Super Bowl 45: Our experts pick the winners

It used to about the game and only the game. Football. Nothing more and nothing less. Oh sure, there was lots of hype, but it was different. It had to do with football as opposed to show.

Now don’t get us wrong. We love a circus as much as the next red-blooded, American football fan. Actually, we prefer the circus to everything else. Who doesn’t love a good party?

Parties are one thing, but the hassle…

It’s enough to stage a revolution or something.

Right?

My favorite thing about the Super Bowl are the folks who are so against the concept of sitting around the TV, planning elaborate menus and calling out of work that they plan alternative events at places like Hallmark stores or the local Borders’. They call it the anti-Super Bowl as if a boycott needs to be staged against commercialization of football and/or pop culture.

Really? Boycott? A football game?

Now I’m for boycotting things as much as the next guy. In fact, there are tons of companies and products I won’t go near for one reason or another, which surely has the execs of those corporations sitting up at night wondering how they failed to connect with me. All I can say to that is, “Sorry guys. It’s not personal, just business.”

If there is a mass boycott or protest going down, I pay attention because doing things like that takes effort and a wise use of time – two things I admire deeply. Hell, anyone can buy ad time and make commercials. And everyone wants to tell you how great they are. Big whoop. As long as there is no marching, chanting or placards, I say, “Let’s boycott!”

Consumers of the world unite!

But boycotting the Super Bowl is kind of like cancelling Christmas because it’s too commercial. Yes, we all know that big-time events like the Super Bowl are far from pure and that the hype supersedes the actual event with a circus filled with commercials, product placement, “celebrities,” and Christina Aguilera, but really, hasn’t that ship already sailed? Should they just play the game and then phone the results into the paper?  With all that TV air time already purchased?

It’s all so very comical. It’s one thing for the tea houses and chain book stores to hold their anti-Super Bowl parties for non-sports fans because generally (and yes, it’s very general) those folks are anti-anti. They believe that if something is created for a mass audience then it stinks, and in most cases they are correct though that theory usually only applies to Michael Bolton.

If they really dislike the Super Bowl so much and want to go to their anti-party, why acknowledge that it even exists? Do they wake up and say, “Oh boy, here we are on Super Bowl Sunday. Time for my protest at the corporately-owned book store that helped put the little shop on the corner downtown out of business. Let’s show those football fans!”

Silliness. Just silly.

Still, I read my favorite Super Bowl story a couple of years ago about musicians Flea and John Frusciante when went to a small venue in Los Angeles to see punk stalwart Ian MacKaye play with his band, The Evens. Now for those unfamiliar with The Evens, it is a band comprised of MacKaye and his wife, Amy Farina. MacKaye plays a baritone guitar and Amy plays the drums all while operating the P.A. right there on the stage. They also play “non-traditional” music venues, which means no bars/clubs or arenas. Because of this Ian and Amy hit the road with very little overhead, no support staff and the result is low ticket prices and unadulterated music. No hype, no fuss, no circus.

Just music.

Of course that’s kind of the opposite of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, the band Flea and Frusciante used to play for. That’s not a judgment about that band, it’s just the fact. Regardless, rather than watch the Super Bowl, Flea and Frusciante showed up at the gig to help serve as a roadie crew for The Evens. Inevitably, a reporter asks Flea (a well-known sports fan) if he’s disappointed about missing the big game, and the answer is perfect.

“Who cares about a ball game if Ian’s in town playing his music?” he said.

No frills, no hype, no circus. That’s what it always comes down to…

JOHN FINGER

Writer/storyteller, CSNPhilly.com

And that’s why I’m going with the Steelers in Super Bowl 45. Oh, I won’t be rooting for Pittsburgh (or Green Bay, for that matter). It’s just that the Steelers play an enjoyable style of football because they rush the ball and they convert third-down plays. Not only that, but the Steelers stop the opposition from running the ball effectively. See, the Steelers’ brass understands that in order to win games a team must run it. Therefore, they run it and stop the other team from doing so.

It’s that simple. No frills, no hype, no circus.

In the meantime, I apologize for the dearth of Ben Roethlisberger and Brett Favre wisecracks. I let you down. Sorry.

