The walking, talking, two-headed disaster known as Dolan & Isiah which rules Madison Square Garden needs to face facts:
The only way to blow the roof off of a sold-out MSG is to pull the plug on the Knicks' season (immediately!) and preempt the remaining games with what we saw tonight -- Uno The Beagle struttin' his stuff and winning Best In Show.
Talk about the embodiment of "GOD" spelled backwards ...
It seems abundantly clear that the only way that the NBA team which occupies MSG could equal or surpass the buzz of tonight would be if someone somewhere passed a law whereupon the name "Knickerbockers" was changed to "Knickerbeagles."
Bottom line: The Big Apple hasn't been this overwhelmed by a four-legged creature since that time when the Cloverfield monster destroyed three-quarters of the city.
Still, the Westminster Kennel Club owes the Free World an explanation as to why it took 516 years for its judges to come to their senses and offer some long-overdue respect and admiration for the second-best breed in the universe (behind the Golden, of course).
Swear to god ("d-o-g" spelled backwards) ... it (apparently) was no misprint that "no beagle had won the Hound group since 1939."
What was the problem then?
There was no disputing Uno's unassailable status as the People's Puppy; the crowd went nuts every time that rascal was anywhere near the main action ... which was somewhat reminiscent of the early '70s when Hawthorne Wingo would wow the MSG crowd.
So many Americans sweated out that final 20 minutes of the Best In Show judging on the USA Network -- particularly since two of those seven finalists were a pair of iguanas-adorned-with-cotton-balls known as the standard poodle and the toy poodle.
Nobody has ever sufficiently explained why it is necessary to groom such a slightly-less-than-medicore breed of dog (the poodle) in such a manner so as to give the impression of what an iguana looks like when dressed in poofy cotton.
The beagle, meanwhile, is your typical, everyday cutey-pie who enjoys playing, socializing, receiving tummy-rubs and, if trained to do so, can sniff out drugs, snakes or explosives.
Fun ... and functional (depending how one feels about the beagle's bark -- or "bay" -- which can make ya mental). Folks who are pro-poodle usually try to argue the merits of their breed, but, c'mon ...
No, seriously ... the toy poodle's name was "Vikki."
"Vikki" is not (never has been, never will be) an acceptable doggie name.
"Vicki" was the name of the best-lookin' chick in our algebra class (however, "Vickie" was the hottie who sat in the back of 5th period Social Studies ... although nobody is naming little girls "Vicki" any more, opting instead for "Brittany" and "Cassidy" and "Britney" and "Chelsea" and "Brittinnee" -- not unlike the way that guys' names have shifted from "Gary" and "Scott" to "Chase" and "Tanner" and "Cassidy").
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, only a mere moments before the final decision was made, Vikki's coat (which spends more time in the salon than in the real world) was receiving a frenzied combing from her handler.
Which was for naught.
Because Uno is a champion's champion.
As for the standard poodle, Remy -- apparently, he was so named for the cognac, Remy Martin.
(Insert here your favorite line from any of the neurotics portrayed in the movie "Best In Show" ... )
America is well aware that cognac doesn't go well with a club sandwich and a side of steak-cut fries -- but, by the same token, America wouldn't mind seeing Uno, in his first act as King of the Canines, ordering Vikki and Remy to spend the night inside the boa constrictor exhibit at the reptile house at the nearby Bronx Zoo.
If it's true what David Duchovny's voice has told us about how "Dogs rule," then, what the heck ... let Uno make the rules.
Then again, it's humans who possess the cruelty to feed a poodle to a boa constrictor (which is why it seems ludicrous to have humans running the planet ... humans who affix 34 or 35 cotton balls to the feet, the hindquarters, the tail and the head of an iguana and call it "a poodle").
It's a form of mutilation which is in direct conflict with God's law and the Law of The Jungle ... which won't matter much in the Year 5528 when Earth is merely a burned-out lump of coal in the solar system and Jupiter's colonists chuckle while referring to this dead planet as "LoserTown" or "Idiotville."
