembered for leading the Dodgers from Ebbets to debits.

Then again, on second thought . . .