THE CHEAP SEATS with STEVE CAMERON: Time to sound off … and get off my lawn!

Every few weeks, I get in the mood to write a “grumpy” column.
You know, skimming over various things that give me a headache — and even how some of them could be fixed if I simply were made “Emperor of Sports” for a day or two.
Yes, yes, I realize that a few people who disagree with me on various subjects would grind their teeth into dust.
Just for reader Candace and her fellow Zags fans, though, I would begin my reign as emperor with a decree that Anton Watson is a fine young man and a very useful basketball player.
It’s true that I’ve suggested that the Zags suffer from time to time because Anton is mostly limited to running — with or without the ball — in straight lines.
In the new language of sports, he is not a “quick-twitch” athlete, which limits his effectiveness on a team that could use a player like that.
Furthermore …
As valuable as they are, neither Drew Timme nor Julian Strawther are quick-twitch guys, either.
Meanwhile, Nolan Hickman is exceptionally twitchy — although he doesn’t always know exactly the destination of his final twitch.
Or the ball.
SORRY.
But I warned you that this would tend toward grumpy.
Now then …
Let’s get around to handing out some further orders in my role as emperor.
From this day forward, there will be no more mindless public discussion of Tom Brady’s future.
After that embarrassing performance on Monday night — dragging the overhyped Bucs into the offseason where they belong — Brady now can strut away in any direction he chooses.
He can try it again with the 49ers or Raiders, run for mayor of Tampa, or slither off to live on a hillside in Nepal.
Good for him.
But “deep dive” analyses, million-word think pieces, and/or Netflix documentaries are done.
The GOAT is banned until training camp next summer.
Let’s just sum it up …
Tom Brady is good at football (or was, back in his early 40s), and that’s all the world needs to know.
Agreed?
Good.
Violate THAT decree, and you’ll find that the emperor has a collection of medieval torture devices in his basement.
MORE …
I’ve also had it with coaches (current and former) going on self-promotion sprees.
TV babble shows — and the thousand podcasts that survive by repeating the same stuff — are hereby banned from allowing Sean Payton and Jim Harbaugh to feather their careers with meaningless chat.
This goes for all other quasi-celebrities in sports, as well.
We’re looking at you, Derek Jeter.
Meantime …
Payton will wind up interviewing for most of the NFL head coaching jobs, discuss each one at length (including the draft choices each team would have to give the Saints), but eventually, he’ll turn them all down and spend another year in the buffet line.
Suggestion: Mix in a salad once in a while, Sean, or pretty soon you’ll be buying your suits from New Orleans Tent and Awning.
About Jimmy Harbaugh …
As an occasional cynic, I admire his blatant accumulation of cash as the expense of the University of Michigan — a school that touts itself as the “Ivy League of the Midwest,” but is more like the Suburban Detroit College of Helmet Design.
Year after year, Harbaugh flirts with one or two NFL teams — hinting that he’s ready to make a move — but then he reluctantly returns to Michigan, lugging …
Yep, a suitcase containing money, freshly printed by a collective of Wolverine boosters.
I wonder what would happen if they just told him, “Glad you’re staying, Jim, but the printing presses are jammed. No raise this year.”
Carolina Panthers, maybe?
That owner is swimming in thousand-dollar bills.
Lawsuits, too, but who’s counting?
WHAT ELSE can I fix during my tenure as emperor?
How about mandating that hockey pucks must be bright, glowing orange?
It’s a fantastic sport, and now we’ve seen the sizzling Seattle Kraken making history by sweeping a seven-game road trip, not to mention sitting happily in a playoff position in just their second season.
I love hockey, and in fact, I used to work for an NHL team.
But the league is never going to get a truly huge television contract because the game isn’t made for TV.
The puck is practically invisible among players banging and thrashing at each other.
The late and brilliant Los Angeles Times columnist Jim Murray once tossed out this opinion …
“Nobody has ever actually seen a hockey goal.”
Jim’s tongue-in-cheek theory was that you only knew there was a score because the players all raised their sticks — but to see it, you needed slow-motion replay.
Two or three times, maybe.
OK, so let’s try to give this thrill-a-minute sport its due, and help out by making the puck a blinding, florescent orange.
Memo to the NHL …
Start using the new pucks this weekend.
And thank me when you get that new TV deal.
Right, that’s all I can accomplish today.
No worries, though, I’ll declare myself in charge again whenever necessary.
Perhaps I’ll shake up the hideous officiating we see in every sport.
So …
Breathe easy.
Email: scameron@cdapress.com
Steve Cameron’s “Cheap Seats” columns appear in The Press four times each week, normally Tuesday through Friday unless, you know, stuff happens.
Steve suggests you take his opinions in the spirit of a Jimmy Buffett song: “Breathe In, Breathe Out, Move On.”