Sport fans need advice columnists, too. Regular Joes had Ann Landers. The Regular Joes’ weird aunts and uncles had Dear Abby. Well, we’ve got Ms. Crabby for the disgruntled sports fan. She’s our newly added staff member except we can’t say the words “staff” or “member” near her… but anyway. Please send in your sports gripes, complaints and legitimate questions. Here are our first few letters:

    Dear Ms. Crabby: The way David Stern penalized Stoudemire and Diaw of the Suns for barely leaving the bench during a brawl was despicable. He cost our team the championship. How can I get revenge on Mr. Stern and what is the best drink to drown my sorrows? Signed: Scalded in Scottsdale.

    Dear Poor, Poor Scalded: Hey, that’s sports, buddy. If your big guys leave the bench during a scuffle, you’re busted. Have you ever heard of “rules” or has the desert sun fried whatever brains you woke up with? Stern might seem a little harsh, dummy, but what do you expect from a guy named STERN? Now, as far as that drink, you can walk out into the desert, find a peyote cactus, squeeze out the mescaline, pour it into a Stoli, then add some limes so it’ll be doubly bitter when you’re dreaming of what might have been.

    Dear Ms. Crabby:  I believe this Roger Clemens special treatment contract with the Yankees will destroy sports. He’ll be paid a million dollars a game but not travel with the team, and be allowed to take off for personal reasons whenever he wants. That’s no way to be a team mate. This agreement violates everything that’s pure about sports. What’s the best way to kidnap George Steinbrenner and persuade him he shouldn’t do this or, at least, to recognize other players deserve equal treatment.  Signed: Alex R. 

    Dear poor, poor, little Alex:  Seven time Cy Young award winner Roger Clemens doesn’t want to ride on the bus? And this is going to upset the war in Iraq? Make the planet spin off its axis? Awwww, sorry if I don’t get all veklempt, little Alex. The Yankees need pitching.   Clemens is a Hall-of-Famer who can name his own terms. Some things are not fair. Mother Theresa’s dead yet Mickey Rourke still lives. Don Ho died during a week you couldn’t mention the word “Ho.” Rush Limbaugh gets to have a radio show. Melinda Doolittle out sings everyone and still gets kicked off Idol. Some things are not fair. As far as kidnapping Steinbrenner, you can lure him out to the parking lot with Reuben sandwiches. Pile on loads of sauerkraut.       

    Dear Ms. Crabby: Jason Giambi admitted taking steroids and they forgave him. Why can’t that idiot Bonds just fess up and accept his records won’t be for real? Can you tell me why he won’t do this, Ms. Crabby? Signed: Martha in Milwaukee.

    Dear Martha: Cut Bonds some slack cause he’s not evil. He’s got a big gigantic steroid enhanced head and doesn’t know why. It’s not his fault he can’t remember. It’s the bay area fog. If you grow up in the bay area, your memory is faulty.  OJ couldn’t remember offing his wife. MC Hammer couldn’t remember all his money slipping through his parachute pants and Barry can’t remember taking steroids. Now get back to swilling your beer, eating brats and protecting serial killers named Jeffrey.

    Are there any other sports fans with questions? Send them on. Ms. Crabby is ready.