A funny thing happens when you are tasked with writing something - not something, mind you, but anything:  Anything that you can think of to write - restricted only by your desire to write it.  From day one in grade school your writing universe is always defined and, therefore, restricted by circumstance or authority.  I never before realized or had reason to consider that such a restriction actually makes it easier to get started.  Now, here I sit, poised to write a column (can I call it that?) on sports and jokes dot com with a significant dilemma.  What should I write in an infinite universe?

While the universe is infinite, the standard in this particular shop is simple and that makes things easier.  Namely: write something interesting that a reader can start and finish while sitting on the can at work- and without making his secretary wonder what in God's name is going on in the bathroom.  Length is important for two reasons: (1) as stated, and for various and many obvious reasons, you don't want to keep someone on the toilet too long; and (2) an article cannot be more than a few pages because it should accommodate discretion (in other words, it may need to be folded up and stuffed in a back pocket in order to be conspicuously transported into the bathroom) - this consideration mandates a 5 page maximum.  Although I do marvel; half awe and half disgust- at the guy who can stroll through the office with a full newspaper under his arm, wink at the receptionist and charge right into the men's room.

I just thought of a topic - Dominique Wilkins.  Nice.  I'm dedicating it to my teenage self, Ted and Tom, but I'm putting off the main course for a few more words because that last sentence of the last paragraph just reminded me of something that needs to be addressed.  And now that I have a forum coupled with boundless liberty, I'm grabbing the opportunity to make a quick declaration about proper office-bathroom etiquette, a topic which regretfully has been entirely neglected by Emily Post.  So here goes:  I don't care how many stalls there are in the men's room.  If one is taken - they're all taken.  Seriously, what kind of person can comfortably sit down on a toilet located 18 inches from another toilet and an anonymous man who's doing unspeakable things that center around his ass and its horrible discharge? (The stall wall offers little protection.)   If decorum requires me to wear a tie at work, it should, in turn, prohibit the spectacle of two men sitting next to each other evacuating their bowels.  Rape and sodomy aside, isn't the communal bathroom supposed to be one of the more disagreeable aspects of incarceration?  Anyway, I can't believe this needed to be said, but it did.  So from now on when you walk into the men's room at work, if someone is in one of the stalls pretend that it's Senator Craig and get the hell out of there.  Try again a few minutes later for crying out loud.

Now for something sports related.  Dominique Wilkins was robbed in the 1988 NBA Dunk Contest.

Remember the Dunk Contest?  Remember the NBA?  Well, back in the 1980s the NBA was just like today's NBA except that it wasn't an utter disgrace.  People actually watched pro basketball.  There were exciting teams and there were exciting players, each of whom didn't necessarily have a 12 man posse, a rap video and a criminal record.  It actually was fantastic.  Julius Erving was a legend, Larry Bird and Bernard King ruled, Magic would make out with Isaiah before playoff games- actually that was weird (wtf was that?), Michael Jordan was up and coming and he and Dominique Wilkins were the reason that every basketball hoop in every backyard was lowered to 8.5 feet.  Thinking about how good the NBA was really highlights what a train wreck it has become today.  The other day, tacked on to the end of an entirely unrelated voice-mail, my Dad dead-pan stated that he was racing home to watch the Spurs play the Hornets. I laughed out loud because he would sooner pull, twist and snap off one of his thumbs- and he used to play basketball.   I would go on, but Today's NBA is undeserving of any commentary beyond stating that it sucks.

By 1988 Jordan was a superstar, but he was still considered human and there were some-what legitimate debates regarding who was better, Michael Jordan or ‘Nique.  In hindsight the debate was absurd because in almost all facets - defense, scoring, passing, rebounds, desire and determination, Jordan was superior... everything but dunking.  Regarding scoring, Dominique was a machine and numbers-wise he was almost Jordan's equal.  However, it's been said that in overtime during a time out, Jordan would be figuring out how to win the game and Dominique might be correcting someone who erroneously declared that he had 37points - "No, 38. That shot I hit at the end of the first was actually a three."  So that leaves dunking.  But at the time, especially if you were immature, dunking was important and Dominique was stunning.

There's a reason he was called the Human Highlight Film.  Take a look at this little montage (remember, even Rocky had a montage) www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyUf-9ruJi8. (If you are in the bathroom now remember to click on these links when you get back to your desk).  This montage stands the test of time, but if you put this in the context of the time based on how the game was played up until then, it was outrageous.  It's just like how Bob Dylan's Highway 61 Revisited is phenomenal now, but considering it was recorded while the Beatles were doing the Ed Sullivan show and singing about wanting to hold hands, the historical context makes Highway 61 all but incomprehensible.  That's how good Dominique Wilkins was at dunking.   (As a complete aside, John McEnroe said that he once got to meet Bob Dylan and the first thing Dylan said was "I heard that you could dunk.")

Anyway, Dominique beats Jordan to win the 1985 slam dunk contest and the two do not square off again until 1988... after Jordan captured the 1987 dunk crown ('Nique sat out due to injury).  So Jordan/Wilkins II is finally on... in Chicago.  To me, that's the equivalent of putting Ali-Frazier II in Louisville and picking the winner based on applause, but I'll let you decide.

