It's time to turn up the sport to dork ratio for this week's entry.  Major bowl games AND the NFL playoffs?  I think I just soiled myself.  No time for talk of Christmas pudding or pictures of naked people on television in this week's entry.  I've spent the last week staying up late into the night and stretching my DVR to its limits just so I could bring you comprehensive analysis of all the of the big games from the last week.  (In reality, I spent the last week staying up late into the night because this cold has me excreting enough mucous to fill up a large swimming pool, which makes it difficult to sleep, but who cares about why I've been up?  The point is, I've been up, and you're the beneficiary.) 

So, get ready to be dazzled by the kind of deep, thoughtful, piercing insight that only The SportDork can provide, as I take you, chronologically, through the all the big games of the last week.  (You may want to settle in.  It's gonna be a long one.)

Capital One Bowl - Michigan 41, Florida 35
If you're a Gator fan, please tell me you weren't surprised by this result.  If you were, then I'm guessing you were also shocked by Roger Clemens' name showing up in the Mitchell Report.  Hello?  The guy's in his forties and he's throwing a 90+ mph fastball.  I'm in my late thirties and I pulled a muscle in my back last week trying to smell my own armpit so I could determine whether it was time for a shower.  You do the math.  If I hadn't already cleared out my SkyBet account, I could have made up for a season's worth of bad Gator hedge bets by going big on this one.  Two high profile seniors, Chad Henne and Mike Hart, healthy at the same time for about the first time this season, playing in their last game and desperately trying to end their careers on a positive note after starting off the season by losing to Appalachian State and Oregon?  This was Michigan's Super Bowl.  Never mind the fact that their one-hundred and ten year-old coach had announced his resignation and was coaching in his final game.  Did you see the end of the game?  THEY CARRIED HIM OFF THE FIELD.  Michigan won the Capital One Bowl, and they carried Lloyd Carr off of the field.  If there was ever a visual to give you an indication of the difference in importance of a bowl game to two teams, that was it.  Just for a second, try and picture two Gator players grabbing Urban Meyer by each leg in order to lift him up and carry him off the field if they had beaten Michigan.  That's rich.  The only thing missing from this one was Rudy running out onto the field to cover kick-offs for the Wolverines. 

As much as I'm sure Urban tried, it was probably tough to convince a team of freshmen and sophomores that this year's trip down to Orlando was just as important as last year's game in Glendale.  One last observation on this one before we move on to the big games - What was up with all the smack-talk?  Somebody needed to tell our defenders to put all the energy they used on yapping toward trying to actually tackle and cover.  The yapping kind of rings hollow when you give up over five hundred yards of offense.

How 'bout those BCS games?  Woooo!!!  Riveting stuff.  Any time I can watch four games in the span of a week where the average margin of victory is twenty points, I'm in.  After the success of this year's BCS, I heard that other collegiate sports like baseball and basketball are going to scrap their current playoff systems and go to a BCS format.  When something works this well, how can you ignore it?

I know what you're thinking - Is it just me, or is The SportDork a little surly today?  Well, I've been fighting this f&^%$ cold for a week now and watching what I would describe as almost unwatchable college football bowl games courtesy of a bunch of idiots who can't figure out how to institute a playoff, so you're damn right I'm surly.  Time to talk some trash.

Rose Bowl - USC 49, Illinois 17
I know, Trojan fans - you guys clearly demonstrated your dominance and showed that you deserved to be in the BCS Championship Game by whipping up on Illinois in the Rose Bowl.  Unfortunately, you did it against The Zooker, so your accomplishment loses all credibility in the eyes of Gator fans - and SEC fans, for that matter.  Sorry.  Congratulations on another championship game-less PAC-10 Championship and another Rose Bowl victory over yet another powerhouse Big 10 squad.

Sugar Bowl - Georgia 41, Hawaii 10
Is it wrong that I took great pleasure in watching Colt Brennan weep like a small child on the sideline after being repeatedly mauled by Georgia's defense?  Thank you, Georgia, for exposing Hawaii for the fraud that it is, and making it painfully clear to the rest of the country that it is useful to consider the strength of an undefeated WAC team's schedule before blindly sending them off to be embarrassed on national television.  Think June Jones has any greater appreciation for Tim Tebow's 32 passing and 23 rushing touchdowns after spending an evening watching his quarterback get beaten like a piñata by Georgia's defenders?  I'll give Jones credit for one thing - he was obviously smart enough to leave town so he won't have to deal with another SEC beatdown at the hands of The Gators next fall.  SMU is the perfect place to hide from any more nationally televised beatings for a while.

