Mike Celizic

’Tis the season to be jolly, the season of giving, the season to get misty-eyed at corny Tim Allen movies.

It is not a time for cheap shots and bad jokes about lumps of coal. So, in the spirit of the season, let’s try being nice for one day.

If I were Santa, I know what I’d be handing out in the world of sports.

I’d start with a reliable test for HGH and designer steroids, so we could stop playing guessing games about who’s being true and who’s cheating who. Along with it, I’d give Bud Selig the good sense to stop digging up the past and worry about the future. And I’d give Donald Fehr the understanding that it’s in the interests of his players to embrace stricter testing instead of fighting it.

For Dick Vitale, a new voice that comes in at just a tad less volume.

For Chris “Ethel” Berman, a new shtick that doesn’t make me want to change the channel when he’s doing highlights.

For baseball fans in Pittsburgh, Kansas City, Tampa, Cincinnati and Texas, management teams who can figure out how to build teams that can do something other than hold down last place from one end of a dreary season to another. You folks have been getting lumps of coal in your stockings for too long. You deserve one decent season.

For Cleveland, a championship. I don’t even care what sport it’s in. Any championship will do for the city where hope goes to die. Come to think of it, Philadelphia could use the same gift.

For the Dolphins and Falcons, coaches and players who can win more than a couple of games. I know that somebody has to be last, but what happened to those teams this year is ridiculous.

I’d give Seattle an NBA owner who understood that it’s a great town for his team and that there’s nothing wrong with paying for his own arena.

For Isiah Thomas, a pink slip. Believe me, he’ll thank James Dolan for firing him and putting him out of his misery. And if doesn’t, Knicks fans will.

For Charlie Weis, some serious college-level coaching ability. And for Notre Dame, a Saturday afternoon when the echoes awake from their long slumber.

For Hawaii and Boise State and all the other great college football teams that aren’t considered to have the breeding to play with the big boys, a shot at the national championship game.

For college football, the end of the BCS and the beginning of a real playoff.

For Andy Roddick, a win over Roger Federer in a major.

For Michelle Wie, a year of steady improvement free of ridiculous forays into the men’s tours.

For Bill Belichick, a sense of humor.

For Eli Manning, consistency.

For Terrell Owens, humility.

For Donovan McNabb, a day without having to read that the Eagles can’t win with him at quarterback.

For Reggie Bush, a healthy knee and a role that fits his talents.

For da Bears, a quarterback.

For Brett Favre, a fabulous playoff run and yet another year just as good as this one.

For the NHL, television ratings. You’ve got a terrific sport. I keep hoping someone realizes it.

For American soccer, dividends at the gate and in the game from David Beckham’s presence in the league. But this time, let’s hope the interest is for more than one player.

For Tony Romo, a good-luck girlfriend; preferably one who can sit with the other wives and girlfriends in the family section instead of needing her own luxury suite.

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For Greg Maddux, the eight more wins he needs to overtake Roger Clemens on the career victory list. I know Clemens said he never took those drugs his trainer says he did, but just the same, I’d like to see a guy who never threw hard enough to splash water overtake him.

Speaking of Clemens, I’d give him the same thing I’d give Barry Bonds — retirement. I think baseball will figure a way to get along without you.

For either Phoenix or Dallas, because both can’t have one the same year, an NBA championship. Your teams have been too entertaining for too long to keep getting shut out in the postseason.

I was going to give Sergio Garcia a major championship, but decided what he really needs is a putting stroke. If he has that, the championship will take care of itself.

For the Tour de France, a year without a single drug disqualification and a winner fans can believe in.

For Alex Rodriguez, one genuine, non-scripted, utterly human moment.

For the Boston Red Sox, not a thing; they’ve got it all. And the same goes for Tiger Woods. Your stockings are beyond full. Just enjoy it, guys.

And for you, the readers, the best of everything at this holiday season and great New Year.

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