1. I had BlackBerrys for work and found them useful but nothing revolutionary;
2. I mistakenly chalked the iPhone hype up to characteristic Apple-fan hyperventilation;
3. I stuck to my old clamshell phone because I’m really cheap.

Now that I’ve jumped to an Android smartphone, this HTC Incredible is practically grafted onto my hand. Why? It’s the dope applications. My friend Ben recently got one and asked me which ones to load up on his phone, so to spread the love around, I went with 16 of my favorites here to fill up your home screen. So load up your Android phone with these mugs — all of them free — and you’ll be set:

Gmail: Awesome job replicating the web experience. I also like using this app separate from the main mail app to keep my work / personal email divide simple.

Twitter: They hooked up their Android app. The HTC Peep app is kind of weak, and the native Android Twitter client does a cool job of syncing with your contacts, but this thing is well done. Each new release updates the functionality nicely, including a pretty well-done widget.

Yelp: No need for Google Maps when you hook this app up – finds local stuff based on your location, and the ratings make it easy to narrow down which one you want to try. It’s weird now to think of city life without Yelp – nice work, Eric.

Dolphin HD: It took three Android browsers before I settled on this one. The native Android browser is displays Flash and has good graphical capabilities, but it’s slow; Opera Mini is fast but can’t do Flash and isn’t great for images or fonts; but Dolphin HD is just right. I also like the gesture interface.

NPR News: You get the major news without headline overload in an easy-to-read text format, plus hourly audio news summaries and easy audio download for other pieces. Haters can hate, but I give props to NPR as a rare non-hyperbolic news outlet.

BBC News: With this and NPR, apparently I’m a sucker for taxpayer-funded news, but I reach for this app when I want to remember that there’s a world of news outside the United States. Thanks, hyperbolic news cycle.

Chicago Tribune: Finally, a news outlet that can stay afloat without government money. (Wait … nevermind.) This app is apparently still in beta, but I love it. I’ve been looking for a solid Chicago-centric app for my phone, and this one nails it – breaking headlines, further in-depth local news from the paper, the Opinion section that I now read a lot more often (even as John Kass’ political nicknames irk me) and handy weather on the app homepage.

The Weather Channel: Loads better than the crappy HTC weather app that comes loaded with the phone, and stays in your status bar for a constant look at the temperature. Could use some cooler animation, but has all the info I need heading out the door.

BeyondPod: Tried several podcasting clients; this one’s easily the best.

ESPN Scorecenter: I should probably look beyond ESPN for potential sports-score apps, but when this one has everything I need and a super-intuitive interface, there’s no point in bothering.

Out of Milk: Solid shopping-list app, and I’ve tried several. You can scan barcodes, easily sort your items and cross them off with a single long press.

WordPress: For maintaining an entire site on a 3×5 screen, you can’t beat this one.

Facebook: Gets all your FB needs in a FB-branded package that looks exactly like you’d want the mobile-fied version of Facebook to look. I also like that the widget is just status updates — FB’s made it hard to find those anymore.

Chase: I mentioned these guys as a positive example for work recently, because in digital-consultant speak, they’ve got the multi-channel touchpoint optimization thing down. You can get the same banking done whether you’re at the teller, ATM, website or phone site/app, each one in a channel-friendly format. The deposit-by-photo thing doesn’t work that well, but it’s still a cool idea.

People: It’s a native app, but I love the automatic Facebook and Twitter syncing, the ease of importing contacts from Google, and the contact formatting. (Though why can’t I enter a letter and jump ahead when browsing the list?)

NY Times: I might read NPR, the Trib and the BBC more often than the NYT these days, but I can’t hate on these guys’ ability to be out in front of the news industry on almost every interactive count. This is an even better newsreading experience than nytimes.com on the PC.

Bonus 17th item: Angry Birds: The rest are all apps, so I’ll justify squeezing one more in because it’s an awesomely addictive game. You just can’t front on the blue splittable bird flying out of the slingshot.

Also-rans: Pandora, Google Translate, American Express, Tumblr, Astro, IMDB, Epicurious, Kayak.

I got into a debate on Facebook a few weeks back on whether it’s OK to have a second-favorite team in any given sport. This is particularly relevant for me these days.

