Chance Mock didn't see the field against OU this year. Ronald Martinez/Getty Images

ESPN College Football GameDay's Mark May, whom I criticized last week in this space, was exactly the objective, professional and fearless studio analyst that we desire on Saturday. In the wake of Oklahoma's 12-0 shutout of Texas, May said, "Bob Stoops made the right decisions in this game. Mack Brown did not."

May alluded to Longhorn senior quarterback Chance Mock (how do you not play a dude with a name -- the Major Applewhite Postulate -- like this?) and wondered why he didn't play. Amen. I don't know if Mack Brown watched the Texas Tech-Texas game last season (though I imagine he did because he coached it), but when the Red Raiders went ahead in the final two minutes, Brown did something he and many of his brethren don't do enough: He listened to his gut.

Brown knew that while Vince Young is a specimen, Mock has, well, Mock-see. Against Texas Tech, Mock led the Longhorns on a last-minute, vintage Joe Montana TD drive, and Texas won a game that I doubt they would have had Young operated that final drive.

Call it the Flutie Factor. Some quarterbacks are blue-chip seductresses (Young, Chris Rix, Brock Berlin, and historically, Peyton Manning and Ron Powlus) while others (Mock, David Greene, Boston College's Paul Peterson, and, historically, Montana, Flutie and Eric Crouch) simply have a knack for winning. Greene, by the way, lost yesterday, but he has pulled out so many games in the past -- and almost did so against Tennessee yesterday -- that he gets a sponsor's exemption. Likewise, Rix seemed to have crossed over last season with that stirring comeback at Florida, but has returned to his previous "looks-good-on-paper" form.

By the way, I doubt Mock's entry into the game would have changed the outcome at the Cotton Bowl on Saturday. Oklahoma is awesome. But Brown owed it to his players to at least take a chance on Chance.

Heisman complaints

So, it's late in Saturday's Purdue-Penn State game and ESPN flashes a Heisman watch list with updates on how the four players did today. On that list are the names Matt Leinart, Reggie Bush, Cedric Benson and Jason White.

And here was my reaction: ?

Let's run this through from the top, again (I'm so patient with these people). The Heisman is not the U.S. presidency. There were no primaries last winter, no Super Tuesday, no fait accompli conventions held at soulless basketball arenas. No, the race is, and should be, wide open when the season begins. The award should go simply to the nation's "most outstanding college football player."

Dig it: Adrian Peterson proved Saturday that he is more deserving of the Heisman than either Benson or White. If Peterson were a junior, we wouldn't even be having this discussion. So what if he isn't? Why should that matter? It doesn't.

Did the folks at ESPN not watch as Aaron Rodgers completed his first 23 passes, not against just anybody, but against the No. 1 team in the nation at their hizzouse? He has been outplaying Leinart all year and yesterday he did so head-to-head. Leinart being listed above Rogers on any serious Heisman list makes as much sense as Georgia still being rated six spots ahead of Tennessee in this week's Coaches' poll, even after the Vols spanked the Dawgs in Athens.

You sit there, too, don't you, and wonder, don't these people care about our game as much as we do? If you lose to a team and you both have the same amount of losses (and, by the way, each loss is quality), then you should be ranked below them. End of-zip it. I'm serious. Don't wanna hear it.

Anyway, back to the Heisman. Here's my Mitch Albom-inspired "Five People You Meet in Downtown Athletic Club" list, as of this week:

Kyle Orton, QB, Purdue
Peterson, RB, Oklahoma
Rodgers, QB, California
Bush, RB, Southern Cal
Derrick Johnson, LB, Texas

By the way, isn't it about time we had two awards of equal value, one for the outstanding offensive player in college football and one for the outstanding defensive player? When the Heisman was created in 1935, players went both ways. That no longer is the case. I'm just thinking out loud here, but I'd have an offensive award (The Grange, after Red Grange) and a defensive award, which we could name after one of the all-time greats on defense (I'll accept Hugh Green, Bubba Smith, Bronko Nagurski or Dick Butkus). Because a stud such as Johnson was possibly the best player on the field in Dallas yesterday, and chances are he won't even be invited to the Heisman dinner this December. Which is a shame.

From the gridiron, to the diamond

I'd like to congratulate the Boston Red Sox for winning their ALDS. More to the point, I'd like to thank them for sweeping the Angels in three games. Because, without mentioning any names, the TV play-by-play guy for that series, well, it was like listening to ... I mean ... sheesh.

