Rex Ryan has us all fooled ... right?

Rex Ryan is either the smartest, most cunning, most innovative coach in the history of the NFL, or ... he's not.

What to think? Which way to go? There's no middle ground here. It's sort of like cats -- you either love 'em (which I do) or you don't. You're either in or your out, to paraphrase Pat Riley, who actually was pretty smart, cunning and innovative. You either have confidence the plan will work when it counts, or you don't.

The Jets have been pretty terrible throughout the first three games of the preseason: This is not news. The defense doesn't look bad, but the offense is a mess. The line has holes, especially at tackle (Winston Hill is not walking through that door), their receivers are banged-up and old, their top running back is pretty pedestrian and though they profess confidence and trust in their starting quarterback, Mark Sanchez, he's going to have to play with whiplash every week, what with that Tim Tebow guy breathing down his neck.

And through it all, Ryan has remained the steady, stoic captain of this ship that everyone else can see is taking on a lot of water. And instead of grabbing the buckets and bailing, he's calmly forging ahead, telling us not to worry. Trust me, he assures us. I got this.

"I see some encouraging signs that we're headed in the right direction," Ryan told my New York Post colleague, Brian Costello. "It might not be obvious to everybody in the public. Again, I'm confident in our offense. I'm confident in our coaching staff. I'm confident in our players. I believe that we're going to have a very productive offense when it's all said and done."

Uh, OK. Maybe we're wrong. Maybe in all of their shrouded-in-secrecy practices Ryan and new offensive coordinator Tony Sparano have cooked up the most amazing, intricate mind-blowing offensive attack, the likes of which we've never seen before. Maybe Tebow will line up as quarterback, running back, H-back and wideout ... on the same play (Hey, Bugs Bunny did it on the baseball field, so there is precedent). Maybe Antonio Cromartie will catch passes ... from Nick Mangold.

Or maybe not. Maybe behind closed doors and security-encased fields far away from the prying eyes of the media and Bill Belichick's camcorder, they're as frustrated and frantic as their fan base is. Maybe they're just trying to buy as much time as possible to figure something -- anything -- out before the regular season starts, when all the world will finally see whether the Jets are fantastic ... or frauds.

Ryan and the Jets either have all of this under control ... or they don't.

Which is it? We'll soon find out.

Who can rescue the Red Sox? Terry Francona ... Yes, Terry Francona

By now, I think we all can agree the Bobby Valentine experiment in Boston has pretty much reached the end of its shelf life. Even from the very start, the fact he wasn't the unanimous choice of the Red Sox braintrust should have been a major red flag, but once the Sox went all in on Valentine, there was no turning back.

Much of what has gone down has been pretty predictable. Bobby V comes in, says what he wants, does what he wants, tweaks veterans, forces trade of popular veteran (Kevin Youkilis), makes spectacle of himself in background of video shoot, rinse, repeat.

All of that probably would have been acceptable if the results were good. One of my favorite lines in these types of situations was once uttered by one of my favorite people in professional sports, Celtics coach Doc Rivers, who liked to say, "When you win, you're a genius. When you lose, you're a moron."

It's that simple, really. The won-loss record is the difference between Bobby Valentine being goofy and eccentric, and just being a train wreck. So here we are.

It would be in the best interest of all involved for Valentine and the Sox to go their separate ways after the season. He already received the kiss of death -- I mean, the vote of confidence -- from management, so he's got that going for him. He's a proud man, firmly entrenched in his methods, who would probably find it very easy to go back and sit in his old chair at ESPN.

Which brings us to who I believe would be the perfect replacement for Valentine ... the guy he replaced, Terry Francona. Yeah, that Terry Francona, who's now sitting in that seat at ESPN, at this moment gushing over the Little League World Series.

I came up with that idea (I'll take credit for it since I haven't heard anyone else say it) this past Friday, in my recurring guest spot on All Around Sports, hosted by John Ingoldsby on voiceamerica.com. Shameless plug alert: Listen to the show on this link, at about the 44-minute mark:

http://www.voiceamerica.com/show/1909/all-around-sports

We were talking about the Red Sox and how the Valentine tenure would likely end, and I blurted out, "Don't be surprised if Terry Francona comes back to manage the Red Sox again."

Now, I'm not even sure I totally believed that when I said it, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Sure, last season ended badly. But if there's anyone who has gravitas in the Red Sox clubhouse, it's Francona. It was just a couple of weeks ago when he, as a member of the ESPN crew covering the Sox-Yankees Sunday night game in New York, walked into the visiting clubhouse and held court with a group of his former players -- which shows he still has plenty of allies on that team, and he enjoys their company and didn't feel awkward about letting that be known.