Steelers 31, Packers 24

***

ROB KUESTNER

Assistant news director, Comcast SportsNet

I like the Eagles. Oh wait. They lost… 

Green Bay wins this game relatively easily. Their passing offense is lethal indoors. We all saw what Mark Sanchez and Santonio Holmes did to the Steelers defense in the AFC title game when they decided to pass. I can only imagine what Aaron Rodgers and Greg Jennings will do. Big Ben is a problem for any defense, but not this Green Bay defense which is fast and powerful. BJ Raji is going to have a field day and be unblockable against the Steelers backup center. Plus, Charles Woodson will reach into his bag of tricks for one last magical effort on football's biggest stage and make something special happen. Green Bay has too many weapons. The Steelers are a little too banged up and Green Bay wins.

Plus, I can't stomach Pittsburgh winning a 7th Super Bowl title when the Eagles are still sitting on 0. Send the Lombardi Trophy back to Titletown. Green Bay wins. 

Packers 31, Steelers 21

***

MIKE WANN

Artist

I developed a system for predicting future happenings based upon current events.  I have used it for lotto and OTB selections, so picking the super bowl winner is a piece of cake.  

Let me walk you through it:

The Steelers are from Pittsburgh.  Pittsburgh is right around the corner from West Virginia.  As any competent linguist or anthropologist will tell you, there really is no difference between West Virginia and Arkansas - they are basically interchangeable.  Therefore the Steelers are represented as 5000 blackbirds falling dead from the sky.

The packers come from Wisconsin, home of cheese and cheeseheads.  This country is in the midst of a lactose-intolerance epidemic.  Lactose-intolerance plus cheese equal gas and lots of it.  Gasoline comes from oil and we get our oil from the middle east.  The packers can be seen as the thousands of Egyptian protesters.  

So now we combine the two:  what would happen if protesters and looters are inundated by thousands of falling birds?  

By now the answer should be obvious:  

Steelers 20, Packers 12

***

JOHN GONZALEZ

Columnist, Philadelphia Inquirer

Forget about football. This game is about Democracy and thwarting Ben Roethlisberger. If Pittsburgh wins, CIA analysts fear The Gray Penis will grow in power and try to have itself installed as a dictator somewhere, possibly in Egypt. No one wants that.

Packers 24, Western PA Creep Show 21

***

BOB FORD

Columnist, Philadelphia Inquirer

I don't see how the Packers have a chance. Their quarterback ain't never raped nobody, ain't never 'lectrocuted no dogs. As we say in the hood, "You can't be defended if you been suspended." Near as I can tell, this Aaron Rodgers fella won't even smack the puppy's behind if he pees on the rug. What kind of leader is that, I ask you?

Rapists 34, Puppykissers 17

***

TODD ZOLECKI

Phillies writer, MLB.com

Considering I spent my life savings to land a couple tickets to Super Bowl XLV, the Packers better win. I’ll seriously cry if they don't.

Packers 31, Steelers 28

***

MATT GELB

Phillies beat writer, Philadelphia Inquirer

We like the Packers, and not just because I inherited a cheesehead someone carelessly discarded into a snow bank on South Street last weekend. One of my earliest Super Bowl memories is XXXI. My parents took my little brother and me to Disney World for a vacation. Desmond Howard's punt return was so captivating to a 9-year old.

Have I made you feel old yet? Good.

Packers 23, Steelers 17

***

LEE RUSSAKOFF

Senior Sports Editor/Columnist, Comcast.net

Break out your hair mousse and rape whistles ... it's Steelers-Packers for all the DTF women in Georgia. I'm going with Pittsburgh and here's why: I took a page from Ray Didinger and broke down the key matchup. After watching hours of videotape with Brian Baldinger, I've come to the only logical conclusion: Peter King (who picked Steelers 33, Packers 27 in September) thought he was pulling a fast one on the Mayan sorcerer by trading his eternal soul for all future Super Bowl results during his lifetime. Little does King know, the world will end sometime next year, making his "eternal soul" trade look Ryne-Sandberg-for-Ivan-DeJesus silly. 

Bad for Peter, great for Pittsburgh.

