Sorry, folks...

I used to absolutely love Bill Simmons. For a fair while, I read his stuff religiously.

Now he's entirely hit or miss for me because so many of his jokes are complicated gambling/pop culture references that I just don't get, and the others are the same three or four jokes used over and over and over again. I find myself every bit as likely to be telling the screen to shut up when I'm reading his columns as I am to be laughing.

His wife - the Sports Gal - on the other hand, has earned my eternal respect with this mini-column from Bill's recent post on this week's NFL games...

I would be the world's greatest mourner. I can cry at the drop of a hat. Bill still teases me because I once cried during a Nike commercial, the one in which they showed pictures of Michael Jordan's career, with "Bittersweet Symphony." You don't see it coming when I cry; it's like a drive-by shooting. I get warmed up pretty quickly. When I watched "The Bucket List" with Bill's parents recently, I started bawling at the end, then I started laughing because Bill always makes fun of me for crying, so I was crying and laughing at the same time. I'm pretty sure Bill's dad is going to file for legal custody of our kids after witnessing the display I put on.

My problem is I have too much compassion for every living thing. I won't even let Bill kill spiders in our house! So since we found out in February that the Dooze (our oldest dog) was dying of lymphoma and probably wouldn't make it to 2009, it has been waterworks central at Casa Simmons. I haven't handled it well. We have Kleenex in every room. Every time I throw tennis balls to her outside, I think, "This could be the 39th-to-last time that I'll ever throw tennis balls with the Dooze." But after watching the "Bucket List," I finally figured out how to send Dooze out with a bang. I created a "Bucket List" for her.

First, I'm taking her on a beach vacation for two days. Her two favorite things are swimming and chasing down tennis balls, so that's what we will do. Second, I'm buying a kiddie pool and filling it with 30 cans of tennis balls and letting her jump in. I just want to see the look on her face. Third, I'm making her favorite meal: filet mignon (bloody), an ear of corn and carrot cake. I don't care if she poops all over the house afterward. Fourth, I'm teaching her how to keep two tennis balls in her mouth at the same time. She has been trying to do this for years! I really want to see her do it once. Fifth, right near the end, I'm taking her to Hollywood Boulevard at 4 a.m. and throwing tennis balls to her. It will be our best ball-throw ever, even if I end up getting mugged or arrested. And sixth, after she passes on, we're throwing her ashes into the Pacific Ocean. That's what she would want.

You can count on one thing: I will definitely be crying.

She won't be alone, because I teared up just reading it.