Scattershooting while wondering how many hookers it would have taken to keep Kevin Brown happy in a Rangers uniform: While the Yankees and their demon spawn of a fan contingent were in town last weekend, I was reminded of an extreme pet peeve of mine -- the mutation of team colors by certain apparel companies. The Yankees colors are white and blue at home, and gray and blue on the road. Nowhere on the uniform, not even on David Wells' shower shoes in the locker room, does the color lime green appear. This is an abomination, and it makes me crazy. In the Grand Slam gift shop, they've got those colors on a Rangers cap, but according to the sales clerk, no one has bought it so far. Just one more piece of evidence that Texas Rangers fans have more sense than Bronx Zoo specimens. That said, there's something many Metroplex fans are guilty of... the mixing of sports clothing. Repeat after me: "I will not mix sports together." If you're wearing a Cowboys cap, do NOT wear a Rangers shirt at the same time. If you are wearing a Cubs shirt, do NOT wear a Stars cap. The colors don't match, and you look like an idiot. Trust me. If you don't believe it, ask your concubinal interest, be they male or female. NBC has NO idea what to do with a major league baseball game presentation. It's as if they watched FOX's telecasts, wrote down what they liked, and lost two pages when they were in preparation. Maybe popping the graphic with the score, inning, and base runner status up every five minutes worked ten years ago, but the last time I checked my calendar, it was 1998. Next time you mooks broadcast a MLB game, USE THE FREAKING BOX. Steal FOX's if you have to. Yes, I'm spoiled, but it makes the game easier to follow for the casual fan who might get frustrated and give up on the game otherwise. Bob Costas is a great historian of the game of baseball. That said, he is a self-important idiot. His presentation of baseball play-by-play is unexciting, his facts are more spoon-fed to him than the average telecaster, and his sense of humor seems to be locked in the closet back at his hotel room. I wish you, gentle reader, could have been privy to the conversations with his producer between commercials, as I was during Friday's game in Arlington. My cat has more sense. While I'm at it... Bob "My nose is so firmly planted in George Steinbrenner's ass that I can't breathe" Costas is the Angel of Death, and can not be allowed to broadcast another game in Arlington again. Case in point: Friday night, Bob calls the crucial Game 3 at the Ballpark, and the Yankees complete a three-game sweep of the Rangers. He catches a flight to Chicago. Saturday night, Bob calls the crucial Game 3 at Wrigley Field, and the Braves complete a three-game sweep of the Cubs. I'm telling you, he's a menace, and must be stopped at all costs. Do not allow his plane to land, if you value your team! One last Rangers note, and I'll sulk about the lost opportunities in private: following the Stars open house at Reunion last week, I broke bread with the legendary J.D. at Sonny Bryan's. He was talking about going to Friday's game, and I suggested Friday's Front Row as an alternative to paying scalper's prices. The offer was intriguing, but he didn't want a bad scene caused. He envisioned it thusly: "Look... there's the guy that started calling 'em 'the little red-shoed Rangers!' Let's get him!" --Devin Pike P.S. -- There is no humor in what Darryl Strawberry is undergoing. Thank God the surgery went well, and the cancer hadn't spread. Get well, Straw.