Steelers 33, Packers 27

 ***

SARAH BAICKER

Reporter/producer, CSNPhilly.com

Aaron Rodgers scares me more than Ben Roethlisberger, which is saying something, considering I'm female...

I even have evidence (no, uh, not the kind that involves collecting DNA). I'm talking about the Packers' six road losses. In the loss to Detroit, Rodgers was hurt in the game's first half. Against New England, he didn't even play. When the Pack fell to Washington, they were heavily injury ridden. And Atlanta and Chicago? Well, they were the NFC's No. 1 and No. 2 seeds, and neither is playing in the Super Bowl.

Yeah, I know, the Steelers have proven they can bring home the prize. But I'm gonna stick with my gut here, and go with the team in green. What can I say, I'm conditioned.

Packers 31, Steelers 27

***

MIKE MEECH

Proprietor, The Fightins

This is a toughy.

It's not often when you get two squads playing in the Super Bowl who are as evenly matched as this year's Packers and Steelers. And if you want me to be completely honest, I have no idea who's gonna win (nor do I particularly care). BUT, I was asked to give a prediction and I plan on wagering on the game anyway, so here goes:

With Maurkice Pouncey (the Steelers rookie Pro Bowl center) still walking around in a boot nursing a high ankle sprain, Pittsburgh will be most likely sending out a right guard named Doug Legursky to start the game as the lucky fella to have Ben Roethlisberger's hands between his legs for four quarters. Now, I'm no football genius, but the center/QB combo is fairly important considering they are the only two guys guaranteed to touch the ball every offensive play. Tossing a new guy into that situation in the biggest game of the season sounds a bit risky. 

Don't believe me? Ask Rich Gannon, who got sacked five times and even fumbled a center/QB exchange after *his* All-Pro center Barret Robbins went AWOL in the days leading up to SBXXXVII and missed the game. That didn't end too well for the Raiders, and I'm expecting a somewhat similar result for the Steelers.

I guess what I'm trying to say is, without his normal bodyguard to stand in front of him to let him do what he pleases, Ben's gonna have to fend for himself this time. KARMIC PAYBACK!

Packers 28, Steelers 23

***

DENNIS DEITCH

Sixers beat writer, Delco Times

Let me preface this by stating that I have the ultimate respect for those who set the odds for sporting events. It is a true science, slathered in mathematics. This writing business was a total accident for me. If I wasn’t such a serial screw-up I’d be flying into hurricanes, recording meteorological information.

Instead I’m writing poop jokes on Twitter. Well, I might be doing that either way.

Where were we? Oh yeah: Oddsmaking. It isn’t often that I see the boys in Vegas burp out a number that makes absolutely no sense to me. But this Super Bowl line, in my opinion, is insane.

When the conference championship games came to a close, I was certain that the Steelers would be a favorite – certain. I figured Pittsburgh would be at least a 3-point favorite, and probably a 3.5-point fave so to create some action on the Packers.

Instead, the Packers opened as a 2.5-point favorite, and it has stayed on that number. And I don’t get it.

The Steelers are loaded with Super Bowl experience. They were the No. 2 seed in the AFC – the better conference this season, mind you – despite being without QB Ben Roethisberger (a top-five QB in this league, regardless of where you think he inappropriately placed his junk) for the first four games and sans Troy Polamalu – the NFL’s defensive player of the year – for two games and nicked up pretty badly for a few others. They won 14 of 18 games despite all that. They have had two weeks to heal all the nicks.  

The Steelers run the ball viciously, and the Packers don’t stop the run much at all. The Packers are definitely ball hawks – 24 interceptions – but the Steelers will run, run, run, and when they throw, Big Ben doesn’t give you much to take away (just 5 INTs in 389 passing attempts in the regular season). The Jets had the third-stingiest run defense in the NFL in the regular season, and Rashard Mendenhall tore through them like no one’s business.

I know, this is a game in a dome, on a fast track. It doesn’t matter to the Steelers. There are enough Super Bowl rings on the fingers of their players that they know not to let the conditions dictate what they do.

Seven of the last nine underdogs have covered in the Super Bowl, with five of them winning outright. This is a gift, a layup, a gimme. Unless something truly tragic happens to the Steelers in this game, they are going to win and they will do it without much of an issue.

