I have a problem: once Sunday's events determine if West Ham are the final relegation victim in the EPL, the tension and intrigue of the sporting world I follow will become virtually non-existent until August (when the new EPL season will commence and ideally the Mariners will find themselves in a MLB pennant race).

Such is the severity of this sudden condition that I don't even have a good excuse for idiotic experiments wth facial hair. I suspect that this five-minute flirtation with a Hitler-stache may well be due to the Wild-inspired psychosis of shaving off my playoff beard. I mean just look at me: the more I looked at it in the mirror, the more I felt tempted by the absurdly fascist and yet vaguely frenchman-like suaveness hinted at by the dumb tuft of hair. My God: maybe this is akin to what Jeff Kent feels like?

Roma and Valencia are in anti-climactic races for European positions, I have a slight preference for AC Milan to take the Champions League (although Inter or Juventus will do, just so long as Real Madrid don't take yet another title), the Canucks are out, the NBA is boring (though Shaq and the Lakers crashing out would be enjoyable) and baseball is, well, baseball.

Atleast the BC Lions will kick off their CFL season by late June, however, the impending lull in meaningful competition will still be such an abrupt cutoff to my system that I'm likely to find myself rabidly coveting events such as the Confederations Cup and Women's World Cup in order to ease my withdrawel.

Such is the fate of a sports-geek-junkie