Let's face it, the guy did win two World Series with that team. It's not as if he became an idiot overnight. I don't think Red Sox Nation would have any problem reembracing the man who helped orchestrate the end of The Curse. As long as it means the end of this new one -- with fried chicken and beer off limits, naturally.

And it's not as if there isn't precedent for a move like this. During the Bronx Zoo years in the 1970s and '80s, George Steinbrenner fired and re-hired Billy Martin as manager of the Yankees five times officially (and about 100 times unofficially). That club was probably the most dysfunctional team in the history of pro sports, but it won, and in the end, as we've duly noted, that's all that matters.

Now I have no idea if Francona would be interested in coming back, or if Red Sox management would entertain the idea of him coming back. But he did have a reaction to the mess that has engulfed his old team, and he began by telling USA Today he tries "to be a little careful."

Said Francona: "During my eight years there, we never really had a whole lot of drama outside the clubhouse. That's their business, not my business ... the idea is to keep it in-house. You can deal with it and it goes away. When it goes public, everybody puts their spin on it even when they don't know what they're talking about and it becomes a national story ... The better teams handle it and move on."

The Red Sox clearly need to move on. So make the trade -- Valentine back to ESPN and Francona back to Boston.

Weirder things have happened.

Tyrann "Honey Badger" Mathieu will get another chance

Being cynical and being a journalist goes hand in hand. You can throw being jaded in there, too, while we're at it. The point is, after a while, there's very little that's shocking or surprising to the trained ear or eye. 

And then there's what happened early Friday afternoon. 

It was already going to be a busy sports weekend; the climax of the Olympics, pennant races heating up, NFL preseason openers and the PGA Championship were all vying for out attention, so the thunderbolt out of Baton Rouge, La., on Friday, when LSU announced Heisman Trophy candidate and star defensive back Tyrann Mathieu -- who you probably know as "Honey Badger" -- had been dismissed from the football team for what the school called "a violation of team and university rules."

It has been widely reported Mathieu's dismissal was due to his failing a drug test for the second time -- he was suspended one game last season, reportedly testing positive for synthetic marijuana.

In New York, college football is a tough sell; we're way too enmeshed with our nine professional sports teams to have much time or engagement left for what in other parts of the nation -- particularly the South -- is akin to religion. The Mathieu story was underplayed in the Metropolitan area as a result.

But this is a huge story, and not just because one of the best players in the country will no longer be playing for one of the best teams in the country. It's also about the marketing and future of a player perhaps recognized more for his persona than his abilities on the field.

If you want a catchy nickname, it helps to have one associated with what can be best described as an offbeat, unorthodox nature video spoof that went viral (google "youtube honey badger" if you somehow have yet to be exposed to it). One line from the video, "Honey badger don't care," then spun off on its own trajectory, and is now splashed on T-shirts, hats and other apparel.

It seemed a given that one day Mathieu would reap the benefits of such exposure -- but  there's nothing to say that still can't happen; critics point to his small stature (5-foot-9, 175 pounds) being a barrier to a future in the NFL, but he was an explosive performer on special teams, and his ability to run back punts could make him, say, the next Devin Hester.

All of that is on hold now. NCAA rules state a player dismissed from an FBS program must sit out a year before transferring and playing for another FBS team. But Mathieu could transfer to an FBC (Division I-AA) school and play immediately, which is why Mathieu has already visited McNeese State, located in Lake Charles, La., about 200 miles from New Orleans.

Such a move would remove Mathieu from the national consciousness and big-program media coverage for the moment, but many all-time NFL greats have come from small schools, including Walter Payton (Jackson State), Jerry Rice (Mississippi Valley State) Steve McNair (Alcorn State) and Phil Simms (Morehead State). And there are a host of current NFL players that have made the jump from unheralded programs, including Tony Romo (Eastern Illinois), Miles Austin (Monmouth), Jared Allen (Idaho State) and Pierre Garcon (Division III Mount Union).

At least one person thinks Mathieu's odds are still pretty good -- his now former coach at LSU, Les Miles.

"I think Tyrann has a unique strength," Miles told the New Orleans Times-Picayune. "I really think this could be a redirect that will benefit him greatly. I think he can accomplish  all the goals he set for himself. It's not going to be easy, but it's going to be doable."

And perhaps playing in a more understated and low-pressure environment would make Mathieu realize he has a second chance, a gift to make this right in the end. And there's nothing cynical or jaded about that.