Call it:

Steelers 34, Packers 17

***

ANDY SCHWARTZ

Managing editor, CSNPhilly.com

Packers president Mark Murphy went to Colgate. So did I.

 Packers 85, Steelers 2

***

RYAN LAWRENCE

Phillies beat writer, Delco Times

So I can count how many NFL games I watched this year on one hand. (Wait, can I count that high? Can NFL players?) So the following pick is for entertainment purposes only; please don't spend all your potential dogfighting moneys on betting on "the big game" based on my pick. Breaking it down: Green Bay. I think they've got Favre. I see him on TV a lot, so he must be good. Pittsburgh. They still have the guy who crashes motorcycles and rapes young coeds, right? That doesn't sound like someone I would count on being sober/healthy/not-in-jail. So here we go:

Fightin' Zoleckis 31, Drunken Randarinos, 20 

***

The warm-up act

The early reports indicate that Super Bowl 44 was thehighest rated version of the game ever. If that’s the case, it will surpass the 1982 Super Bowl, which was seen in 49 percent of U.S. households for a 73 percent share, the Saints-Colts game could rank up there with the most-watched TV events ever.

There’s the last M.A.S.H., the “Who Shot J.R.?” Dallas episode, Roots and probably Super Bowl 44.

Perhaps adding to the allure of watching the game was the proliferation of social media, the Internet and all that stuff. These days a guy can have a Super Bowl party with all his friends and followers without traveling anywhere. And based on how the roads look after the big snowstorm that walloped us, we weren’t getting too far anyway.

Besides, who wants to be in the same room with half of those people anyway… I keed, I keed.

Anyway, back in my day when MTV and ESPN first came out and we went from 12 channels with a dial to 30 channels with a space-age remote, Super Bowl Sunday meant a day filled with tons of good sports matchups. In fact, I recall a Sixers-Celtics and Celtics-Lakers matchup as an appetizer for the big game. For geeks like me it was pretty fun to watch Doc, Moses, Andrew Toney, Larry Bird, etc., etc. before the biggest sporting event of the year. Often the NBA games were even better than the Super Bowl.

These days, though, there are 900 channels, on-demand, in-demand, DVR, TiVo, YouTube, Hulu, and whatever else you need to watch whatever you want whenever you want. Who can keep up? Moreover, the ratings are never going to be accurate—if they ever were in the first place.

Nevertheless, harkening back to those halcyon days when Super Bowl Sundays were spent with Kevin McHale and Joe Montana, I figured the lead-ins to the big game were worth a look again. Why not? I was already snowed in and didn’t feel like traipsing through our winter wonderland.

So after waking up at the crack of noon[1], the first stop on the TV was the NFL Network where they were set up at a desk on the field a good seven hours before kick-off. Even stranger than that, there was a whole bunch of hired heads yapping about the game from a whole bunch of different desks located around the stadium. The main desk, of course, had Rich Eisen at the head chair with Marshall Faulk, Steve Mariucci and Michael Irvin.

Across the field from the main desk was a blonde-haired woman with long hair that got all entangled in the wind whipping through the stadium. I probably wouldn’t have cared if she didn’t spend at least 30 seconds of TV time yapping about it as if the wind were literally spitting on her. In TV, 30 seconds is an eternity, but considering the NFL Network had more than six hours to fill the wind was as topical as anything else.

Still, the silliest part about the wind/hair/curses-to-Mother Nature was how the blonde-haired TV woman thought the development of strong morning breezes could have some affect on the passing attack for the Colts and Saints in the game. You know, because weather never changes in the span of six hours. If it’s windy when TV lady is on the scene, well by golly, it will be windy when everyone else is there, too.

Of course the big topics were reserved for Eisen and his crew on the other side of the field. That only makes sense considering there was only one meaningful topic, which they proceeded to pulverize with plenty of ancillary bantering between the panel because the game did not start for another six hours. Then, of course, Eisen ran things because he was the only guy there who did not play or coach in the NFL yet still was e-mailed bikini photos of that former anchor woman in Philly[2]. That makes Rich Eisen a hero to dweeby sports geeks everywhere and sends an important message…

Stay in school, kids. Study up on those important facts and sports reference material. Watch plenty of games and skip class if you must, but by all means, stay in school. You too can be just like Rich Eisen and hang with some ex-football players where you will spend the better part of six hours discussing Dwight Freeney’s ankle on a sun and wind-swept afternoon in Miami.