Now, I do not mean to be, as one Baseball Tonight studio commentator said on Saturday, an "antagonator," but here's why I muted much of that series:

1. If you discuss every single player, coach, manager and Aerosmith lead singer as if you know you are going to run into them at the next Espys or ESPN's 26th anniversary gala, you rob us regular folk of an objective view. And you owe us that. Kudos on calling out Major League Baseball for their betrayal of Montreal (although, honestly, Montreal was never ever going to anything more than a baseball backwater), but MLB is an easy target. You never mentioned anyone by name.

2. Fractured syntax is kinda ... well ... it's just that ... and I'm only saying ... not so easy to ... and let's not forget that Pedro is pitching great, too.

3. Humor is like baserunning ... you don't try to stretch every single into a double. For example, there's Aerosmith front man Steven Tyler and the Sawx are up by five runs and so you have to mention that they're having their way with the Halos like "toys in the attic," which is courtesy-laugh-funny at best, but "toys in the attic" means cuckoo, nutso, crazy, so the joke is not even accurate.

Let's go, Yankees!

I love the New York Yankees. And I don't care if you're Bill Simmons or just about every single blogger on SI.com, I'm Tom Petty on this issue: I won't back down. Simmons, a.k.a. ESPN.com's "The Sports Guy," is the funniest read on the Web (with the possible exception of the chick who writes the Gilmore Girls recaplets on televisionwithoutpity.com), and also a die-hard Sawx fan. And I admire that. So why can't I love the Yankees?

Last month Simmons wrote that Yankees fans act "as if they're better people because they root for a baseball team only because A) they grew up within two hours of Yankee Stadium, B) they jumped on the bandwagon as a kid because they wanted to be associated with a winner or C) they have no soul."

When, in truth, like most kids, I just fell in love with the uniform.

Actually, to respond to The Sports Guy's points: A) I did grow up within two hours of Yankee Stadium, just as he grew up within two hours of Fenway Park. B) "jumping on the bandwagon." I've got 18 words for Simmons regarding the first Yankee team to steal my heart: Thurman Munson, Ron Blomberg, Horace Clark, Gene Michael, Graig Nettles, Roy White, Bobby Murcer and Matty Alou. Not exactly an Evil Empire. Oh, I've got two more: Celerino Sanchez. So I don't wanna hear it, especially from someone who grew up watching the '75 and '78 Red Sox, and about C) having no soul. Well, OK, that may be true.

And while it may be fashionable to portray Yankees fans as the types who would not bet on anything more risky than a sunrise, that's just wrong. My favorite Yankee postseason was 2001, when the Bombers failed to win the World Series. But, they did rebound from an 0-2 hole against Oakland, and there was Jeter's play, and then the wipe-out of the 116-win Seattle Mariners in five, and then Games 4 and 5 at the Stadium and yes, even Game 7. And, yes, that was me at Alice Cooperstown in Phoenix, screaming, fist-raised a la Judd Nelson in the final scene of The Breakfast Club after Alfonso Soriano's go-ahead home run in the eighth. And, sure, the Yanks lost. But they didn't choke. And our manager made all the right moves. And our shortstop never quits on his teammates.

And while I do experience a bizarre and uncharacteristic joy at the misfortune of the BoSox (a condition I call "Sawxenfreude"), I don't feel that way this year. I just cannot hate the Sox. Mainly because of Manny Ramirez. RainManny. Were you watching Game 1 of the ALDS when Mark Bellhorn blooped a foul near the Boston dugout? Angel first baseman Darin Erstad gave chase, and was heading straight toward Manny, who was standing in the on-deck circle. Being Manny, though, he was completely oblivious to his surroundings and still taking his practice cuts. Erstad nearly got wood-chipped by Manny's bat. Only at the last second did Manny realize the situation. My favorite moment of the baseball postseason thus far.

Random

Attended the Brophy Prep (all boys)-Xavier High (all girls) 20th reunion in Paradise Valley, Ariz., this weekend (cue We Are The Champions) and took home "Most Eligible Bachelor" (the award, that is; not a guy). Which, let's face it, at 28 might have been cool, but at 38 is just sad. As Regan Stuart, M.D., the Most Eligible Bachelorette, remarked, "I'd be more excited, but I also got this award at the 10-year."

Besides, if it weren't for so many of my classmates being better-looking and more successful than I am, I never would have won.

By the way, if the producers of Desperate Housewives are ever looking for a better-looking cast (or a reality-show version), call me. Xavier's Class of '84 stacks up quite nicely.

A few weeks ago I cited the strange coincidence of Tom Hanks taking a whiz in four of his films. Here's another one: John Cusack, in both The Sure Thing (a classic) and Serendipity (not), there is a scene in which Cusack woos a beautiful brunette by pointing out the constellation Cassiopeia. For what it's worth. Which, yes, is not much.