Is Bobby Valentine out of lifelines in Boston?

Bobby Valentine has many claims to fame. He loves wrap sandwiches -- so much so, he says he's the one who invented them. He loves to dress up in disguise, as he once did as manager of the Mets, when he donned a fake mustache and glasses and sat in the dugout after being ejected from a game. And he apparently loves to make cameo appearances in video reports, as he did this week at Fenway Park (above), when the Red Sox manager appeared behind the shoulder of The Boston Globe's Dan Shaughnessy and shouted, "It's not true, I'm not trying to get fired, folks! It's not true! It's not true!"

Whether he is or he isn't, conventional wisdom seems to be indicating Valentine's tenure in Boston may not last much longer. And if that's the case, it would mark another claim to fame for one of sports' most polarizing figures -- for the first time in his managerial career, he would not last even one season; having managed the Texas Rangers for eight years and the Mets for seven.

This week's video rant has been the latest Valentine incident in a season full of them.

* In April, he got into a public feud with Kevin Youkilis, saying the popular third baseman wasn't "as physically or emotionally into the game as he has been in the past for some reason." Youkilis, who said he was "surprised" and "confused" by Valentine's attack, was soon dealt to the White Sox. Valentine refused to let it go; in July, he told NESN, "The comment I made early, he made a big deal out of, and I don't think he ever wanted to get over it."

* Not long after that, Will Middlebrooks, Youkilis' replacement, had a rough inning in the field and made a couple of errors. Valentine greeted him to the dugout with, "Nice inning, kid." An unnamed person went to management to complain, and the incident probably would not even have been reported if Valentine did not mention it himself during a WEEI radio interview. Valentine went on to say he took Middlebrooks aside afterward and gave him a pep talk, and in a sarcastic tone, used words like "dreadful" and "mortally wounded" to describe the tone of the "unnamed person" who blew the whistle.

* In the wake of that incident, Valentine was taken to task by former Red Sox pitcher Curt Schilling, who said on WEEI he would have "taken a swing" had Valentine made a similar remark to him, and added he thinks the Valentine era in Boston will end "like Mount Vesuvius." When introduced at Fenway Park upon being inducted into the Red Sox Hall of Fame Saturday night, Schilling got a standing ovation.

* Last week, former Red Sox manager Terry Francona showed up in the visitors' clubhouse at Yankee Stadium and held court with at least a half-dozen players. Valentine had no problem with that, but it underscores how Francona is still revered by the Red Sox -- and you can bet their relationship with Valentine came up in that conversation. For his part, Francona apologized to Valentine, who said it was "no big deal."

Schilling says none of this will end well, and actually spoke of Valentine's job in the past tense.

"Bobby is just unique -- he's different," Schilling told WEEI. "And he runs and beats to a different drummer. I just didn't think the matchup of players and this club and him was going to fit, it was going to work, and I don't think he ever got a chance from a lot of the guys ... I can't imagine given the personalities involved on all sides that this thing just kind of wanders away in the evening, especially with the fans here."

And if that's the way it goes down, Valentine will have another claim to fame, and plenty of time to conjure up new sandwiches.

Call them the Maryland Terribles

As the college football season unfolded this weekend, there was plenty to look forward to. The iconic Maize and Blue at Michigan, and those classic "wing" helmets. The gold Trojan emblazoned on the red helmets at USC. Texas' simple yet storied orange Longhorn. And the plain white numbers that identify every Crimson Tide helmet at Alabama. Rites of autumn, one and all.

And then there's what we were forced to look at Monday night, when Maryland took the field for its season-opener against Miami. The picture above gives you a pretty good idea of what they looked like if you were lucky enough not to see them live. Someone in my office at the New York Post came up with an apt description: "Flag vomit." And there was lots more consternation in cyberspace, with Maryland alumni and fans all over Facebook and Twitter screaming their disapproval.

Perhaps the best comment I saw was from someone on Twitter, who said, "Maryland's uniforms are so bad that a Miami player just said, "You couldn't pay me to wear those things ... well actually you could."

We already have been exposed to several degrees of ghastliness on the college football uniform front already with this season still in the infancy stage. On Saturday night, Boise State wore uniforms that could have been developed by the same folks who came up with MLB's ill-fated turn-ahead-the-clock unis from a few seasons back (Google "Mercury Mets" for a refresher). Georgia's silver-and-red ensemble in the same game looked like something Jonathan E. could have worn in "Rollerball." And the less said about the million and four horrid combinations worn by the Oregon Yucks, I mean, Ducks, the better.