Hey - how about those FOX announcers?  Are those guys top-notch or what?  I particularly enjoyed it when, mid way through the third quarter, with Brennan on the sideline receiving physical and psychological treatment for the trauma that had been inflicted, I heard the following gem:  "It's a real shame that Hawaii hasn't been at its best tonight," which was followed shortly thereafter by a "We're not seeing Hawaii at its best tonight."  Really guys?  Is that so?  That wouldn't have anything to do with the team on the other side of the field beating them like a rented mule, would it?  Are you kidding me?  Hawaii gets their asses handed to them by a bigger, faster, stronger, meaner team, and I have to listen to some idiot tell me that "Hawaii hasn't been at its best tonight?"  Here's a question - If Hawaii had come out and hung fifty on Georgia, would the announcers have been talking about what a shame it was that Georgia hadn't been at its best?  Saying Hawaii wasn't at it's best is the equivalent of me going into the ring with Floyd Mayweather, getting knocked out about three seconds into the first round, and the announcers lamenting, "It's a shame that The SportDork wasn't at his best tonight."

Here's a picture that nicely sums up the Dawgs' treatment of the Rainbow Warriors:

Her father must be so proud . . . .

By the way - my favorite moment of the game?  Some time in the second quarter when Georgia had the ball in Hawaii territory, and as they approached the line of scrimmage for a first down play, the announcer said, "And it's a first down for the Gators . . ."

Gator Nation.  It's even in your subconscious.

Fiesta Bowl - West Virginia 48, Oklahoma 28
You know all that stuff I wrote about the Capital One Bowl?  Similar story here.  Bob Stoops has got to be tired of going to the desert to play some team who is completely amped up to be there, while the Sooners are bitter they didn't make it to the title game.  I know West Virginia lost its chance to go to the title game when it choked against Pittsburgh on the last weekend of the season, so it should have been the ones who were disappointed to be there, but this is West Virginia we're talking about.  Their players, coaches and fans were just happy to be out of West Virginia.  Did you see their then-interim, now permanent head coach get carried off the field?  I think I just came up with a new rule for picking bowl games - if winning the game would cause either of the teams playing in the game to carry their coach off the field, take that team.  Again - you think Bob Stoops would have been carried off the field if Oklahoma had won the game?  Not a chance. 

I am, however, slightly concerned that the dry air of the desert has begun to corrode Stoops' mind.  Down 20 - 9 with about six minutes left in the third quarter, OU scores a touchdown to make it 20 - 15.  Inexplicably, they go for two.  Could someone please explain to me why I keep watching coaches go for two with any more than about four minutes left in a game?  Did Stoops think there were six minutes left in the fourth quarter?  I understand that if OU made the two-point conversion, it leaves them down by a field goal, instead of by four, but the whole analysis is totally irrelevant when it's the MIDDLE OF THE THIRD QUARTER!!  When you go for two, you are basically making an assumption that the other team will not score again.  You are holding their score constant and considering how many points you will need, and in turn how many possessions you will need, to catch or surpass their total points.  Going for two when it is reasonable to assume that your opponent will score again defeats its entire purpose, because you have no way to know how many points you will need by the end of the game.  Kick the extra point!!!  Anyway, OU failed to make the two-point conversion, leaving them down 20 - 15, and West Virginia proceeded to score about eight more touchdowns, highlighting the absurdity of OU going for two when they were down 20 - 15.  Going for two wasn't even the worst part, though.  After the unsuccessful two-point conversion, OU then tried an unsuccessful on-sides kick.  I couldn't figure out what the smell was coming from my TV, and then it hit me: it was the smell of desperation.

Orange Bowl - Kansas 24, Virginia Tech 21
First, did you see Don Johnson in the pre-game piece?  "Sonny Crockett was a Gator, but I'm a Jayhawk."  I have to admit, I had no idea that Sonny Crockett was a Gator.  Here's his MySpace page: http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=86287406

Once again, there's no escape from Gator Nation.  Go Gators.

