What do you give the person who has everything?

Hey, I don’t need to worry about that. Cliff Lee, Carl Crawford and Adrian Gonzalez aren’t on my Christmas list.

Just about everyone else in the sports world is, though. And I’m in a giving mood. There’s nothing cheaper or more practical than random, hypothetical presents for people you don’t really know.

Also, there’s no more original idea for a friendly, neighborhood columnist who is one byline away from vacation.

(Insert raucous laughter and winking e-mail emoticon here …)

To Danny Woodhead: His freshman-year growth spurt. Sure, it’s a little early to ask for that at 13, but I’m feeling generous.

To Tim Whitehead: Another Hockey East title and Frozen Four appearance. That’s probably the only way to quiet the knuckleheads who want him fired every time the University of Maine hockey team doesn’t beat New Hampshire by six goals. It’s also likely the only reliable plan to restore the collective give-a-flip of the customarily front-running casual fan base in this state.

To Cindy Blodgett: A real, honest-to-goodness recruiting class for Maine women’s basketball. Players. Better ones. More of them. Everyone else has them. You don’t. And if I think it’s painful to watch, I can only imagine how a player of your not-so-distant greatness must feel.

To every high school basketball coach in Maine: Five kids who can make a 10-foot jumper and a free throw. Yes, I know. Nobody’s seen that under their tree since 1988. Also, it’s probably not a useful gift until an authority higher than I decides to banish the 3-point shot forever. Ol’ Saint Nick-Kalle-Us can only do so much by himself.

To all the traditional Class C high school football programs: New homes in Rumford and Mexico for 200 teenage football players, a gift that will keep on giving by keeping Mountain Valley in Class B. Otherwise, you don’t have a chance in hell of winning a state championship the next two years.

To the New York Yankees: Felix Hernandez, just to make it fair.

To Peyton Manning: An endless supply of excuses supplied on your behalf by a butt-smooching national media. Oops. Sorry. That must be what I dropped off at your place last year.

To ESPN: The courage and wisdom to stop making asinine comparisons between anything the Connecticut women’s basketball team is doing and what John Wooden’s UCLA teams accomplished.

To the Lewiston Maineiacs: Rapid improvement in the local economy and the continued forgiveness of fans who were put off by the organization’s ear-grating cover version of “Should I Stay Or Should I Go?” last winter. They’re playing good hockey and good people are doing good stuff behind the scenes in an effort to engage the community. Now that community just needs to notice.

To school administrators: Less of a traffic cop mentality and more willingness to let kids be kids at sporting events. There’s a reason they now avoid games in droves, choosing to stay home and play “Call of Duty” instead. They don’t want to deal with you wagging a finger in their faces every time they breathe too heavily. Seriously, unless they’re shouting slurs or outright harassing somebody, sit down and get over yourselves.

To the New England Patriots: Continued growth of that chip on their shoulders and the passion necessary to exceed the sum of the parts right through the first Sunday night in February.

To Portland and Bangor: The new civic centers your teams and fans need and deserve. See? There’s at least one person from Greater Lewiston/Auburn who isn’t insanely jealous of you.

To Antoine Walker: One more shot in the NBA. You never were a bad guy. And really, who among us hasn’t been $8.4 million in the hole at one time or another?

To Bobby Jenks: Nothing whatsoever in common with Eric Gagne.

To Bates College: The foresight and good sense, in this era of expansion and reconstruction, to never, ever, even consider remodeling the Alumni Gymnasium where your teams play basketball. It’s one-of-a-kind. It’s perfection. Leave it alone. Thank you.

To everyone impacted by the NFL: A new collective bargaining agreement that runs through the year 2525. If man is still alive. And if Brett Favre is weighing another comeback.

To those who love college football: Something to do Jan. 1. Northwestern and Texas Tech are playing that day? For real? I remember when we plunked down in front of our TV at 11 a.m. New Year’s Day, didn’t move except to answer nature’s call until midnight, and saw the mythical national champion crowned. Last I heard, Auburn and Oregon are playing for that distinction in April, or something like that.

To Ben Roethlisberger: Another “accidental” punch in the grill from a 315-pound defensive tackle. Or three. Just because.

To the ski industry: As much snow as you can possibly get in Newry and Carrabassett Valley without another inch falling in Androscoggin County.

To everyone who’s still reading and does so faithfully and consistently, even when you’d rather strangle me: A joyous, peaceful holiday and a smashingly successful, healthful new year!

Kalle Oakes is a staff columnist. His email is [email protected].