It's an unusual year in the Valley when not one of its four so-called major sports franchises enjoys even modest success. But while neither the Suns, D-Backs, Coyotes, nor Cardinals (as usual) could muster more wins than losses in the past 12 months, the Arizona Rattlers made their case to reign supreme over the hearts and minds of Phoenix sports fans.

The Rattlers could have thrown in the towel back in April, when they were toiling away in the bottom of the Arena Football League standings at a dreadful 3-5 -- with one of the toughest schedules remaining of any AFL team. Instead, Hunkie Cooper (who broke 20,000 career all-purpose yards), Sherdrick Bonner and sackmaster Bryan Henderson led the Rattlers on a 10-game winning streak, achieving what was once impossible by claiming the division title and home-field advantage throughout the playoffs. And no, not even a third straight ArenaBowl loss could sour such a feat.

Readers' Choice: Arizona Diamondbacks

Just when Amare Stoudemire had become the crown prince of the Valley sports market, Randy Johnson proved that the king has yet to leave the building. With the Big Unit's perfect game in May against the Atlanta Braves -- in which he set down, in order, all 27 batters he faced, while striking out 13 -- Johnson gave the Diamondbacks their first no-hitter in franchise history (Johnson's second) and a dismal season's lone bright spot. That was, until he later earned his 4,000th strikeout on June 29, becoming just the fourth pitcher in history to reach the milestone. And on September 15, he passed Hall of Famer Steve Carlton for third place on the all-time strikeouts list. A World Series ring, four straight Cy Young awards, close to 2,000 strikeouts, and now the perfect game -- all in a D-Backs uniform. As long as the Unit finishes his Hall of Fame career here in Phoenix, he won't just be the greatest left-hander to play the game -- he'll be the greatest athlete ever to represent the Grand Canyon State. Amare, wait your turn.

Readers' Choice: Randy Johnson

This authentic New England seafood house could easily be the best place to love the Boston Red Sox, but we figured being a BoSox fan and a Yankees hater were synonymous, and given the D-Backs' pummeling of the Yanks in the 2001 World Series, it's more universal to hate the Evil Empire.

Owner Bill Deacon, a burly Beantown boy at heart, opened the quaint Cape Cod-like joint in 2000 to create a West Coast haven for New Englanders and Red Sox fans. Not only does he televise every game, he has his own Green Monster, an oversize hot dog truck plastered with Red Sox paraphernalia that sits in the parking lot as a beacon for Boston fans. Lunch patrons can order authentic Fenway Franks, made with the actual ballpark's buns. When Red Sox supporters flood the restaurant, Deacon says Yankees fans are welcome, but, he adds, "I won't be responsible for what happens."

Abs of steel? We prefer a more natural look: abs of granite. We sculpt them at the Phoenician, where the glitzy Centre for Well-Being spa goes back to basics with its new "Nature's Gym" outdoor obstacle course. Starting at the base of Camelback Mountain, the all-natural workout finds fitness equipment in the desert's natural resources. Resort instructors lead 75-minute cross-training sessions, including stretches on desert boulders, pull-ups on paloverde trees, bicep curls with granite rocks, sit-ups on golf tee boxes and yoga exercises in flower beds. And packing a cardio punch: power walks on the golf course and stair-stepping through flowered paths. It all ends with cool-down stretches amid garden waterfalls and -- in our own restorative touch -- three vodka tonics poolside.

Who wants to dress to impress for a workout? Who wants to pay big bucks for the privilege of getting sweaty in public? And who really thinks that prestige matters when it comes to pumping iron? Nobody here, obviously. The Y is an ego-free oasis of self-improvement, and if its diverse membership wasn't so darn friendly and outgoing, you might never be able to tell the secretaries from the attorneys, or the techies from the art gallery owners. Camaraderie usually stems from butt-kickin' yet fun classes such as hatha yoga, Cycle Reebok or power step, but even if you're a loner who shows up to do some time on the treadmill or in the weight room, you'll be part of a community before long.

