In addition to the lists of Best Episodes, Best Interrogations and Best Nude Scenes, here are some other classic scenes from the last 12 years.

• 4-B dies (in "True Confessions"): A year before he started moping around as Ross on Friends, David Schwimmer played the first great tragic character on "Blue," Josh "4-B" Goldstein, a nerdy lawyer who lived in Laura Kelly's apartment building and went off the rails after getting mugged in the laundry room. John Kelly kept trying to get 4-B to let it go, but the poor guy went Bernie Goethz, shooting his attacker, then getting killed while trying to bust up a subway robbery. His sad, lonely death scene (and the following scene, where John gets up to call the kid's parents) in the fourth episode was when I fell in love with the show.
• Graveyard melody (in "Emission Accomplished"): Kelly's old friend Kevin Sullivan, an outcast since he ratted on his crooked partner as a rookie, is the best bagpiper in the department, but nobody wants to let him in the Emerald Society, so he plays his pipes in a Queens cemetery. The shot of him piping into a setting East River sun is just about the prettiest thing the show ever did, and a reminder of what the show lost when Bochco started cutting back on the New York location filming. (And, yeah, this one is in the Best Episodes list, but it's so great I'll mention it over and over and over again.)
• NYPD Brow (in "Tempest in a C-Cup"): Andy, desperate for a conversation-starter on his first date with Sylvia, says, "I like fish," which prompts Sylvia to ask why he ordered chicken. Then he explains about his saltwater tropicals, and she talks about how she likes to watch him mop his brow as he eats. Not the passionate start of a Kelly/Licalsi or Simone/Russell romance, but more fun.
• Detective Martinez (in "Up on the Roof"): The writers never knew what to do with him afterwards, but James' shining moment came at the close of his first solo case as a detective. The perp is a condescending asshole who insists on calling him "Pedro," and when the guy lawyers up, James leans in, John Kelly-style, and explains that they'll get a conviction (and a tougher sentence) without a statement. "When you get a chance, write me a letter. Tell me what your cellmate's like. Tell me what it feels like to have a subway right up your ass. And my name's James, you little pisspot, and now I'm going to get you your lawyer."
• Janice gives it up (in "Guns 'N Rosaries"): In the Best Episodes list, I talk about the amazing final two scenes, but just as great is Janice's confession of the Marino murder to Father Downey, one of the longest, most patient, best sequences the show ever did (and certainly Amy Brenneman's finest hour as an actress).
• Bucci family reunion (in "Rockin' Robin"): An earlier first season episode had established that Andy was friends with Dom Bucci, a decent man whose daughter Jenny went missing years ago, with no solution. As a big attaboy to reward Andy for all the progress he'd made in one year, Milch decided to let Andy not only solve the Bucci case, but discover that Jenny was still alive and well. The shot of tiny Jenny emerging from behind Sipowicz to face her overwhelmed father still makes me misty-eyed every time.
• Bobby's badge (in "The Final Adjustment"): In Simone's earliest story arc, he tried to prevent the son of one of his dead wife's friends from becoming a juvenile delinquent, going so far at one point to threaten the tough older kids who were recruiting the boy. To make sure they got the point, Bobby pressed his badge into the forehead of the leader (a young Giovanni Ribisi) and suggested he look in the mirror if he wanted to know whom to file a complaint about. The first sign of Bobby's rare but welcome mean streak.
• "Duke of Earl" (in "Large Mouth Bass"): This one is Franz and Smits' favorite scene, and for good reason. Simone, glowing after having sex for the first time since his wife died, is blasting the car radio on a stakeout and starts singing along to "Duke of Earl." At first, Andy is annoyed, but he eventually joins in on the chorus, then clams up when two night shift cops (including Bill Clark) pull up to relieve them. The moment where the Sip/Simone partnership went from good to great.