The Orange Bowl really hit its stride when it came to the entertainment.  They started off with Crockett, and then they went straight to American Idol's McPheever singing the national anthem.  But that wasn't enough.  To top it all off, they managed to dig ZZ Top out from whatever rock they've been living under for the last ten years for the halftime show!!  I couldn't figure out what the hell ZZ Top was doing at halftime of a major bowl game, but then I considered which teams were playing and their relative fan bases, and it all became clear.

I also didn't realize that KU's motto this year was "sawing wood."  Is there any way we could be done with the whole wood-themed" mottos?  KU is sawing wood, Rutgers is chopping wood and the Jacksonville Jaguars had an axe and a tree stump in their locker room a couple years ago to symbolize chopping wood.  Enough already, fellas.  Everybody gets it.  I'm a little concerned the next team will come out sporting wood.  Come to think of it, Viagra may want to get in on all those wood-themed inspirational mottos.

Also, could someone please steal the lunch pail that Virginia Tech hauls around with them on the sideline?  Or at least find whoever it is that came up with that ridiculous ploy and beat them over the head with it?  Enough with that sorry excuse for a motivational tool.  I know, guys.  Hard hats and lunch pails.  You're tough and you've got a workmanlike attitude.  Between the lunch pails and the saws and the wood, I can't tell if I'm at a logging competition or a football game. 

Obviously, I found the Kansas/Virginia Tech game riveting.  I will say that I liked Virginia Tech's strategy of having their running quarterback throw and their throwing quarterback run in order throw off the KU defense.  Interesting approach.  Unfortunately, the problem with going against your tendencies in order to keep the opponent guessing is that the reason those are your tendencies is because that's what you're good at, so it wasn't particularly surprising to see Tyrod Taylor throw an interception that was returned for a touchdown.  Way to out-smart 'em, Beamer.  This may have been one of the worst offensively called games that I've ever seen - at least on Virginia Tech's side of the ball.  I sat there watching Virginia Tech running back Branden Ore run for fifteen yards every time he touched the ball, but then they'd call four pass plays after every run, and Sean Glennon would demonstrate why he will never be confused with Dan Marino.  Did Beamer decide that handing off to Ore just wasn't exciting enough?

My favorite moment of this game:  When the announcer explained that the Kansas coaches were concerned if it rained "because [Kansas quarterback] Todd Reesing's hands are not that big."  Ouch.  Way to call the guy out on national television.  Ladies - who wants a date with Todd?

My second favorite moment of the game:  When Barry Alvarez, color-commentator extraordinaire, without prompting, exclaimed, "Branden Ore is hot!"

I think this is the game where I started to get moronic football-announcer analysis overload and went over to the dark side, because as I look at all of my notes from this game and the NFL wildcard games, I see page after page of rantings about one idiotic announcer comment after another.  I had every intention of going through a detailed account of each ridiculous uttering, each flawed observation, each completely incorrect assessment of what just took place on the field of play, but I can't bring myself to do it, and more importantly, I can't put you through that.  Suffice it to say that if I hear one more announcer tell me that I am seeing something on a replay that is not actually occurring, such as, "Right here is where you can see the defender interfering with the wide receiver" as I am watching a replay that clearly shows that the defender never even made contact with the wide receiver, I will be out shopping for a new TV and a new pair of shoes, because the latter will be lodged in the former.  Most of these guys have their heads so far up the NFL's ass that you couldn't get an honest assessment of the accuracy of a penalty if your life depended on it.  They have become so consumed with supporting whatever call was made by the officials that they are now regularly pointing out infractions on replays that never happened in a desperate attempt to support the call on the field. 

In reality, I don't think it's all a matter of the announcers toeing the company line and blindly supporting whatever call was made on the field.  To be fair to the NFL, I think a large part of it is just sheer incompetence on the part of the announcers.  In short, I think half the time that they completely miss something that happened on the field and you're wondering what game they're watching, it's because they're not even watching the game.  In a large percentage of these cases, I'm beginning to think the announcers didn't even see what happened because they've got their heads in their notes and they're trying to figure out what kind of special interest story they can tell about the free safety's brother-in-law and when they can work in a piece about the starting left guard and how he saved his cousin's dog from a meth-lab fire when he was sixteen.  Either that or they're figuring out how many more times they have to mention each of the sponsors and plug Taco Bell's new Crunch Wrap Supreme.  Regardless, they can't be looking at the same screen I'm looking at and say the things they're saying.  It's just not possible - which brings me to the first NFL Wild-Card game:

Seattle 35, Washington 14
Ah, Chris Collinsworth.  Do I have to give a 'Go Gators' here?  Please don't make me.  Here are a couple of my favorites:  It's the first quarter, and after a play they show a close-up of Seattle wide receiver D.J. Hackett.  D.J.'s right eye is closed, and he appears to be in some discomfort.  Collinsworth: "He's grimacing.  It's probably that ankle that he hurt."  Yeah, Chris - he's got his right eye shut because his ankle hurts, not because he got poked in the eye.  About five minutes later, D.J. is seen catching a twenty-yard out pattern with no apparent limp, which is followed by silence from Collinsworth.  And later in the quarter, after Santana Moss clearly drops a pass that should have been caught:  "Give Seattle a little credit for the coverage right now.  I don't think everybody realizes how good they are."  According to Chris, Seattle's coverage is so good that they don't even have to get in the way of the ball.  They cause receivers to drop the ball just by being near them.  And finally, as they're showing a replay of a Clinton Portis run in which he initially stumbles and then a Seattle defender comes in from the side at the end of the run and pummels him, leaving Portis writhing in pain on the ground:  "It looked like on that play he tripped over his own guy and ….. got hurt."  That's it, Chris!!  It was clearly the stumbling over his own guy, not the near lethal blow by the Seattle defender on the side of his knee, that has caused Clinton great pain and misery.  Good catch.

Keep in mind, these are just samples of the genius that was Collinsworth during the Seattle/Washington game.  I have pages more, and they're all just as good.  Not wanting to be outdone, his partner in the booth, Tom Hammond, let us know as the game was winding down that "Todd Hasselbeck was memorable" the last time the Seahawks played the Packers.  Really?  Because I know that Matt Hasselbeck plays for the Seahawks, and he even has a brother named Tim, who is also an NFL quarterback, but I wasn't familiar with the lesser-known Todd Hasselbeck, and I certainly didn't know he played for the Seahawks as well.  Thanks for the insight, Bob!!

I refuse to engage in any substantive analysis of this game, since the Seahawks don't have a shot in hell of making it to the Super Bowl.

Jacksonville 31, Pittsburgh 29
Madden and Michaels.  These two have morphed into a less funny, more annoying version of Abbott and Costello.  They say the great ones step it up in the playoffs, so I was happy to see that these two dialed up the incompetence to an eleven for this one.  Michaels got right to work in the first quarter doing what he does best - mischaracterizing events as they occur on the field, in spite of clear and compelling visual evidence that completely contradicts his account of what happened.  In the first quarter, Pittsburgh tight end Matt Spaeth catches a pass and dives for the end zone.  As he stretches the ball toward the goal line, the ball comes out, and a Jacksonville defender picks it up.  The referees rule that Spaeth's knee was down before the ball came out, blowing the whistle and ruling the play dead.  As the replay is being shown, which gives a great shot of Spaeth's knee hitting the ground before the ball comes out, we hear Michaels say, "take a look at this - the whistle sounded - down he goes.  Is he down?  Ball comes out before he's down."  This is surprising commentary, particularly considering the game I'm watching on my television shows the guy's knee hitting the ground before the ball comes out.  I wait for Madden to chime in and point out to Al that the replay they are showing indicates the exact opposite of what he has described, but I should know better by now.  Madden has already launched into one of his patented long-winded monologues about how its dangerous for guys to try and reach the ball across the goal line, and too many players now-a-days are doing that, and when he was coaching the Raiders in the seventies they had a play just like that once where the guy . . . . , blah, blah, blah.

That gem was followed by a Jacksonville defender jumping to intercept a Roethlisberger pass, falling close to the sideline, and getting up and returning the interception about twenty yards.  The replay showed that when the defender fell to the ground, the only part of his body that went out of bounds was his hair, which is fashioned in some kind of long dreadlock type style and protrudes a good foot out of the back of his helmet.  This sends Dumb and Dumber into a complete tizzy.  They pounce on this unusual occurrence with the ferocity of a lion taking down a wounded gazelle.  Michaels immediately seizes the opportunity to educate millions of Americans about the rules of football and how the hair is part of the uniform and since his hair touched the sideline, he was out of bounds, and Madden is right there with him - the two of them lathered into a complete frenzy over the play while NBC shows thirty-five replays of the hair touching the sideline from fifteen different angles.  Of course, the entire analysis/hoopla surrounding the hair is completely irrelevant, because after the Jacksonville defender makes the interception, his leg makes contact with a Pittsburgh player's leg before he falls to the ground, so he is down by contact before "hair-gate" ever occurs.  This fact is, by the way, clearly reflected on the replay, but Michaels and Madden are so consumed by the whole hair thing that they completely miss this far less-titillating, yet far more relevant aspect of the play in question.  To their credit, however, when the official comes out from the replay booth and indicates that the defender was down by contact and mentions nothing about the hair, it does nothing to take the wind out of their sails.  Madden and Michaels refuse to let the referees and their facts ruin their completely erroneous analysis of the play.  When the replay is shown after the "down by contact" ruling, which clearly shows the leg-to-leg contact, they simultaneously enter a complete state of denial:

Michaels (As they show the leg-to-leg contact): "I don't see where he's down by contact."
Madden:  "I don't see where he's down by contact either."
Michaels (flabbergasted): "He's not down by contact.  But the hair was out of bounds."  (followed by one last shot of the hair touching the sideline, just in case you missed it before.)

Don't give up, fellas.  Don't ever give up.  By the way, here's a picture of the Jacksonville defender, Rashean Mathis, and his sweet 'do:

That one's for my boys Michaels and Madden.

I really didn't think they could get any worse, but as the game went on (which was a great game, by the way, if you could get past the announcing), they kept outdoing themselves.

With Jacksonville up 28-17 with 10:29 left in the fourth quarter, the Steelers have a second and ten from about the Jaguars' fifteen yard line.  Roethlisberger throws a short pass in the left flat to running back Najeh Davenport, who has come out of the backfield, but Davenport is unable to make the catch.  The play seems uneventful enough - hardly appears to be a game-changer, but for some reason Madden is prompted to give us some of his expert analysis.  As they show the replay, Madden proclaims, "Out to the left, the Jags had nothing, so if Najeh Davenport catches that, it's going to be a big play."  This would be an astute observation were it not for the fact that while Madden is saying this, the replay is showing a Jacksonville linebacker picking up coverage of Davenport as he comes out of the backfield, ready to tackle him if he makes the catch for about a five-yard gain.  Apparently the presence of the defender in the replay is irrelevant to Madden's analysis, as he makes no amendment to his "big play" claim in spite of the visual evidence to the contrary.  At this point, just to be sure the cough medicine hasn't caused me to enter a state of delirium, I hit rewind, and I call over Mrs. SportDork.

Me:  "Honey, I want you to watch this play and tell me what you see."
Mrs. SportDork:  "Do I have to?"
Me:  "Yes.  Do it for the SportDork Nation."
Mrs. SportDork:  "Well, if it's for the SportDork Nation, I'll do it.  I love the SportDork Nation."
Me:  "Ok - what do you see?"
Mrs. SportDork:  "I see some guy dropping a pass that wouldn't have mattered anyway because there are like two guys standing there ready to tackle him if he catches it.  What's that guy on TV talking about?  If that was going to be a big play, I'd hate to see a short gain."
Me:  "I love you."
Mrs. SportDork:  "Are you going to shower today?"

Little did I know, Madden was saving his best for last.  With Pittsburgh down 28-23 with 7:35 left in the fourth quarter and a first and goal, Hines Ward makes a catch at the one-yard-line and is tackled by former Gator Reggie Nelson (Go Gators).  I should probably take back that 'Go Gators', because after Reggie takes down Ward by the legs, he proceeds to continue twisting Hines' left leg at what can only be described as an unnatural angle.  As you can imagine, Hines' takes exception to this behavior, so when he gets back to his feet, now limping slightly, he approaches Nelson and begins yelling at him, presumably letting Reggie know that he doesn't appreciate him trying to end Hines' night by removing his lower leg and taking it back to the sideline with him.  Even though the whole series of events is captured very clearly in real time, Michaels and Madden make no mention of the dirty play by Nelson, presumably because neither saw it.  Michaels' only comment is that Ward jumped up after the play and started exchanging words with Nelson, but it's clear that neither one of the two geniuses in the booth has any idea why.  NBC then gives us the benefit of seeing it all over again in the replay, and as the replay is showing the leg twist and the subsequent exchange between the players, which again apparently neither Michaels or Madden is actually watching, Madden chimes in with this beauty:  "Hines is a great competitor, and he knows better [when it comes to talking trash], but he's not going to let anyone show him up, either."

