Watchdog

Monday night is the second season finale of "My Boys,'' the TBS show about a female sportswriter in Chicago over which I have been obsessing since last fall.

It's still cute and still well written and still driving me nuts with its failure to grasp some of the basics of sportswriter reality.

Last week one of the characters - heroine P.J. Franklin's fellow Cubs beat reporter, Bobby - tells his friends he has to skip a party because he's headed to Atlanta "to do some player interviews.''

Why is a Cubs beat writer going to Atlanta in the middle of the season to interview Braves? (At least they picked a National League city.)

And why is his rival beat writer free to go to the day-long party in the suburbs rather than head to, you know . . . Wrigley Field or someplace?

Next time they do a series about a sportswriter they should make it about a football writer, because they actually have time for personal lives.

Better yet, make it about a Newsday columnist who works in his basement. Like Ray Barone of "Everybody Loves Raymond.'' Or me.