Before 5528 rolls around, however, no one should be surprised if, in the near future, a baby goat wearing a burlap sack wins the "non-sporting" group in the WKC show in MSG in NYC.
Hopefully, it'll never come to that -- and maybe the best way to bridge the gap between this man-vs.-canine misunderstanding is to arrange for a meeting between the toy poodle and a certain currently-incarcerated NFL quarterback.
The tiny white dog and the talented black QB ... with the banner headline blaring: "VIKKI VISITS VICK!"
Strange as it may sound, the football metaphor definitely works. In fact, what transpired tonight paralleled Super Sunday on many levels.
The allegedly-"pretty" Vikki -- with her 108 best-in-show victories -- was akin to the New England Patriots and their pretty-boy QB, Tom Brady, putting their 18-0 record on the line against the regular-guy sensibilities of the New York Giants.
Again ... there's that New York angle.
Hey ... none of us has the inkling of going door to door and surveying Americans as to whether they are more anti-poodle/anti-Brady than they are pro-beagle/pro-Giants, yet, Uno's victory seems to signify that common sense CAN triumph.
The highly-beatable unbeatens CAN be defeated (which serves as some powerful vindication for Attucker, the energetic sweetheart of a beagle who, during Puppy Bowl IV on Super Sunday, CLEARLY outclassed Abigail, the Parson terrier, the so-called "Most Valuable Puppy").
And, maybe Uno's victory can open some doors for other breeds in a competition which, for much of its 100-some-odd years of existence, has favored the terriers.
Twelve times during the first 30 "Best in Show" competitions (1907-1937), fox terriers were the overall winners. Scottish terriers have won six Best in Shows ... Airedale terriers and Sealyham terriers have won four times each (one of Uno's fellow finalists was a Sealyham).
We've had West Highland terrier victories in 1942 and 1962 ... the Welsh terrier victory in 1944 ... the Bedlington terrier who won in 1948 (y'know ... the breed which looks like a little lamb) ... not to mention Best in Show wins for the Lakeland terrier (1968, 1976), the Skye terrier (1969), the Yorkshire terrier (1978), the Norwich terrier (1994, 1998), the Kerry Blue terrier (2003) and the Terrier Which Doesn't Look Like A Terrier, "Rufus" ... the rough-n'-tumble little Bull terrier with the football-shaped noggin who won our hearts two years ago.
Damn you, terriers (except for you, Rufus ... oh, and you, too, all you psycho Boston terriers who've never won and all you nut job Jack Russell terriers who've never won the grand prize).
Uno's victory has some of us dreaming of the day when a Golden Retriever will take top honors for the first time ever. That breed has its work cut out for it, considering that its three chief traits -- handsome, smart and sweet -- doesn't exactly fit the mold of the other so-called "champion" breeds (i.e. dogs which are not real-world compliant ... dogs which have an agenda ... ).
Hard to believe that a Golden has as many Best in Show ribbons as the Sloughi and the Azawakh combined.
For chrissakes, the Golden has as many First Prizes as the Billy, the breed of dog named after the Chateau de Billy in Poitou ... the breed which is actually a combination of three now-extinct breeds, the Ceris, the Larrye and the Mountaimboeuf.
Can we get a ruling? (That is, a ruling from somebody other than you, Mr. Know-It-All, Herb Kirkstreit).
The peanut-butter-coloured Golden which runs this outfit -- "The Colonel" -- is sick to death of Jerk Jerkstreit gettin on ESPN and askin' the tired, rhetorical question, "Is Uno the best champion of all-time?"
Not until he tosses out the ceremonial first pitch at either the Daytona 500 or the NBA All-Star Game this weekend, he ain't.
And, until Uno orders his handlers to convince those geniuses at Fathead that an UNO Fathead would have a positive impact on profit margins, we'll reserve judgment.
Besides, we're saving our best rush-to-judgment impulses for the next big event on our dance card:
Clemens vs. McNamee.
Clemens vs. McNamee, Clemens vs. McNamee, Clemens vs. McNamee, Clements vs. Macrame, Clements vs. Macrame, Clements likes to macrame, Clements likes to macrame, Clements likes to macrame ...