That's right, John.  This was about two players talking trash and Reggie Nelson trying to show up Hines Ward.  You nailed it.  It had nothing to do with the fact that Nelson tried to remove one of Ward's limbs after the play was over.  You see that thing to your right with all the pretty colors?  It's called a monitor.  You might want to look at it every once in a while.  It's helpful for understanding what's happening in the game that you're getting paid millions to announce.

As for the game - I think I've made my position on going for two pretty clear (see "Stoops, Bob" above), but how about Pittsburgh scoring a touchdown to shave Jacksonville's lead to 28-23 with 10:25 left in the fourth quarter and Mike Tomlin deciding to go for two?  According to this article (http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2008/football/nfl/wires/01/07/2000.ap.fbn.steelers.play.calls.0794/index.html), Tomlin relied on a chart that tells coaches when to go for two and when to kick the extra point.  Awesome.  It's comforting to know that guys who are getting paid millions of dollars to coach professional football teams need a piece of paper to tell them when to make critical decisions during the game.  Does he have another one that tells him when to pass and when to run?  How about one that tells him when to use the bathroom?  It was such sweet justice to watch the Steelers fail on that two point conversion and then intercept David Garrard and score again four minutes later to go up 29-28 and be forced to go for two again because of the first boneheaded two-point attempt, only to miss that one as well.  Watching Jacksonville then kick the game-winning field goal with time expiring, a field goal that would have been a game-tying field goal if Tomlin had understood that The Chart doesn't exist in a vacuum, reminded me that there are indeed consequences to making idiotic decisions. 

What Tomlin really needed, instead of The Chart, was John Madden, the master of in-game strategy, with him on the sideline.  As Pittsburgh lined up to go for it on fourth and goal from Jacksonville's one-yard line, down 28-23 in the fourth quarter with 6:21 left in the game, Madden announced, "I don't know that I agree with this.  I think I would kick the field goal."  Great call, John.  You're on the one-yard line, down by five in the fourth quarter, at home, with the season on the line, about six minutes left, and you'd send in the field goal unit.  Gutsy call.  I can only imagine the confidence it would inspire in your team to let them know that you don't think they can punch it in from the one-yard line to take the lead.  Truly inspirational.

N.Y. Giants 24, Tampa Bay 14
Eli Manning and the N.Y. Giants continue to baffle me.  As long as they stay alive in the playoffs, I will continue to miss at least one game in my NFL pool each week.  I have no idea when they are going to show up, and when they are going to drop a big turd on the fifty yard line.  I'll be honest with you - I didn't pay much attention to this game or the announcers, in part because I can't watch Eli for an extended period of time or I break out in hives, and in part because I was still recovering from three-plus hours of Madden and Michaels the night before.

I will share two observations from this boring contest.  First, you gotta love Bucs wide receiver Joey Galloway.  From one prematurely-graying guy to another, it's nice to see a guy with all that gray still getting it done.  Way to keep it real, Joey.  You are a source of great inspiration.  Here's my man:

Second, when I took Tampa in my NFL pool, I forgot that a January game in Tampa for the Giants would be akin to a warm-weather home game.  I think there were more New Yorkers in that stadium than they get in the Meadowlands for home games.

San Diego 17, Tennessee 6
For a little while there, I thought the Chargers might choke up another playoff game, and I was pretty excited to watch it happen.  The fact that the Titans were up 6 - 0 at halftime speaks volumes to the difference in coaching ability between Jeff Fisher and Norv Turner.  Then the Bolts pulled their heads out and pulled away in the second half. 

I have a hypothesis that I want to throw out there.  I think Chargers quarterback Philip Rivers may be a complete ass.  I don't have conclusive supporting evidence yet, but I feel like I've got enough to start pushing the theory.  Every time I've watched the Chargers this year, I've seen him acting like a hot-head and screaming at his teammates on the field any time things don't go right.  Then a few weeks ago I saw him standing on the sideline yelling at Jay Cutler when they were playing (and beating) the Broncos, and it started to become clear - this guy very well may be a d*ck!   Keep an eye on him this weekend when things start to fall apart against the Colts - I really think I'm on to something here.