Good times!

But way too crazy for me. I needed to pace myself if I was going to make to kick-off so it was off to investigate what else was out there in the wonderland known as cable television. Better yet, I settled onto the MLB Network just in time to pick up Game 5 of the 2008 World Series exactly where it picked up after the two-day rain suspension. You remember the first part of the game, right? That’s the part where it rained so hard during the action that it could only be properly summed up by a soaking wet Ryan Howard after the stoppage in play when he told me it was a, “bleeping bleep show.”

How right he was.

Since I never saw the completion of Game 5 of the 2008 World Series except for in actual real time, I settled in to watch. Only this time I did it without the threat of having to go straight to the airport and to Tampa afterwards. It was much more enjoyable and relaxing this way.

But here’s what I don’t get:

Why did Joe Maddon leave the lefty J.P. Howell in to hit and then pitch to righty Pat Burrell to start the seventh? Burrell, of course, hit that double that just missed landing in the seats and then immediately took him out for a righty to face a switch-hitter and two straight right-handers? I thought Maddon was a genius?

Anyway, we all remember what happened from there and since they cut away before the clubhouse and field celebration—thus eliminating a chance for me to see myself lurking in the background like an idiot—it was time to move on…

… to a Duke-North Carolina match-up from 1988 when the Tar Heels were rated No. 2 in the country and Duke was on the way to a Final Four appearance. Oh yes, they were all there: Danny Ferry with hair, Quinn Snyder all skinny and point-guardy. There was J.R. Reid with that flat top, Rick Fox in short shorts, and Jeff Lebo from Carlisle, Pa. where he and Billy Owens won the state championship.

Yes, Dean Smith was there, too, along with Coach K still looking as rat-faced as ever. But what was the most interesting was catching a glimpse of Billy King when he was a school boy with Duke. We all remember Billy, right? The Sixers’ slick and stylish GM, who given the current state of the franchise, might not have been doing too badly. Nevertheless, in 1988 King didn’t have those chic thin glasses or the neat clean-shaven head like he did when he was running the Sixers. Instead he had a mustache that would have made Billy D. envious and a flat top that fit perfectly with the trendiness of 1988.

But Ferry, the current GM for the first-place Cleveland Cavaliers, ran things for Duke back then. With Kevin Strickland and Ferry combining for 41 points, Duke got a 70-69 victory in their first of three wins over Carolina that season.

But Billy King’s mustache and haircut can only pique one’s interest for so long. It was Super Bowl Sunday, after all, and kick-off was quickly approaching. It was time to prepare, so I checked on the veggie chili I had simmering on the stove top, poured myself a tall glass of iced tea, and flipped the dial back to the NFL Network for any last minute insight.

Instead I got a whole bunch of yelling and a lot of goofing off.

Seemingly holding down the fort as if in some sort of sadistic dance marathon, Eisen was sitting there in Miami grinning like a goon as Mariucci and Irvin were shouting overly wrought football points about topics no one could decipher. Actually, Irvin dropped into some sort of loud, pontification worthy of the finest antebellum preacher or Stephen A. Smith marked with a ridiculously loud over-enunciation usually reserved for people trying to sell you a mop on TV or folks who just have no idea what the hell they’re talking about. Why shout and put on such an over-the-top show if you have the facts cold? If it’s true, it doesn’t have to be sold. The truth sells and I’m buying. Only I didn’t buy any of this[3].

Just the facts, guys.

Oh, but if you wanted to hear Irvin really get loud, all you had to do was wait for Adam Sandler, David Spade, Kevin James, Rob Schneider and Chris Rock take over the set to talk about some movie they have coming out sometime soon. Aside from being the typical comedians-interviewed-at-the-Super-Bowl bit, the only trenchant part came when Spade astutely replied to Eisen’s query of a prediction with, “No one cares what we think about football.”

That David Spade is a wise one.