Round One:  Out of the gate, it's Dominique - clearly.  A ridiculous reverse by Wilkins where at one point he has the ball located below his knees verses a calm version of that trademark soaring-from-the-side-Jordan-lean-in by Michael.  Jordan's dunk is phenomenal in its own right and way above the rest of the pack, but the reverse by 'Nique would have your grandmother saying f*ck!

Round Two:  Again to Dominique - not that it matters too much because all these guys are doing is making sure that they get to finals.  For the record, Jordan gives us a graceful version of the first Wilkins jam, and Dominique answers with furious one handed 360.

Round Three:  This is where things get going.  Jordan jumps from the foul line and dunks.  Unreal yes, but it's a copy of the Julius trademark established in the ABA a decade earlier.  Notwithstanding, it is extraordinary and worthy of the perfect score - but, having said that, we've seen the foul line dunk before.  Dominique answers by throwing down a devastating one-handed windmill l- ouch!   Personally, I give this round to Wilkins - power, awe, vertical and authority, but can understand that there may be a reasonable difference of opinion based on universal deference to the foul line dunk - so I'll give it to Jordan- the guy just jumped from the foul line and dunked - even though I like the wild one-hand windmill, I'll give it to Jordan.

Round Four:  Jordan gives us another of his trademark soaring-from-the-side-Jordan-lean-in-dunks.  This one is more spirited than the first time he did it in round one.  It's awesome, yeah, but we already saw him do this.  If repeating dunks is ok, why not just jump from the foul line every time for all perfect scores?  There must be consideration paid for a repeat dunk, right?  Answer: No.  This is Chicago.  These people fix presidential elections for f*ck sake - I'm not kidding. They actually fixed the 1960 election for the US presidency and it made the difference- Chicago political bosses literally gave the the election to Kennedy (look it up).  Do we really think Wilkins has a chance?  In any event, Dominique answers with a marvelous two handed 360, but he's raised the bar too high for it to knock anyone out.  Round four is a draw.  But that's it - no more repeating dunks.

Round Five:  Granted the slam dunk champ is not determined by rounds won, it's determined by the best score per round.  Notwithstanding, it's interesting to go round by round and give a running tally.  Heading into Round Five, it's Wilkins 2, Jordan 1(and one tie).  Jordan just swooped in from the right holding the ball with one hand, moving his head out of the way of the rim and dunking as he flies by.  Holy Sh*t!

Dominique answers with something more difficult than good looking.  Running down the baseline he pumps, brings the ball down, soars face through the net and does a reverse dunk as he blows under, through and by the rim.  Impossible, but Jordan's dunk is a thing of beauty.  2-2.

Round six:  You can't really believe what Wilkins does here - technically all he did was throw it off the backboard and stuff it, but WHOA!  At one point the rim is at his chest- and the ferocity- damn!  The stunned crowd sits silently as the ousted contestants explode in obsequious jollification.  DOMINIQUE!!   Jordan answers:  Huge dunk- the Jordan version of the reverse that Dominique started with.  Just as good, but different - Jordanesque. These guys are the best.   Still 2-2

Round seven:  Still tied.  I can explain what these guys did in round seven, but words don't really capture it: 'Nique a stunning version of a baseline windmill and Jordan does some crazy cradle motion:  Still Tied.

Final Round:  The scene is tense.  All of the other contestants have turned into fans (why did they even bother competing?) and the place is buzzing.  This IS Ali Frazier II.  I remember watching this with the same excited sense of nervousness that was usually reserved for NFC Championship games or any Cowboy game against the detestable Redskins (Screw you, Joe Theismann!).

Wilkins goes first.  MOTHER OF GOD!!!!!!   A two handed windmill - Bam! That's it. Over. You can't top that.  Not even Jordan can top that in Chicago.  Done.

What happened next was the most blatant exhibition of network-television-pushing-a-product-B.S. than I had ever seen (at least at the time).  Jordan was being turned into Coca-Cola right on national TV.  That fact combined with some good, old fashioned, every-vote-is-rigged, crooked Chicago politics, and the result was inevitable.  The fix was already in.  The only catch was that Jordan needed to do something better than that sledgehammer Wilkins just pounded into the United Center floor - and that was impossible.

So here's what happens.  The crowd is reeling from the Windmill, but excitement starts percolating as Jordan backs up all the way to the other end of the court.  He backs up slowly like he's grinding a tight winch- the buzz in the arena builds. Oh man, what's he going to do?  He already jumped from the foul line so that's out.  And, oh yeah did I add mention that a few rounds earlier Jerome Kersey also jumped from the foul line?  Well he did, so at this point we've seen Dr. J's dunk performed twice already and once by Jordan.  So what's he gonna do?

Beat.  He jumps from the foul line again, gets perfect score and wins the stupid contest. Wilkins was robbed!

Check out an abbreviated version of the whole contest here: www.youtube.com/watch?v=bfk_EYrShvY