The beloved former athletes acquired the public land after promising the locals in 1999 that they'd turn the building into a job training center for poor kids. And over the years they have raised millions of dollars with that same pledge.

They've even hosted at least three groundbreaking ceremonies for the press at the job training center site since 2001, and actually began building on the site a couple years ago.

But no such facility has ever opened.

Perhaps Monk and Mann's group has been doing great deeds over the years at other sites around town while waiting for the Anacostia center to open; its website claims that "[m]ore than 65 students have participated in" its training program since 1997.

That's not a lot of kids per year, for sure, given the publicity and bucks thrown the Good Samaritan Foundation's way.

But, hey, that's more kids than I've helped. So I can't get worked up about that number.

But it's the lack of a training center, after the Good Samaritan Foundation has held so many fundraising events specifically for the training center, received hundreds of thousands of dollars in federal grants specifically for the training center, and even boasted about seven-figure donations  given to the group specifically for the training center, that continues to leave me awed.

I spoke with Lawrence Dark, executive director of the Good Samaritan Foundation, over the summer, just as Monk and Mann were holding their annual golf tournament to raise more money for the group. Dark told me at the time that the Anacostia training center would be open “in the next six to eight weeks.”

I'd been told similar stories about opening dates by the Good Samaritan Foundation over the years, and when I asked Dark about the etched-in-stone-ness of this latest deadline after oodles of missed deadlines, he added: “If it doesn’t rain."

And, in fairness to the Good Samaritan Foundation, it's raining as I write this.

And the center still ain't open: I drove by the Carver Theater over the holidays, and saw the front still boarded up and the place looking nowhere near ready for occupancy.

The fundraising continues, however.

Monk had a $200 a head dinner in November, with advertisements saying proceeds would go to the Good Samaritan Foundation. During promotions for this event, however, Monk's charity was also identified as "the Youth Power Center."

And radio ads for Wal-Mart during Redskins game broadcasts this season said that the retail giant would donate a portion of sales of certain items to Monk and Mann's charity, which again was identified as both the Good Samaritan Foundation and the Youth Power Center.

I called Dark up this week and told him I'd driven by the construction site, and asked him about the status of Monk and Mann's training center. He said he was too busy for such a discussion.

"I'm trying to get a grant," he said.

According to a letter sent to me and other Friends of the National Zoo (FONZ), the exercise trek will allow elephants to "exercise, forage, and behave much as they would in the wild."

The zoo needs $500 grand to make this dream a reality. And to thank you for your donation of a hundred dollars or more, you won't just be able to see your name in the visitor's center lobby for two years. You won't just get to go to the grand opening of the planned Elephant Barn.

You will also receive some elephant poo. Specifically, you will receive a "one-of-a-kind elephant pin handmade from elephant poo paper." (If you're not feeling charitable, these folks sell poo paper of lesser benefit to local pachyderms.)

Curiously, this premium is not available to those who donate at higher levels.

I remember when thumb wrestling was taken seriously. It was something you played on long car rides, as you waited for a movie to start, etc. It was something you did when you were bored. It was something the slight, the skinny, the uncoordinated could do and still have a legit shot at winning. As I got older, the "game" got more complicated, we'd throw in new moves/new weapons like "The Snake" and "The Turtle." (the Turtle was totally unfair and a game killer; if you played the Turtle move you automatically had to apologize and start the game over--this did not stop us from playing the Turtle at all).

Thumb wrestling isn't a sport. But that doesn't mean it's not sacred. Now, Prince of Petworth is reporting that the Big Hunt is hosting a thumb-wresting tournament for a worthy cause. It's tonight.

I only worry that thumb-wrestling will become the latest game to be played ironically. First kickball. Then ping pong. Is thumb wrestling next?