Like any worthy Paradise Valley woman, the Spa at the Camelback Inn had a lot of face work done recently. And, boy, does she look good. Even when her locker room was a little run-down, Camelback Inn still ran the best spa. We've always loved the tranquil pool area, the thick white terry robes, the impeccable nail, face and body services. But after a little lifting and tucking, the spa is better than ever. The hot rock massage is still the best in town, and so is the pedicure. Everything good has been preserved, just spruced up a bit.

And isn't that the sign of the best plastic surgery?

Readers' Choice: Camelback Inn Resort and Spa

Since Swell's merger with the more commercial Spin Records earlier this year, the shop's become the hands-down only place to go whether you're looking to drop the new Jay-Z joint into your next set, or you're in need of some underground breakbeats to juggle. Scope Swell's vintage section if you're looking to drop a Van Halen mash-up, or just browse the extensive selection of wax and check out the beats on one of the shop's eight headphone-equipped turntables. Then go blow up the spot with your new crate full of vinyl.

Readers' Choice for Best Place to Buy Hip-Hop Music: Zia Record Exchange

We were delighted to find this gem of a coffee house, nestled beside a frame shop across the street from Arizona State University. Three Roots has all the ingredients of the perfect college coffee house. There are plenty of comfortable places to sit, including tables for laptops and couches for lounging. The lighting is perfect, the walls painted deep shades and hung with interesting art (what we saw on a recent visit looked like human organs set in wax), with great music playing (that particular morning: the soundtrack from The Royal Tenenbaums). There's a bookshelf, a basket of toys and a place to register to vote. The drink selection is broad, featuring Revolution tea produced in Tempe, and the place even serves wraps from Cafe Lalibela around the corner. We overheard interesting snippets of conversation and noticed that on her break, one of the servers was weaving on a loom.

We have to go now. But you know where you can find us.

Any place where Jaime Pressly, Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton have dirtied the sheets, we're sold on. Since this precious, modernist boutique hotel opened in Old Town Scottsdale earlier this year, it's been a magnet for the elite, the famous, the rich and the beautiful. Other than the lovelies already mentioned, Ice-T and wife Coco have been spotted partying at the James' ultra-hip J Bar, Woody Harrelson spent the weekend in one of the James' posh suites watching movies on a 42-inch plasma television screen (one comes with each room), and Mikhail Baryshnikov and Jimmy Kimmel have dined together in the James' highly rated Fiamma Trattoria restaurant. So just think, when you have a drink at the J Bar, you're kicking it with Ice-T. When you enjoy a plate of pasta at Fiamma Trattoria, you're supping with Jimmy Kimmel. And when you sleep in one of the James' gorgeously appointed rooms, you're sleeping with, uh, Woody Harrelson. Or maybe you're having a slumber party with Jaime Pressly, Nicole Richie and Paris Hilton all at once. Hey, it's a free country. We won't judge.

They leave well-rested, well-nourished and well-traveled. But at Metcalf House, a hostel that's more like a home, guests sometimes leave almost as much behind.

The historic hostel is on Ninth Street between Portland and Roosevelt, and part of its charm resides not only within the wood and brick crevices of the almost century-old house, but also in the knickknacks, art and handwritten musings of travelers past. Once you make it through Metcalf's lush front entrance of bamboo, ferns, palms and cactuses, you'll find a handmade cuckoo clock left by a German tourist above the living room fireplace. Tacked to the ceiling above the dining room table are more than a dozen portraits drawn by a visitor who spent six months at Metcalf House. Others leave foreign currency on windowpanes, helpful hints for getting around Phoenix (in foreign languages), or flags of their home country draped across one of the 18 beds the hostel provides.

For $15 a night (or $30 for the hostel's only private room), guests get plenty in return. Manager Sue Gunn is known to mother weary travelers with tidy and cozy accommodations, and the backyard firepit -- with a great view of the downtown skyline -- provides ample ambiance for a night's worth of conversation.