All that said, we may have hit a new low last night. A split-down-the middle, Sybil-like concoction, with one side a takeoff on the red-and-white portion of the Maryland state flag, and the other mimicking the black-and-gold part. You may recall when the Baltimore Ravens debuted, they featured the Maryland state flag as part of their crest. At least they had the sense to draw the boundary there.

A few weeks back, the school held a press conference to show off their array of new uniform combinations for this season, developed by Under Armour, displaying 32 different looks. Some were better than others, but all were better than what they unveiled last night. And in case the horrid jersey and helmet designs weren't enough for you, the Terrapins' gloves and shoes featured the same sense-assaulting color palette.

Listen, as an artistic person, I'm all for creativity, trying something different and thinking outside the box. And the one cool aspect about all this was that the Terps actually wore different uniforms -- one of the aforementioned 32 -- during warmups Monday night, then did a complete wardrobe change right before gametime.

"I was proud that we kept this under the lid," Maryland coach Randy Edsall said during the ESPN telecast. "This is our 'Pride' uniform -- Maryland pride. This is part of the new branding we're doing here. We want to incorporate the state colors and let everyone know we are playing for everyone in the state."

It is, of course, all about branding, money and image. I get all that too. Someone once said there's no such thing as bad PR. You could then make the case Maryland stumbled into a gold mine.

Still, its hard to imagine anyone at the school giving the go-ahead to send the Terrapins on the field wearing these monstrosities thinking, "Boy, these look great. Our kids will be so proud to wear them."

Unless the powers that be in College Park, Md., are color-blind. That must be it.

What, another NBA conspiracy theory?

Take your pick -- warm, fuzzy feel-good story, or the latest fodder for conspiracy theorists?

Last week's NBA draft lottery, the event where a bad bounce of a ping-pong ball can teeter the balance of an entire sport, was notable for a couple of reasons:

On the surface, it was redemption for the once powerful, then woebegone, now strutting-again Cleveland Cavaliers, who went from the NBA Finals into the garbage pile once a certain someone decided to take his talents to South Beach. And now, after winning the lottery, the Cavs are suddenly in position to become relevant again, given they have the first and fourth overall selections in next month's draft.

It was also a compelling human interest story. The Cavs were represented at the lottery by Nick Gilbert (above, center), the 14-year-old son of team owner Dan Gilbert (above, right). Nick is afflicted by neurofibromatosis, a rare nerve disorder that causes tumors to grow in the body at any time. The scene of Nick doing a victory dance at the lottery's conclusion, while Timberwolves GM David Kahn and Jazz GM Kevin O'Connor (Minnesota and Utah were the other two teams with a shot at the No. 1 slot) could only stand by scowling, was priceless.

But as soon as the event ended, the tin hats came out. First to pull one on was Kahn, whose Timberwolves have never been awarded the No. 1 pick in 14 trips to the Lottery.

"This league has a habit, and I'm just going to say habit, of producing some pretty incredible storylines," Kahn said. "Last year is was Abe Pollin's widow (referring to the longtime owner of the Washington Wizards) and this year it was a 14-year-old boy and the only thing we have in common is we have both been bar mitzvahed. We were done. I told Kevin (O'Connor), 'We're toast.' This is not happening for us and I was right."

Kahn is far from the first person to raise his eyebrows at unusual events where the NBA is concerned. Officials Hue Hollins and Nick Bavetta (who was dubbed "Knick" Bavetta) have been called out in the past for their perceived propensity for making calls in favor of a certain New York team. And what about Tim Donaghy, the disgraced official who really DID fix games, and spent time in prison for it?

And then there's the main event when it comes to the NBA's image of supposed impropriety: the 1985 Draft Lottery, and the right to select Patrick Ewing No. 1 overall, famously won by the Knicks. At that time, the lottery was determined by team logos on huge envelopes pulled out of a bin by NBA commissioner David Stern. The story, which some people I know and trust swear to be true, is that the envelope with the Knicks logo was kept in a freezer before the lottery -- so when Stern was fishing through the envelopes, he knew which one to avoid, until it was the only one left.

Kahn wasn't the only one drawing conclusions last week, either. The New York Times reported that seconds before the lottery winner was announced, John Wall -- last year's No. 1 pick -- was standing next to Duke guard Kyrie Irving -- who could be this year's No. 1 pick -- and "whispered 'Cleveland' in Irving's ear before the cameras turned on."

In the days since, Kahn has backtracked -- OK, turned and fled -- from his initial view, claiming he was "joking" when spoken to moments after his team lost out yet again.

