THE OPENING LINE

Monday, Nov. 26, 2007 | 7:15 a.m.

Snow flurries flutter to the Shea Stadium grass, the lights have glowed for an hour or so and fans inch through rows and aisles to their seats.

The last hint of daylight slips into a late-fall magenta hue.

Sinatra croons over the loudspeakers. It's either "Summer Wind" or "That's Life."

Joe Namath jogs out to the field. I've been there for 20 minutes, stretching or sprinting.

I meet him at the 20, wide right. I run five yards and cross in. The ball is there. I run eight yards and curl, and the ball is there. I run outs, flags and posts, and the ball is always right there.

I never drop it.

Wearing his white jersey, with the green No. 12 and wide green sleeve stripes, Joe Willie dances as he takes his five- and seven-step drops in those white Pony cleats.

It's pre-game warm-ups. The opponent never matters.

Soon enough, I'm jousting with the Sandman, deep asleep with no worries.

A few times a year - maybe more, depending on fluctuating stress levels - I go to my foolproof play, catching passes from Joe Namath, to cure insomnia.

Thank Ron Kantowski, who prodded me the other day, for my revealing such a personal predilection to the world.

Readers love that, he says. Love such insights and color and description. We'll see.

I'm not even from New York, don't even care about the Big Apple. I'm from Milwaukee. A cheesehead. Bart Starr. Robin Yount. Marques Johnson.

Joe Namath? There's just something about guaranteeing that the Jets would win Super Bowl III over the Baltimore Colts, then doing it.

The brashness of challenging authority, of owning a bar, Bachelors III, that undesirables frequented, and being the first prominent player to wear white shoes.

When the girlfriend saw my eyes bug out as we walked by a Joe Namath throwback jersey in a sports store last month, without hesitation or discussion, she bought it for me.

It hangs in the home office, or on various doors.

The infrequent times his number's called, Joe and the jersey are always there. They've never failed.

Having trouble snoozing? Might want to transport yourself to Shea and Sinatra and snow, in the late fall dusk of 1969. It could help.

Guaranteed.

THIS WEEK'S BEST BET

Idaho at Las Vegas Wranglers, 9:30 a.m. Thursday, Orleans Arena

Las Vegas beat Idaho in the playoffs two seasons ago, and the Steelheads zapped the Wranglers in April before winning the Kelly Cup. The rivalry continues Thursday, and Friday and Saturday night.

TICKETS: $12.50-$36.75 adults; $7.50-$10.50 children.

ON THE WEB: www.lasvegaswranglers.com.

ALSO WORTH A LOOK

Oregon State at Oregon, 1:30 p.m. Saturday, ESPN2

Watch OSU senior Gerard Lawson, a Palo Verde High graduate who returned a kick 100 yards last season. He averages 22 yards a return. The 5-foot-11, 196-pound cornerback has returned an interception for a TD this season.