• You could look it up (in "Innuendo"): Season two was big on dictionaries, between a serial killer called Webster and this priceless scene where John Irvin (then just filling in for Donna) gets fed up with Andy's condescending homophobia and leaves a dictionary on Andy's desk to explain the difference between "prostate" and "prostrate," which Sip had been using interchangeably. The language lesson never took, but this was the moment where the writers and fans realized this John guy could be more than just a temp.
• God and dog (in "The Bookie and the Kooky Cookie"): Necessity as the mother of invention: This episode was coming in short, so David Milch asked Bill Clark to describe the worst thing he ever saw as a cop. Clark told him the story of an abusive dad who beat his baby to death and then fed the corpse to his dog; Milch put the story into Sipowicz's mouth, as he explained to Sylvia why he doesn't have faith in God -- "But I got faith in you."
• Bye, Andy Jr. (in "Auntie Maimed"): I could make an entire list out of scenes from "A Death in the Family" and "Closing Time," the astonishing two-parter dealing with Andy Jr.'s murder and Andy's second fall off the wagon, so I'll instead pick the last time we see Andy Jr. among the living. Sylvia has just given birth to Theo, so Andy steps out to remind Andy Jr. that while he'll be spending more time with the baby, doesn't mean he loves his older son any less. It was the culmination of a three year story about the rebuilding of their relationship, and because ABC had been running so many ads promising a major death in the next episode, it was obviously a harbinger of something bad for the Sipowicz clan. In retrospect, it may be more painful to watch than the "Death in the Family" scene where Andy finds Andy Jr.'s body.
• Black and blue (in "Closing Time"): Okay, so one scene from "Closing Time" (one of the two best episodes ever, along with "Guns 'N Rosaries"): Andy, having gotten the crap kicked out of him while drunkenly trying to clear a corner in Andy Jr.'s memory, sits in the emergency room, his ribs taped, his every movement agony, his partner glaring at him. Until now, he's done everything possible to shut his loved ones out and Bobby is about out of patience with the self-destructive act. "Do you want people to help you, Andy?" Bobby asks, making one last attempt to reach out. Andy pauses -- a part of him still needs to be punished for what he feels is his role in Andy Jr.'s heroic death -- then says, "Please help me, yeah," and begins his return to the land of the living.
• Happy Greg (in "He's Not Guilty, He's My Brother"): In a development that never got followed up on, Medavoy briefly found peace and contentment at the end of the third season, having accepted Donna's departure and found a small apartment in Brooklyn (he spent most of that season sleeping in the Anti-Crime crib, so this was a step up). Hilarious as Gordon Clapp usually was playing up Greg's stammer and neuroses, this view of an upbeat Greg bragging "I've been remarkably allergy-free" was just as funny, if not moreso.
• Mickey'd Mouse (in "Unembraceable You"): The Jimmy Liery arc from season four fizzled out at the end -- Milch actually killed the guy off-screen -- but the scene where he drugged an undercover Diane (posing as "Mouse") and carried her off into the night, apparently to have his way with her, was easily the best of the show's infrequent cliffhangers.
• These boots are made for looking (in "Tom and Geri"): Kirkendall rarely got her own storylines, and when she did, they were usually awful (the whole thing with her ex-husband ruined her). So if you were a fan of the character like I was, you had to take pleasure in the little moments that showed off her cool demeanor, like this bit where she and Diane arrive at a crime scene where a man in S&M bondage drag has been hung to death. As they're walking out, Jill turns to Diane and says, "Slap me for saying those boots look kind of cool."
• Traffic jam (in "Taillight's Last Gleaming"): One of the best (and unfortunately few) Fancy showcases: racist Officer Szymanski pulls Art and Lillian over and humiliates them for the "crime" of Driving While Black. Too bad it got upstaged by appearing in the same episode where Andy met Jesus Christ. (If you don't remember it, I kid you not.)