Then again maybe that’s not entirely true. Maybe that depends on what those guys actually have to say about football. Take Chris Rock, for instance. After the group interview with the funny guys, Rock gave a private interview with Deion Sanders in director’s chairs near the field because… well, because he’s Chris Rock. And aside from explaining to Deion that he was no Juan Pierre during his baseball days, Rock dropped this nugget when asked who his favorite player was.

“Donovan,” Rock said.

In the history of the NFL there have only been nine guys with the name, “Donovan.” Chances are Chris Rock was not talking about Art Donovan, the Hall-of-Fame tackle for the Baltimore Colts during the 1950s. Making it easier to deduce that this “Donovan” character was indeed, Donovan McNabb of the Philadelphia Eagles, came when Prime Time asked why Donovan was his favorite player.

“He wins like a man and loses like a man. … He takes responsibility,” Rock said.

Interesting, huh?

Chris Rock is a tough act to follow so just before heading off to a pre-game nap, I flipped to CBS just in time to see host James Brown tell analyst Dan Marino that the road leading to the stadium in Miami was, “Dan Marino Blvd.”

Judging from Dan’s expression upon hearing that news, it looked as if the ol’ QB took had taken a few wrong exits off that road in the past.

---

[1] No, not really. I just love that expression and the humor that comes with sloth.

[2] For the life of me I can’t remember her name. Alycia was it? Does it matter? Is there a difference?

[3] The only way Irvin could have sold me is if he would have twisted his mustache and wore a bowler hat like an evil spy. Otherwise, it’s just yelling.

Pickin' Winners (with experts): Super Bowl 44

As the story goes, Pete Townshend, the guru/leader/guitarist for The Who, and Jimi Hendrix were backstage at the Monterey Pop Festival in June of 1967 arguing over who would go on first. You see, neither Jimi nor Pete wanted to follow each other as the last two acts at the seminal rock festival.

Who could blame them? To that point in the show, Otis Redding already incinerated half of the audience and Janis Joplin and Ravi Shankar didn’t mess around, either. So with the gig winding down and the stakes already high, both Pete and Jimi knew the other was going to bring it — they just didn’t want to get caught in each other’s wake.

See, what The Who and Jimi Hendrix already knew from playing in London (and what American audiences were about to learn) was that the guard was changing. Nobody was going to stand still and just strum the chords anymore. What good did that do? By that point, Townshend and The Who’s drummer, Keith Moon, were known for their destruction of their instruments as well as their blistering sets, while Jimi was known simply as the baddest man on the planet.

Actually, that last sentence implies something that isn’t quite accurate. By all accounts Jimi Hendrix was a peach of a man. Sweet and soft-spoken, Jimi was said to be incredibly self-conscious and humble. He and his father, Al, were particularly close and each had a love for music that they shared. Nice and friendly doesn't go far enough -- Jimi was just beautiful. It emanated from his soul.

But put Jimi on a stage with a guitar in his hands and he turned into a monster. Not just an ordinary monster, either. He was once-in-an-epoch monster who wasn’t satisfied unless he obliterated everyone in the room. He didn’t just want to strike to the heart, soul and bone, but he wanted to blow your mind, too. With a guitar, Jimi came for blood and didn't stop until he had it all.

Pete Townshend knew this and it’s why he didn’t want The Who to go on second. Jimi had seen The Who in action, too, and felt he couldn’t compete with the group’s furor.

With negotiations mired in a stalemate and the decision regarding which group would go on first drawing ever closer, Jimi grabbed his guitar, stood on top of a chair located in front of Townshend and as they story goes, proceeded to play some of the sickest licks ever contemplated by a human. It went on for a few minutes with the notes feeling more like taunts or arrows slung from a six-string. Everyone in the room stopped, unsure of what was happening until Jimi got off the chair, put down his Fender and finally spoke in that beautifully soothing voice of his.

“You can go on first,” Jimi supposedly told Townshend. “But I’m pulling out all the stops.”

Townshend should have known that instant that his strategy had backfired. Something transcendent was about to occur and instead of just the group that followed Jimi being lost in the shuffle, Townshend goaded the master into turning the entire roster of acts into a footnote. More than 40 years later when people mention the Monterey Pop Fesitval, the only lasting image is of Jimi Hendrix kneeling over his guitar that had burst into flames.

