Skip Bayless

I closely follow football (and basketball and baseball) for the right reasons, not the alarmingly irrelevant ones.

No player in NBA history has driven me crazier, night after night after NIGHT, than the Thunder storm that can be Russell Westbrook, No. 0.

Chris Paul, president of the NBA Players Association, can lead an entire league but can't lead his team when it really counts.

When you watch Chris Paul on the playoff stage, you often sense he is fighting two battles, one against his nature and one against his opponent.

I boil down people to 'good heart' or 'bad heart' - meaning they're basically good or basically not.

Ochocinco had a rare instinct for making himself an almost daily story.

Ever the coach's dream, Tebow embraced the role of punt protector.

Mayweather has boxing genius. But it takes one to know one, and he knew right away Pacquiao also has rare boxing IQ - an equalizing gift for setting up and taking down an opponent.

No doubt Mayweather is the greatest defensive fighter ever.

I consider myself a reasonably intelligent guy. Made straight A's in high school (except for driver's ed and typing).

I admit I get psycho-competitive.

For years I wrote newspaper columns mostly about the teams in my city. There was no cheering in the press box, and I fought to remain objective.

Tear away fantasy football's fraternal facade and you discover it's built on megalomaniacal anarchy. Its subliminal message: Forget the team you've always rooted for. You be the owner and the GM. You pick and control the players. You be the star, Joe (and Jill) Nobody.

Inch for inch, the 6-foot-3 Westbrook is the NBA's most sensationally talented player, a relentlessly explosive basket-attacker with a deadly pull-up jumper - a top-10 NBA player by any big-picture statistical measure from Player Efficiency Rating to Win Shares.

Give me great players making great plays under the world's greatest pressure. Give me red white and blue real football.

I remain unashamed to publicly declare my lifelong love of watching football. I have watched thousands upon thousands of games simply because I cared solely about which team won.

I can speak only as a white guy.

Sometimes I feel like the easiest target in sports.

I'm LeBron's 'No. 1 Critic' and his 'Biggest Hater.' I feel a little like Shailene Woodley's character in 'Divergent.' The government is going to eliminate me because I don't fit in.

I obviously can't read, watch and listen to everything. But of the media members I follow, all are pro-LeBron - most of them passionately so - and most are extremely slow to criticize him and quick to give him a pass.

At the risk of damaging the 'First Take' ratings, the God's truth is I do not hate LeBron James. I actually like the man, who seems as close to being a role model as any superstar can be. He seems to be a good father and husband with a sharing, caring heart.

Ice, to me, is a magical healer. At night, watching 'Ray Donovan,' I'll put bags of ice on my shoulders, knees, and back. It's a miracle cure.

In the '80s, I did two hours of cardio every day, split between running and the stationary bike. It was a trap - afterward I'd feel starving but also bulletproof, so I'd pig out. I slid into what I call exercise bulimia, when you're running more and more miles so you can eat worse and worse food.

I wouldn't want to debate me every day.

Obviously, I'm not not black. But this is one thing I do know after years and years of working with a lot of black players and black commentators on many networks: That if you go to the place of you're telling a black man, or a black woman, that 'You should know your place and stay in it,' when you get to there, them's fighting words.

If the NFL can keep getting away with forcing players to wait three years out of high school before they're drafted - three! - the NCAA should be made to do away with its rules against paying players beyond room, board and tuition. I'm not talking about some token, $2,000-a-year 'spending money' stipend for every player.

Great is great no matter the age.

You will find no bigger media fan of Manziel's than I am.

I do not hate Andrew Luck.

Trust me, you cannot love football any more than I do.

For me, watching football played in the snow is abominable, as in snowman.

I've long been offended by not-so-godly pro football players I've known who showed up for pregame chapel - Sunday-only Christians rubbing the proverbial rabbit's foot - then after victories declared it was 'God's will' that their team won.

I certainly could be wrong, but I don't believe God decides athletic competitions.

I'm perfectly fine with Pacquiao the Christian wanting to separate Mayweather from his senses.

Just my two cents: Even as a Christian, I love boxing because it's the ultimate stand-alone test of a competitor's skill and will. Just two opponents, lightly gloved, and a referee ready to jump in and stop it the moment he believes one opponent can no longer defend himself.

You see far more swings and misses on can't-miss football recruits than basketball blue chips.

Though I graduated from Vanderbilt, I was born into a family of crazed University of Oklahoma football fans and became one.

Obviously, college stars deserve substantial compensation, right?

Why did John Elway not come back for a shot at a third Super Bowl? He just had had enough.

No doubt boxing's brutal beauty lies in the eye of the rooting beholder.

Once upon a time, kickers actually were players. Lou 'The Toe' Groza started at left tackle and played some defensive line while turning into the first straight-on place-kicking star, for the Cleveland Browns. Quarterback George Blanda led the NFL in completions once and the AFL three times while kicking field goals and extra points.

Punters must catch bullet snaps that sometimes bounce or test their verticals. Then they must aim away from dangerous returners or pierce the wind with low spirals or drop punts into 'coffin corners' or stick them nose-first like majestic 2-irons near the goal line.

Punting is an underrated art because of the strategy, skill and athleticism involved.

Field goal kicking is wildly exciting for all the wrong reasons. We regularly interrupt games to go for a ride on the equivalent of Disney's stomach-in-throat Tower of Terror.

The 3 brought some art back into the science of winning NBA titles.

During games, I love a Twitter-rocking dunk as much as the next NBA nut. But now, I'd slightly rather see a crowd-detonating (or crowd-silencing) 3-pointer, either off four or five whip-whip passes or (even better) off a steal and a one-on-two pull-up on a solo fast break. No shot in basketball can be more psychologically devastating.

Politics can cloud objectivity.

When the NBA first resorted to it in 1979, I must admit I thought it was a circus rule, the equivalent of asking players to be shot out of cannons or swallow swords, something borrowed from the stepchild ABA with its red, white and blue basketballs. A 3-point line? The beautiful game of basketball didn't need a clown shot.

Durant has developed a LeBron Complex, sounding like he wants to be his best buddy LeBron as well as beat him.

When Durant was in college, I predicted on 'First Take' he would lead the NBA in scoring and began calling him my favorite player.