Wear a Sonics jersey, score more Twizzlers

Mr. Monday remembers his elementary school Halloween highlights like they happened yesterday — San Diego Chicken, executioner, flesh-eating zombie, Groucho Marx.

Ah, the '80s, when kids were actually allowed to dress up in their costumes for school.

The only costumes kids wear to school now are droopy drawers. On the first day of school, all kids should be given textbooks and a pair of suspenders.

(That ends Mr. Monday's new feature — paragraphs Mr. Monday's grandpa would write.)

This week, of course, is the time for Mr. Monday to preview this year's best sports-related Halloween costumes. Mr. Monday's looking for a new get-up, because who knows what kind of candy you can get in 2007 dressed as Groucho? Mr. Monday needs Twizzlers.

•Sonics season ticket holder.

Costume parts needed: Fading Shawn Kemp jersey, cargo pants, reduced carbon footprint, subpoena.

The bitterer, the better for this costume. Instead of saying "trick or treat,” go from house to house asking people if they remember Slick Watts.

•Starbucks Barista

Costume: Green apron, soul patch, Masters in Fine Arts degree.

Here's Mr. Monday's favorite (real) news item of the week. Starbucks has dropped its sponsorship of the Sonics and will no longer be the official coffee of KeyArena, Here's another scoreboard, coffee achievers — KeyArena, no; Britton and Broadway Extension, yes.

•Super Sauter

Costume: Mighty moustache, cowboy hat, Canadian pride, chompers, cape.

Mr. Monday still digs the story of Blazers coach Doug Sauter saving the day at the fair by biting the ear of a panicky horse. It's a great one to share at parties. Invest in an outrageous faux 'stache, which will get attention and help you bob for apples.

•Mandatory Kelvin Sampson joke

Costume: Blue denim shirt, NCAA handbook, flamethrower, giant Zack Morris portable phone.

Step one, put the NCAA handbook in a brown paper bag. Step two, leave it on Bob Knight's doorstep. Step three, ignite with flamethrower.

As Knight stomps it out, setting his pants on fire, call a recruit or two or 1,200.

Consider that a trick.

Mr. Monday is still waiting for a personal call from the coach himself. Figure he hasn't gotten down through the M's yet.

Consider that a treat.