Jimi burned that bitch down!

Jimi Hendrix was not of our world. He was too good for us and had to go somewhere else. That’s just the way it is sometimes for deities, both religious and otherwise. But on Sunday The Who is still putting it through the paces when they will perform a medley of their most notable tunes at the Super Bowl.

Yes, The Who, once the most power packed outfit of men to walk the earth—so powerful that they once forced Jimi Hendrix to set California on fire—is playing the halftime show at the Super Bowl.

Just let that stand there for a second.

Townshend once wrote that he hoped he died before he got old, which is actually kind of a cool sentiment. Better yet, you can dance to it, too. Apparently, age and the ages don’t bother much with sideshows and novelty acts.

Could you imagine Keith Moon at the Super Bowl? Moon, of course, checked out in 1978 after swallowing too many clomethiazole tablets only to be followed by the group’s innovative bassist, John Entwistle, after an accident with some cocaine in Las Vegas in 2002. In other words, The Who stopped being The Who a long time ago. The Who that played in Monterey in 1967 would never be asked to play at the Super Bowl and that’s a compliment.

Instead, Pete Townshend and his muse, Roger Daltry, will open up for Peyton Manning on Sunday. And no, that’s not as bad as it sounds. A son of New Orleans, Manning could be viewed as the Jimi Hendrix of quarterbacks. Like Jimi, Manning is a virtuoso with a rightful reverence for the classics (Jimi played in Little Richard’s band when he started out and Manning wore black high-top spikes to honor Johnny U.) only with Smarty Jones-like bloodlines.

The truth is Manning is playing a different game out there. He sees things no one else has ever contemplated and then goes out there and makes it happen. Sure, it’s a team game and all of that, but Mitch Mitchell and Noel Redding never sounded better than when they played in The Experience and drop Jimi into The Band of Gypsys with Buddy Miles and no one else stands a chance.

It’s just too much firepower.

So yes, when looking at the outcome for Sunday’s Super Bowl, just look for the message the halftime show is sending. No, Peyton Manning is no Jimi Hendrix. Not even close. But Pete Townshend is no Pete Townshend, either.

Colts 45, Saints 21

Andy Schwartz
CSNPhilly.com/wonder boy

Forget Manning vs. Brees. It's Hank Baskett vs. Kyle Eckel. Colts win, 105-104.

Andy makes others look good when it should be the other way around. He went to Cheltenham High and Colgate University, too.

Mike Sielski
Calkins Newspapers/stately columnist

I believe in the Manning family. The Manning family has made a fortune producing quarterbacks, and Archie Manning raised his son in the Manning fashion. He gave him freedom, but he taught him never to throw a curl-in route against two-deep zone coverage. His son found a good group of wide receivers and a strong offensive line. His son never went to the movies. He stayed up late watching game film. Who would protest? Two months ago, his son was winning every game he played, with his coach. Then the coach made him lose two games. The son resisted. He kept his honor. He didn't weep because of the pain. But I wept. Why did I weep? Peyton Manning is the light of my life, a beautiful man.

Colts 35, Saints 20.

Mike writes sentences the way you grow hair and rack up out of control credit debt. He is also the author of "Fading Echoes," which is sold at all self-respecting book stores.

Mike Wann
Neighborhood gadfly

Even as a self-diagnosed sports illiterate, I was surprised by my own ignorance of this year's Super Bowl. After a little research I understood why:  one team hails from Louisiana, the other Indiana.  No wonder I hadn’t heard anything about it. 

Nonetheless...

A prediction of a Saints victory would only stem from post-Katrina compassion.  Unfortunately that has completely disappeared in a tsunami of Haitian guilt. 

One could argue the Colts are due a victory since the only thing of worth to come out of Indiana in the recent past is John Cougar Mellencamp and the 27" all-wood-paneled RCA television set, neither of which have been relevant since 1981 (astute students of football may argue that the Colts won Super Bowl XLI, but they would be wrong.  Ever since Peyton Manning's developmentally challenged younger brother upstaged him the following year, only papa Archie remembers the "other" Super Bowl played in Miami).  

So with all that said, I have no choice but to predict a draw. 