The All-State/Taco Bell/GEICO/Dr. Pepper/Enterprise/FedEx BCS Championship Game
LSU 38, Ohio State 24
First, kudos to Chris Fowler for opening the ESPN GameDay telecast by saying that this game didn't have a real #1 vs. #2 feel to it because nobody really knows whether LSU and Ohio State are the two best teams in the country.  Nice to hear an announcer have the guts to call a spade a spade.  Also, great Gator highlights at the start of the broadcast for the FedEx Air & Ground Award.  And then, to top it off, Urban Meyer's on the set with the boys from FOX!!  How pissed were all the other SEC fans when they saw Urban up there?  There's no escape from Gator Nation!  It's everywhere!! WoooooooHoooooo!!!

This game wasn't very tough to pick, particularly when you consider the 'strength' of LSU's fan base:

During player introductions, I was stunned to see how many OSU players were "All Big-Ten."  I think that might be a little misleading, though.  I mean, it sounds impressive at first glance, but with the current state of the Big Ten, isn't getting named "All Big-Ten" a little like getting named Employee of the Month at Jack-In-The-Box?

Charles Davis and Thom Brennaman, two of FOX's finest, called the game, along with the most annoying man in sports television, Chris Myers, who was down on the sideline.  They were a substantial upgrade from Madden and Myers, but they still provided a few choice sound bites.

After LSU's running back Jacob Hester peeled off a nice run, Davis threw in the now all-too-common Caucasian running back refrain, "He's a hard-nosed runner with very deceptive speed."  Hey Charles - I'm confused.  Why is it exactly that Hester's speed is so deceptive?  What is it about him that makes his speed deceptive?  Does he "look" slow?  And if so, what is it about him that makes him "look" slow?  Is it his body type?  Because he doesn’t look a whole lot different than the other running backs.  Oh wait - that's right - he's white!!  If the telecast had come with subtitles, I'm fairly confident that Davis' comment would have been displayed as "Hester's a white guy, so you wouldn't expect him to be very fast, but believe it or not, he is!" 

When LSU safety Craig Steltz went out of the game with a stinger, I had fun counting how many times Chris Myers referred to him as "Eric Steltz."  For those of you playing along at home, it was two before someone at FOX got a hold of him and asked him to refer to the players by the correct first name.  Interestingly, Craig has a brother named Kevin, but not one named Eric.  It was at this point that I flashed back to the Seahawks/Hasselbeck fiasco, and I took another shot of cough syrup. 

I think Myers must have been subconsciously thinking of Eric Stoltz, from the movie 'Mask':

I wasn't a huge fan of Mask, but I did like him in Pulp Fiction.

What a yawner that game was.  When OSU went up 10 - 0 and then LSU scored twenty-four unanswered points to end the first half, I thought I was watching last year's game all over again.  I was happy to see that OSU won the
halftime alumni kicking competition.  It's nice to see them have something to build on for next year.

Mid-way through the third quarter, I was soaking up another SEC beat-down of a Big Ten team in college football's biggest game, when I was ripped from my euphoric state by this comment from Brennaman.  "This is a young Ohio State team.  They could very well be right back here next year." 

Please God, make it stop.  You're telling me there's a chance that I'm going to have to watch a team that has become the Buffalo Bills of college athletics play in this game again next year?  I don't know if I can take it.  Don't get me wrong - I enjoy watching an SEC team exert its dominance over an out-matched, inferior team in the final game of the season.  But more Ohio State?  How many times do they have to lose the final before they go away?

Brennaman's comment led to a discussion about how there has been so much "venom" directed toward Ohio State this year, and in particular leading up the bowl game.  Brennaman and Davis sounded truly perplexed as to why this was the case.  Well guys, allow me to shed a little light on the source of the venom.  There's venom toward Ohio State because people are tired of watching a team who spends the entire year playing inferior opponents as they skate toward an undefeated or one-loss season get pummeled by a battle-tested, superior team in the championship game.  They're also tired of watching lopsided championship games that result from a system that sends a team like OSU to the title game two years in a row and results in a barely watchable final game of the season.  Finally, they're tired because they're putting up with all of this when there is a perfectly viable alternative waiting in the wings that would solve the problem, but the conference commissioners, college presidents, bowl committees and networks refuse to do what's in the best interest of the sport in order to protect their own self-interests.

Oh well.  Until they get it figured out, the beatings will continue.  Here's a great shot of LSU fans enjoying the impending victory at the expense of some OSU faithful:





I just can't, for the life of me, figure out why the rest of the country thinks SEC fans are obnoxious.