• Wet and walking (in "I Don't Wanna Dye," "Prostrate Before the Law" and "Hammer Time"): Three great scenes from the arc where Andy had cancer in his "prostrate": 1)Andy's nightmarish allergic reaction to the radioactive dye for the CT scan; 2)Sylvia and the nurses helping Andy take some verrrrrry small and slow steps after his surgery; 3)Andy wetting his pants in the middle of an interrogation, then having to borrow a pair of Medavoy's (which somehow fit) to get through the day. If David Milch ever wanted to write a hospital show, it'd be damn good, I think.
• Get me a 12-pack, please (in "Along Came Jones"): Near the end of Baldwin's first episode, Greg walks in on his new partner getting dressed for a run. Medavoy's quadruple-take at the sight of Henry Simmons' torso is one of Gordon Clapp's best reaction shots in the 12-year run.
• Voodoo child (in "Everybody Plays the Mule"): Baldwin, Andy and Danny are working a case involving two missing Russian children. The chief suspect is their father, a raving lunatic who keeps going on about "black devils." Andy, still trying to feel his way around his new co-worker's sensibilities, tentatively suggests that Baldwin play into the guy's deranged fantasies. Baldwin doesn't want to do it, but he also doesn't want to lose the case, so he walks in and somehow makes himself seem even bigger than usual. When the man boasts about how he protects his children from these devils, Baldwin leans in, glares and, sounding like a cross between Geoffrey Holder and Darth Vader, says, "Give them to me." Guy folds in half a second and admits he killed the kids.
• Everybody fights Raymond (in "A Little Dad'll Do Ya"): The show rarely bothered with fight scenes, with the most memorable from the early seasons being John Kelly's one-punch takedown of Steroid Roy. So it was both surprising and impressive to see the squadroom nearly trashed by brawling behemoth Ray Morrison, the fight drawn to a halt only by pint-sized Connie whacking the 6'7", 285-pound Ray over the head with a fire extinguisher.
• Chicken shit! (in "Low Blow"): One of the happiest accidents the show ever had. The precinct uniforms are heckling John Clark over his upcoming boxing match with Ed Laughlin, accusing him of being a chicken. At one point, John pokes his head into the coffee room to find a living, breathing, clucking -- and shitting -- chicken. The live bird poop was unplanned (as Mark Tinker says, who could make a chicken crap on cue?), and Mark-Paul Gosselaar just about lost it on camera. Still, the reaction that survived editing is a howler.
• And here's to you, Mrs. Sipowicz (in "Nude Awakening"): I didn't have room to mention it in the Best Nude Scenes list for The Star-Ledger, so I'll slip it in here: Theo walking in on a stark-naked Connie in the Sipowicz family bathroom was arguably the show's most explicit nude scene (even with her hands trying to cover the naughty bits, I think we saw more of Charlotte than we ever saw of Kim or Amy or anyone else), and the funniest since Sylvia joined Andy in the shower.
• For the bird (in "Colonel Knowledge"): The comic highlight of Eddie Gibson's abbreviated stint as squad boss: Andy, fed up with listening to Gibson's parrot The Colonel, enlists the help of a TARU tech to play the bird an endless loop of Andy saying "Douchebag."
• Bale lays down the law (in "Dress for Success"): At the end of his first shift, Lt. Bale stands in front of the squad and calmly tells them that he's been ordered to clean up this "rogue squad" by any means necessary, and if the detectives don't get with the program, they'll be gone. The writers eventually wimped out on letting Bale carry out Operation: Tightass (or whatever the bosses called it), but that doesn't diminish what a spectacular introduction that was for the character and for Currie Graham.
• Congratulations? (in "Stoli with a Twist"): Even with eight episodes to go in a 12-year run, Dennis Franz found new ways to surprise. After being informed by Lt. Bale that he had passed the sergeant's exam, a stunned Andy returns to his desk and looks around the empty squadroom, flashing back on everything he's been through in this assignment while contemplating a life without it. Nothing is said, and everything is. As good a bit of silent acting as you'll ever see.

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