Mister Faded Glory | www.misterfadedglory.com

Well, this is clearly the most abysmal sports weekend ever. Don’t get me wrong, I do have other things in my life to take part in. I can amuse myself in other ways. However — on a lazy weekend, I enjoy turning on the tube to sports — and having those sports be interesting is a plus.

For instance, right now, Houston is playing Miami in a godawful NBA game (And ESPN/ABC’s NBA coverage is atrocious) and no college basketball is on — the Buick Open is on CBS. Ugh. I’m not ready to watch any golf (It’s nice enough that I could play today, but the courses are closed. Also, I have no friends.). ANYWAY, golf is on, and I abhor wall-to-wall golf coverage as though it’s a major sport. I would prefer it to come and go only around the major events.

Regardless, one contest of note occurred on Friday — as Ron Artest took the court in Boston, his debut as a member of the Sacto Kings. I’ll spare you any arguments on Artest (He’s insane), but his debut was interesting in part only because of his choice of new number.

For example, at St. John’s and with the Bulls, Ron wore 15. With the Pacers, Ron kept 15 for a year, but then switched to 23, Michael Jordan‘s number. In 2004, Ron announced he would wear 91 as a tribute to Dennis Rodman (Huh?), before he was suspended. Before Indiana deactivated him this season, he wore 15 again.

However, all convention and previous history was out the window Friday night, as Ron took the court in a brand-spanking-new No. 93 Kings jersey. 93? What gives? Why? Is it some combo of Jordan and Rodman? Is it some quasi-equivalent of 15 in the Ron universe? It can’t have been the only number the Kings were willing to assign Artest, can it?. What in the world?

Most athletes have “number boxes” — variations on their chosen numbers, called into service at various stops throughout their tenure. Just as some go to great pains to keep one number throughout a career (Think Nomar Garciaparra or Clinton Portis), others switch effortlessly to a few variations (Bonzi Wells, Baron Davis). We can live with those switches, because they make sense.

As an example, let’s run through my personal number box. Because, of course, I still have a chance at being a professional athlete. Seriously, though, even high-school athletes have number boxes. I could live with six different numbers as a basketball or baseball player — I’m removing football from consideration, because numbers are restricted by position. I wore 84 as a tight end, however, and it is consistent with my box, because of the 4 at the end and the sum of 12. You’ll see.

My favorite number, and choice if I had it as a high school or college athlete, would be 21. This is because of Lawrence Moten at Syracuse, who began his career when I was in junior high.

Aside from 21, however, I would also be happy with its reverse, 12, or its sum, 3.

My favorite small, standalone numbers in actuality are 4 and 5.

I like 4, of course, because my football number was 84, (see above) and my basketball number was 54. (Stupid high-school jerseys numbered according to size!) Summarily, I could wear 5, 4, 54, or 9. (Not 45 – it became off-limits when Jordan came back wearing it.)

So that’s my list. 21, 3, 4, 5, 9, 54. In a pinch, I could even handle 14 or 15, though neither are preferred.

It’s a self-proclaimed statement by Artest that he is, in fact, downright nutty. In the same game, Friday night Wally Szczerbiak, born again with the Boston Celtics, wore a new 55 instead of his former No. 10, which is a retired Celtics number. This is well within his number box, 5+ 5 = 10. But no such constraint existed with the Kings — 23 is taken by a no-name, and no one has 15, which is also still an active number. Of course, no one has 91, either. So Artest stepped outside of his number box and chose 93 — which is bold — but also maddening, infuriating, and contemptuous — sort of like him.