A consumer’s guide to the best and worst of sports media and merchandise. Ground rules: If it can be read, played, heard, observed, worn, viewed, dialed or downloaded, it’s in play here.

What: Conde Nast Sports For Women.

Price: $2.50.

The radio ad for this magazine sounded intriguing: “It’s not about who’s No. 1 . . . “

So, what is it about, anyway?

The December issue was something like a jigsaw puzzle, except it didn’t quite fit together. If you pick up Newsweek, Field and Stream or Vogue, there is some sense of unity as you flip through the pages.

This publication was part Seventeen, Self, Sports Illustrated and Cosmopolitan, an odd mixture of sass and flash and, surprise, some thought-provoking material.

A few headlines from the cover:

“Energy! Charge Up With Sports, Food, and [Yes] Sex.”

“Why Skiing is Cooler Than Ever.”

“Sailor of the Century, She Blows the Guys Away.”

The success of the women’s softball, soccer and basketball teams at the 1996 Olympics and the marketing success of the WNBA would seem to pave the way for viable sports magazines for women.

This publication may eventually be the answer, but the December issue was not filled with solid, feature profiles, though there was a thorough, investigative look at distance star Mary Slaney.

The content, though, was all over the map--including a five-page article, “Aspen Confidential,” in which two pals try to pick up a rich mogul on and off the slopes.

Three days of an eventually futile effort were more than enough. It was supposed to be a hilarious take on the pick-up scene in Aspen but instead seemed silly.

What’s next? Strawberries, cream and groupies at Wimbledon?

If this is the future of Conde Nast Sports For Women, here’s a suggestion for a new title: Cosmo in Sneakers.