While the Penguins are hockey team No. 1 for me, I’ve had a bizarre second-favorite thing going for the Chicago Blackhawks since I was ten. Though I had nothing to do with Chicago until college, this random second-place fandom was due to an older kid I knew liking them and the fact that, unlike Pittsburgh, Chicago was a playable team in Blades of Steel. (At least an 8-bit, gray-and-red team called “Chicago” was playable.)

(I realize I sound like a Cubs pink-hat using some forgotten trip to a great-aunt in Skokie at age 4 to justify getting hammered at Wrigley, but I’m for real in not being bandwagon. Ask G, considering I used to drag her to games in the Bill-Wirtz-era 2000s, when the Blackhawks truly sucked.)

With the Pens eliminated two rounds ago, I’ve been hoping for a Chicago Stanley Cup. I say having a second-favorite team in sports is OK, so long as you follow these rules:

1. There’s an unquestionable hierarchy of Nos. 1 and 2. You can’t go mixing things, or you’ll get in trouble if the two teams play each other. What did I do when Pittsburgh played Chicago in the 1992 Cup finals? Dropped the Chicago sympathies faster than BP’s stock price yesterday.
2. Your No. 2 can’t be a historic, regional or otherwise bitter rival of No. 1. Chicago and Pittsburgh rarely play each other, so I’m good here. You can never, ever like your favorite team’s archrival. If Baltimore gave me a key to the city and renamed itself Patstackiswesomeville, I would go buy one of those window stickers with Calvin peeing on the Ravens logo and tattoo it to my face just to make sure everyone knew how I really felt. (Luckily the first one will never happen, because that would be a pretty awful tattoo. The point is, Ravens suck.)
3. You can’t be elated if your No. 2 wins, just happy. Elation is saved for No. 1 only. If a No. 1 championship is “OMG AWSUM!!!1!”, then a No. 2 championship is, “Hey, alright, I like it.” No couch-burning or things like that allowed when it’s not your true favorite.
4. No. 2 fandom is usually preferable if your No. 2 is in the city where you currently live. You get the benefit of a happy populace, which means happy neighbors. But per Rule No. 3, don’t think you are allowed the same enjoyment as the true natives.
5. Temporary No. 2s are perfectly OK when No. 2 is playing a team you hate. The Blackhawks get to embarrass the Flyers? Double win!

So there you have it. In conclusion, I would like to say Go ‘Hawks (with no exclamation point, per Rule No. 3) and Ravens suck. Thank you.

• At first today, it really annoyed me that the entire media-swilling world spent the day rending its garments and pulling out its hair over Michael Jackson. (It’s 10 p.m. here, and the funeral is still the top story on CNN.com.) But then I thought, “Parts of the U.S. have been doing this for more than 30 years for Elvis, so this is really nothing new,” and I felt better about our modern era — or worse about past eras, I can’t decide.

• I’ve been asking people for a percentage: how many people watching Michael Jackson’s funeral know who Robert McNamara is, and they have to understand that he was far more historically important than MJ. The common response is less than 1 percent, but I would think it’s actually up around 4 percent. Call me an optimist.

In fairness to that other 96 percent, I did call him “George McNamara” at lunch today. But to burnish my own history-nerd credentials with an even bigger bit of nerdness, I was also thinking of McGeorge Bundy at the time.

• Key line from this good budget deficit rundown:

If policy now tilts too far toward deficit cutting, some argue, that would treat job creation as an option the nation somehow cannot afford, in contrast to “must haves” like tax cuts for wealthy Americans and unpopular foreign military entanglements.

True, but you also can’t ignore the fact that those tax cuts and unpopular entanglements were put in place, and now they are indeed making the job creation that much more financially difficult. I fall reluctantly in line with the spending advocates — I don’t think now is the time to pay down the deficit, because government spending at the moment really is a big portion of the money flowing into the economy. But if things do turn around, raise my taxes. It sucks, but it’s better than betting our economic livelihood on the whim of the Chinese government.

And on to frivolous stuff:

• I’m sorry to see the Penguins lose Rob Scuderi to the L.A. Kings, but they were right not to pay what the Kings paid. The dude is good, but not $13.6 million good.

• I got a Lollapalooza ticket for Sunday, August 9, hombres. Jane’s Addiction original lineup? I am hella there.

• This past Friday I went to see The Hangover. Verdict: four phats. Definitely some gross humor; definitely a weird Zach Galifinakis; and most likely worth seeing. (Though don’t take your parents.)

