On Thursday, the Yankees announced an agreement with pitcher Scott Erickson to a minor-league deal, and that's great news for guys headed to Tampa for a few spring training games in two weeks. Guys like me.

No, I won't be coming back with pictures of Derek Jeter, Alex Rodriguez or Johnny Damon. They've been sequestered by the WBC to compete for a championship involving some of the world's best talent. Unlike the World Series, which is competed for by all of the world's best talent.

But there's now a chance to run into Lisa Guerrero, Erickson's sportscaster/model wife who was recently featured in Playboy and who will now be the subject of "Lisa Guerrero Lotto," where my friends and I try to become the first to spot her, with a free night of drinking as the prize.

I have so many things to ask her. Like what it was like to work on Monday Night Football. If she ever wondered how her husband amassed $40 million in career earnings with a .511 winning percentage and a 4.57 ERA. And whether doing "tasteful" nudes makes it any less likely that lonely men will be shooting their jizz all over her face.

• Tons of Lisa Guerrero galleries
• Lisa Guerrero's Playboy photos

Other Thoughts of Great Interest to the Planet:

• How come we never see "Parts Unknown" as a hometown for pro wrestlers anymore? Did Vince McMahon start cracking down on IDs?

• I know. I know. I can't believe there's a Biography episode on Robby Benson, either.

• Pro wrestling ref would have to be the best job ever. You can fuck up all day, not see a damn thing, serve as an agent of injustice, then come back to the locker room and everyone's like, "Great job out there!"

• The Westminster dog show came and went, and I'm no more likely to get a dog now than I was last week. I know dogs are man's best friend and all, but I have a lot of good friends already, and I don't have to clean their crap off the sidewalk.

• Biggest laugh I got all week: My new maid asks if she came come on Saturday. I say sure. She asks, "How about 8 a.m.?"

• A friend reasoned that strippers in Las Vegas are the best, because they're American and you can talk with them. Which is fine, if you like good conversation while your crotch is being grinded.

• I know there are more typos on this site than there on zits on a 14-year-old Cheetos-eating champion. But my mistakes come from missed keystrokes and a hurried edit process (none), not illiteracy. So, to all the people out there who constantly write "DEFINATELY" — you're a fucking idiot. You can't spell if you don't read. You can't be smart if you don't read. You can't be smart if you can't spell.

• It's feedback like this that keeps me going: "I stumbled upon your site via SportsByBrooks.com, and you've got yourself a new loyal reader. I especially enjoy the profanity." I told him to go fuck himself. Seriously, though, is that the most easily-entertained reader ever? I could just write "ass, fuck, pussy, cock, motherfucker" and have a readership of at least one.

• I need a math whiz to help me with a formula for my planned feature titled "Elevator Farting: An Illustrated Guide to Success." I want to determine empirically whether it's riskier to let one fly in an empty car with eight floors to go four hours after a chili-and-burrito lunch, or 12 floors to go one hour after a low-stank breakfast like a bagel and orange juice.

• Boy, those online store locators that don't filter nearer than 25 miles from a zip code are a big help. You know how many businesses are within 25 miles of the Upper West Side? About a trillion.

• Don't you love it when guys like Tom Jackson (0-2 in Super Bowls) are asked to play the role of "expert" and share how players should be prepping for the big game. I'd love to see Peyton Manning guest on a Super Bowl pregame show and have James Brown ask him what was going through the players' minds. "Uh, how the fuck would I know, James?"

• Cheryl Hines, who plays Larry David's way-too-hot-for-him wife on Curb Your Enthusiasm once played the role of Trailer Park Lady in an episode of Reno 911!? Yep.

• Sucks that mailing a letter went up from 37 cents to 39 cents, but that's still $300 less than it would take me to deliver something myself to L.A., so I think I'll still use the USPS.