As this week’s special, I’ll bet you the cold beverage of your choice that Michael Jordan averages at least 18 points a game this season for the Washington Wizards. I’ll meet you in April at the Scene sports desk at McCabe Pub, and you can make mine a Diet Dr. Pepper.

Considering the general flow of opinion, which holds that MJ will have to be rechristened “His Air-Ballness” after a host of poor showings, maybe you should give 2-to-1 odds on this wager.

For weeks, America’s sports punditocracy has been poo-poohing the return of Michael Jordan. In fact, there’s been such a flowing torrent of editorial hogslop, such a proud trumpeting of ignorance, such a bombast of BS over this issue, you’d suspect that Don King and Steve Gill had somehow joined forces and taken over the nation’s sports pages.

The largest wing of the movement to keep Jordan in long pants holds that MJ’s return to the NBA is the ill-advised, self-indulgent fantasy of a man who won’t accept the consequences of advancing age. How, the nay-sayers wonder, can he guard younger, quicker players like Allen Iverson, Kobe Bryant, and Vince Carter? At 38, they figure, Jordan won’t be able to keep up with the pace, much less soar over Shaq and Marcus Camby for the spectacular dunks that were once his trademark.

A whacked corollary to this doctrine is that Michael doesn’t even have the right to come back. He owes it to his legend—which, in the eyes of some Media Geniuses, belongs more to all of us than to him—to remain securely in retirement. They remember the way Larry Bird struggled before he finally surrendered to his aching back, and how painful it was to watch Willie Mays stumble and flail with the Mets in 1973. We don’t want to remember Jordan like that. It’s MJ’s responsibility, huff the MGs, to ensure that our enduring image is of the player who could leave the ground, change hands in traffic, and still make a jaw-dropping shot before touching down—the player who hit the last shot to win the last game of his career.

According to the loopiest strain that until recently was released into the environment by Commissioner David Stern, Jordan should remain on the golf course, in the casinos, in the front office—anywhere but on the court—so that he doesn’t steal the spotlight from all the younger talents whom the NBA would like to showcase as Second Comings. (Bro. Stern, whose brain at times seems shielded by an impenetrable casing of lead, evidently hasn’t seen the sickly TV ratings earned by his young Heir Jordans.)

Of course, the Commissar’s attitude began to change when he perceived that the networks and ticket buyers around the NBA were stumbling over themselves to get into Wizards games after Jordan announced his return. Stern’s thinking, if we may use that term broadly, will evolve even further once he sees what MJ does on the court.

Let’s be realistic. The new Michael is not likely to be confused with his former self. He is not likely to torch defenses for 25 points per game. And the Wizards, though they will improve significantly, are not likely to make the playoffs.

Still, there are plenty of reasons why Jordan will leave no one questioning the wisdom of his comeback.

First, the NBA’s newly allowed zone defenses will become Jordan’s best friends. He’ll find creases to launch his shots and, at the other end, he won’t always have to guard players like Iverson and Kobe in isolation. In fact, Shaq may have a more difficult time on offense than His Airness.

Michael has one last ace, too: Nobody, not even his own team, expects him to score 25 points per game. Freed from that burden, look for Jordan to dish the ball to Richard Hamilton or Kwame Brown if defenses key on him. When opponents recalibrate, Michael will snatch his points.

But mostly, and as Berra-esque as it sounds, MJ will do well because scorers know how to score. Maybe he can’t fly anymore. But his scoring average never hung on his hang-time. Even more than on his remarkable physical skills, Jordan always depended on his skill at measuring and outwitting defenders. Those abilities only sharpen with age and practice.

Every aging pick-up player knows that one of the most satisfying parts of the game is relying on guile and experience to beat younger, more athletic players. (As it happens, aging boomers are precisely the audience the NBA needs to recapture.)

Like most ground-bound rec-leaguers, I could never relate to Jordan’s acrobatics anyway. But I can sure appreciate a pump fake, a strategically placed hand check, and a tooth-rattling pick. And with my hard-won Diet DP in hand, I’m going to be howling all year as Michael takes all these young whelps back to school.

How it looks from the La-Z-Boy

Titans 13, Buccaneers 10

Remember the Titans? That team that was supposed to make its way back to the Super Bowl this season, after its rightful spot was usurped by Baltimore a year ago?

Based on their performances so far, those Titans could be a distant memory before long. They not only look like a different team from the past two seasons, they’ve looked like a different team in each of their three outings.

Against Miami, they looked out of sync. Against Jacksonville, they looked like their bad old defensive selves, but lacked any offensive spark. Against Baltimore last Sunday they simply looked overmatched. And that was after Coach Jeff Fisher challenged their pride and urged them to play hard.

So it’s hard to know what to expect this week, except to say that expectations have been revised dramatically downward. In fact, since they play each other on Sunday, and games cannot end in ties, it is entirely possible that one of the worst two teams in the NFL—Dallas and Washington—will claim their first victory before Tennessee manages a W. Sometimes, the world turns upside down.

Here’s a vote, however, that at least a little bit of order will reassert itself this weekend. Though the Bucs come in with a bristling defense, their offensive power is weaker than Miami, Jacksonville, or even Baltimore (especially without Warrick Dunn). And though Tennessee’s secondary is weak without Samari Rolle, the pass rush has been ineffective, and running lanes for Eddie George have been almost nonexistent, the Titans will be back home in front of a friendly crowd. And that, to paraphrase Robert Frost, will make all the difference.

Georgia 27, Vanderbilt 20

For all the unpredictability we’ve seen from the Titans, the Commodores have been as regular as the sunrise. Unfortunately, the forecast calls not only for more pain in Vandyland but more heartbreak, too. Once again, the Charlie Browns in black and gold will advance on the teed-up ball; and, once again, the Lucy of Fate, with an assist from Georgia, will snatch it from them dramatically at the last instant.

The biggest suspense is how the deed will happen. Maybe it will be a muffed trick play again, or a turnover at the one-inch line, or some calamity for Vanderbilt we can’t even envision. At least it won’t be a total loss at Dudley Field. Half the crowd, which is almost certain to include 20,000 Georgia fans, will go home happy.

Miami 24, Florida St. 17

Florida 30, Auburn 14

Alabama 17, Ole Miss 14

South Carolina 24, Arkansas 14

LSU 20, Kentucky 10

Mississippi St. 30, Troy St. 10

UCLA 17, Washington 13

Ravens 20, Packers 13

Steelers 26, Chiefs 13

Bengals 20, Browns 17

Rams 30, Giants 17

Raiders 27, Colts 21

Cowboys 2, Redskins 0