"I don't believe in jinxes, curses or hocus pocus, and I certainly don't think we were wronged," Kahn told the Associated Press. "But I do believe in the power of story, and I joked that it's a heck of a better story for a 14-year-old kid to beat out a couple of middle-aged executives standing together on a stage on national TV, and that our league seems to always have its own share of luck in being a part of these stories.

"That was the entire meaning of what I said in a joking fashion, and what I believe was received in such fashion."

The reality is he and the Timberwolves are just on a run of really, really bad luck. The perception? Another story entirely.

***

UPDATE: Back on May 12, I wrote about the backlash that slashed, crosschecked and boarded the Rangers' Sean Avery after he taped a PSA in support of gay marriage for New Yorkers for Marriage Equality.

With every day that goes by, the movement is getting more support from the sports world. Longtime Suns CEO and president Rick Welts recently came out, announcing he is gay. TNT analyst Charles Barkley, a former Sun, spoke out in support, saying he had no problems playing with gay teammates. "I'd rather have a gay guy who can play," Barkley said, "than a straight guy who can't play.

Now, a prominent NBA star, the Suns' Steve Nash, has joined Avery in taping a PSA for the organization.

"Hi, I'm Steve Nash," he says in the PSA. "I spend my summers in New York and I love playing at the Garden. A growing number of professional athletes are speaking out in support of gay and lesbian couples getting marries, and I'm proud to be one of them. Join me and the supermajority of New Yorkers who support marriage equality."

On Friday, ESPN.com reported the results of a Gallup poll, which said 53 percent of respondents said same-sex marriage should be recognized as lawful and valid, while 45 percent said no.

Scott Raab, Holocaust comedian

Up until now, Scott Raab was mostly known as a journalist who writes in-depth celebrity profiles for Esquire Magazine. On his Wikipedia page, Raab calls himself "a fat Jew from Cleveland" who has a tattoo of Chief Wahoo on his forearm -- done during an interview with Dennis Rodman.

Raab was in the center of a mini-controversy last fall, when the Miami Heat refused to give him press credentials, a by-product of Raab's negative approach while writing about LeBron James' exit from Cleveland.

But this week, Raab became known for something much worse. He placed himself into a pot of boiling water that, outside of Deadspin.com and a few sports blogs, has largely gone unreported.

In a tweet -- presumably in response to a contest being run by the Dallas Mavericks, asking fans to choose an "official" nickname for Dirk Nowitzki (above), who had just dropped 48 points on the Oklahoma City Thunder -- Raab wrote the following:

"All the fuss about a Nowitzki nickname is absurd. Gotta be "Zyklon D," nein?"

Zyklon was a pellet-based pesticide that became lethal when exposed to oxygen, and was what the Nazis used in the gas chambers at Auschwitz, Treblinka and Dachau. The full name of the poison was Zyklon B, which Raab twisted to Zyklon D, as in, D for Dirk Nowitzki.

Let all of that sink in for a moment.

I can immediately think of 6 million reasons to be upset about this, and I'm sure you can too. The fact that Raab is Jewish doesn't matter. I'm Jewish, and when I saw it, I was offended and sickened by the reference. And imagine how would you feel if you were Nowitzki, who, of course, is German and was born in 1978, 33 years after World War II ended?

I haven't found or heard any reactions from Nowitzki on the matter, probably because it has not hit the mainstream. Perhaps the main reason for that is Raab is now a "regular contributor" to Esquire as opposed to a member of the magazine's staff, which he was until 1997, according to his Wikipedia page. The point is that because Raab does not have to answer to anyone for his tweets, he can pretty much say whatever he wants, unfiltered and without anyone questioning, in this case, his judgment and taste -- which is why self-editing is a necessary skill in today's tweet-happy world.

Let's put it this way: If Raab worked for, say, ESPN or were a full-time columnist for a newspaper or website, he probably would have been fired. Rogers SportsNet in Toronto fired a TV host last week because he supported the anti-gay sentiments of a hockey agent who criticized the Rangers' Sean Avery for supporting gay marriage.

What I am sure of is this: Nowitzki would be as horrified as anyone. In Germany, it's illegal to display the swastika or other Nazi symbols, and the Holocaust is a legacy of shame and disgust for nearly every decent person in today's Germany.

For his part, Raab did apologize on Twitter 13 hours after his initial tweet, linking to an article he penned for Esquire on a convicted Nazi death camp guard who relocated to the United States. But it's important for us to object to and call out anyone who slurs or makes light of any form of intolerance, or in this case, genocide.

There are at least 6 million reasons why.