Speaking of Wright, I wrote a column here talking about the way Citi Field has slowly crept to the precipice of its patience with him and his slow start. I’ve already received plenty of pre-emptive e-mails suggesting Wright’s skin tone may have something to do with the fans’ willingness to treat him differently than any of the other targets of their scorn (although I sure seem to remember Aaron Heilman and Scott Schoeneweis being awfully Caucasian even as they were awfully awful). I tend to think Mets fans give the benefit of the doubt to home-grown players more than imports (even when Reyes was booed briefly at Shea, it quickly turned the other way, and he remains a crowd favorite for the most part) as opposd to giving white the benefit of the dark over black. That’s how I’m hoping it is, anyway.

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For those of us who spent some wonderful time chronicling the Nets championship-caliber teams of the early 2000s, it was a sad, sad day when the team decided to heed the mutinous calls of Jason Kidd and company and dumped Byron Scott in favor of Lawrence Frank (who, apparently, has more job security than Antonin Scalia). Although the Hornets’ god-awful performance in these playoffs sure does cast more than a little bit of a pall over the way Scott conducts his business.

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For the record, I’m with my pal Joel Sherman on this one, selecting Zack Greinke as baseball’s best pitcher over Johan Santana or Roy Halladay, as SI’s cover does this week, is absurd. But the story that goes along with it, written by another bud of mine, Joe Posnanski, never actually says those words (wisely so), and it is definitely worth the 10 minutes of your time to read, and enjoy.