John Gonzalez is the new Page 2 sports columnist for The Inquirer, a local guy who thwacked his way through the journalistic swamps of Dallas and Boston before finding the path back home. Talk about a tough road trip.

He's a very good writer and a pretty funny guy, with a slightly offbeat perspective, which probably explains why his face is tilted in his "Gonzo" logo. Either that or he looks like a dog hearing a sound it doesn't fully understand. If you ever open the section and John's face is completely upside-down, this will serve as the international warning sign of distress and you must begin twittering among yourselves until the all-clear signal is given.

Gonzo, if I'm reading the promotional literature properly, is going to provide a regular, similarly tilted view of Philadelphia sports, hook us up with what's being said in the blogosphere - which used to be nothing more than the symbol of the 1964 World's Fair - and bring back the fun. At least as much of it as he can fit around the TV/Radio schedule.

Phil Sheridan and I are down with the concept and our foreheads will be swapping e-mails with John's (upright) forehead on Page 2 as well. So far, so good, and since you've no doubt already turned the page, check it out for yourself. It's somewhere on the page that is topped by a picture of a cheesesteak being held by someone with a very strange-looking thumb. You'll find it. When we play golf together, we yell: "Fore-head."

I'm all for diving into the future, even though I still think MySpace is the distance I like to keep from other people and FaceBook is what cops show when they're looking for the perp. Bring on the future. It was just last week we had to wake up Mr. Mergenthaler at 10 o'clock every night and have him stoke the fire beneath the hot-lead bucket in preparation for the next day's editions. As I look across the hall, even Rich Hofmann has gone all bloggy on us. To paraphrase O. Henry: When the last Ivy Leaguer falls, so shall I. Color me hep.

But - and I should mention this was all the idea of Cohen (the boss), so judge it in that context - there are some keys to navigating the local sports landscape, some things that might be helpful to John as he reacclimates himself to a city that doesn't share either the sporting joy of Boston or the fine freeway system of Dallas.

In no particular order, here are a few recommendations:

Never, never eat the food in the 76ers' press room. There's something wrong with it, aside from the fact that the chicken, beef and fish are indistinguishable from the perspective of taste.

When you park your car in the lot at the Phillies game, always remember to hide the parking pass that has your name and affiliation on it. Bill Conlin forgot to do that last season and when he came back, there were 1,400 Yuengling cans stacked on the roof, a replica Phillie Phanatic hanging by a noose from the antenna and several cans of Cheez Whiz emptied into the carburetor.

If you become stuck for a reaction-evoking column idea, try saying something nice about: Eric Lindros, Von Hayes, J.D. Drew, Terrell Owens, Mike Mamula, Gregg Jefferies, Norman Braman, Scott Rolen or Chris Webber. Or, try saying something nasty about: Buddy Ryan, Richie Ashburn, Kate Smith, Julius Erving, Fran Dunphy, Tug McGraw, Billy Cunningham, Jerome Brown or Joe Paterno. Bobby Clarke used to be in that group, too, but not so much now. And to this day - even though he thinks tiny men who resemble Alf will soon land their time machines and take us to that great clubhouse in the sky - don't even think about ripping Darren Daulton.

Make an attempt to familiarize yourself with the Herb Good Basketball Club, the Schuylkill Navy, the Maxwell Football Club, the Prior Cricket Club and the John Wanamaker Athletic Award. All of Mr. Mergenthaler's friends who wait for the dead tree to hit the driveway at 7:30 each morning will be your pals for life.

At the Flyers, do not waste your time watching the replays of the goals between periods. No one has ever actually seen a hockey goal and no one ever will. Just write that the puck hit someone's skate, then someone's butt and went in by accident. Most of the time you will be correct. Dress appropriately for that press box, however. Blazers required.

Remember when covering the Eagles it is unfair, and a little out of bounds, to constantly remind readers that Jeff Lurie really wanted to buy the Patriots, but was summering on Corsica when the last bids were taken. Also, after a loss, always adopt the pained look of the other reporters in the locker room. Try to summon up the feeling of when a cherished family pet passed away, lest anyone think this is a laughing matter.

If someone from the office suggests you drive to State College, begin to suffer a loud coughing fit. The last time I drove the Pennsylvania Turnpike on a fall weekend, there were so many deer crossing the road it looked like a video game.

If Cohen calls, don't answer.