Even stranger, the movie featured both Heather Graham and Mike Tyson in prominent roles. Why is this strange? Those two were both guests at a 2004 arts-benefit party at the Guggenheim in NYC attended by yours truly, who by all rights should not have been there in the first place. (I’m pretty sure this Heather Graham photo is from that very night.) Mike Tyson is somehow even scarier when he wears fur, and I even made eye contact with Ms. Graham — or as I have no right to call her, Heather — for a full second.

The moral here? I really should have been offered at least a cameo appearance as the third part of that party trifecta, Hollywood.

Pittsburgh loves you, 2009!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Let’s Go Pens.

I tuned in for periods 2 and 3 of today’s NHL Winter Classic game, which saw Chicago get destroyed by the Red Wings in a comeback victory. (The Red Wings are always pulling this garbage against my favorite teams. Jagoffs.) The game didn’t have quite the finish that last year did, and I naturally wasn’t as invested without the Pens playing, but the ‘Hawks have long been my second-favorite team (years before I had ever thought of going to school in Chicago) and so it was good to see the game played just a mile up the road from our place.

In any event, I’m mad geeked about the fact that the Winter Classic is turning into the first hockey success story in years. This year gets an A for weather and an A for the matchup and team effort, but a B- overall because the Penguins weren’t playing and Detroit won. Those are both ridiculous reasons to downgrade the game, but then this blog exists at my beck and call, so you’re out of luck in your efforts to hate on my conclusion.

Bonus Sarah Palin note: I meant to write during the election that while the G.O.P., the American populace and the human race didn’t get much out of the idea of hockey mom Sarah Palin as VP, the NHL certainly did: For the first time in a nation where no-talent sportswriters have made hockey the go-to sport of ridicule, the same voters who treat sports that aren’t baseball or football as pastimes for gay foreign terrorists were defending hockey with all their American-purist might.

While I’m glad Palin has turkey-trotted off the national stage for now, I really miss that brief period when even Southern rednecks were touting hockey as a game played by Real Americans™.

And now, back to obscurity.

• I believe that even if I supported anything about Sarah Palin, I’d still be really sick of seeing her everywhere I turn. Conservatives would compare Palin’s star power to Obama, but Obama’s ascent took a good two years and wasn’t compressed into a two-week news cycle. He’s also one of the two people actually running for president.
• Another Palin-borne irony: after years of ignorant sports commentators decrying hockey as “not a real sport”, it’s now somehow true that being peripherally involved with organized hockey (even at the little-kid level) is considered a solid qualification for the Presidency of the United States. The NHL’s marketing department needs to jump on this with the quickness.
• Part of the reason I was excited to get to the University of Michigan this year was the chance to go to a school with a real football program. Nevermind my conflicted loyalties from being born in Columbus and having attending another Big Ten school; this was supposed to be my chance to claim a piece of the action as the Wolverines crushed all opponents. Instead I get games like this, this and also this (which, though a win, was most unimpressive.)

  Northwestern, meanwhile, is 3-0.

  Bastards.

• While searching for a sound effect that would convey Michigan football’s limpness, I did manage to get seriously geeked from this:

  ↑ ↑ ↓ ↓ ← → ← → B A what.

• Congrats to my cousin Dante and his wife Kari on their new son (and, simultaneously, their anniversary), who was born just this morning and is the first of the new generation in my family. Pitt, you just gained another fan.

What a bummer. They went down fighting to the very final seconds–I did the two-handed hair-grab and futile stare at the sky as the puck rolled past Osgood and across the goal mouth–but Detroit has just been too overwhelming this series. I haven’t seen stifling defense like that since the New Jersey trap era.

Props to you, Penguins, for a mad phat season and for never giving up. And please re-sign Brooks Orpik and anybody else you can. Orpik played his ass off and we’ll miss anybody else who goes.

Also, Zetterberg for the Conn Smythe is ridiculous. I would have chosen Osgood, Franzen, Holstrom or Lidstrom first.

Now back to our regularly scheduled non-sports blogging until football season rolls around.

You know, I was all set to write the Pens’ obituary, and yet I should not have given up on those Frenchies Maxime and Marc-André. And, of course, Sykora with calling the goal. The whole thing was the shiznit.

Now they need to avoid coming back and blowing Game 6 by 8-0 or something.

And sorry to my new neighbors for bringing the celebratory ruckus.