Mike is out sitting in his sun room watching the snow cascade from the sky.

John Gonzalez
Philadelphia Inquirer/wacky guy

The Mannings are an international scourge. They own a Guatemalan sweat shop where children sew soccer balls with their teeth. Look it up on the internet. Saints 35, Colts 31.

Gonz is on the radio and in the paper... what can't he do?! WHAT CAN'T HE DO!?

Paul Flannery
WEEI/Celtics & NBA writer

I'm rooting for the Saints because Hokie Gajan was my favorite player growing up, and as an East Coast liberal I'm obligated to cheer for anything related to New Orleans and boo anything related to Archie and Olivia.

P.S. Oh fine. Add this: Saints 28, Colts 24.

Paul Flannery covers the Boston Celtics and the NBA for weei.com and used to write about Delco League baseball for the Daily Times down there in Delaware County. Follow him on Twitter @pflanns.

Dan Roche
CSN/song& dance man

Big C's Supe predictions/odds:
 
Over/Under on Archie/Eli Manning cutaway shots: 11.5 (Over)
Over/Under on Kim Kardashian cutaway shots: Nowhere near enough
 
Over/Under on Elapsed time for Carrie Underwood's National Anthem: 1:42 (Over)
Odds I think I could do a better job than Carrie Underwood: No Line
 
Odds Indy scores 1st:  -165
Odds NO scores 1st: +130
Odds Tiger Woods scores 1st: -1500
 
Over/Under - Total player arrests during Super Bowl week: 0.5
   Prediction: Under (Marvin Harrison isn't a Colt anymore)
 
Will CBS show Tim Tebow's commercial:
Yes  +200
No   -220
Who cares? -2250
 
What will Peyton Manning do first?
Throw a TD pass: -325
Throw an INT: +250
Step up to the line, then step back, pointing and screaming like an auction caller with Tourette's: -5000
 
Whom will Drew Brees thank first in the postgame interview if the Saints win?
God: 4/5
His teammates: 9/5
Brett Favre: 8/1
Whatever that is on Drew Brees' Face: 15/1
 
And oh yeah...

Final score: Colts, 31-20 (Colts -5.5, under, and so I win my block pool)

Dan sometimes goes by the handle, "Boonie." He lives in Delaware with his wife, son and mortgage and makes TV shows that you watch.

Jason Weitzel
Beerleaguer.com

I'm not a football guy, so I can only imitate what I've heard listening to two weeks of over-inflated blather from analysts on ESPN radio. It goes something like this ...

“To me, it boils down to the quarterback position. That means none other than Peyton Manning and Drew Brees. In order to have success in the Super Bowl, and achieve greatness in the National Football League, the quarterback must rise to the occasion in clutch situations, and in the National Football League, there's no greater game than the Super Bowl. This is a game that will be won in the trenches. It starts up front with the play of the offensive line. They must protect the quarterback and give Peyton Manning time. You can't expect to win consistently in the National Football League without a strong defense. They must apply pressure to the quarterback position. Sean Payton and Jim Caldwell must be prepared to make adjustments.”

Pitchers and catchers in 12 days.

Jason's site is Beerleaguer.com, but you already knew that.

Todd Zolecki
Phillies beat writer/MLB.com

Brett Favre throws another killer interception to help the Colts to a 31-28 victory. What? Favre isn't playing? Awwwww ...

A Wisconsin native, Todd finally asked his mom to take down the Brett Favre poster hanging on his bedroom wall. Read more from Todd on The Zo Zone!

Kevin Roberts
Good citizen

I can't believe you actually want me in here; I'm assuming this is a mistake with your old email chain. If you really want: “Kevin Roberts was a columnist at the Courier-Post before the Courier lost its mind and decided to stop being a real newspaper, and now works as an occasional freelancer and ghostwrites sports books in addition to his duties at Resources for Human Development, a national nonprofit human services corporation, where he works in communications,” well, then, OK:

I'm not sold on Peyton Manning as a clutch performer yet. He's been great this year, and in two playoff wins he's been excellent. But his career postseason record is just 9-8. His career QB rating is still just 87.1, which is just barely OK. In 2006, when he finally became, "A Guy Who Could Win The Big One," Manning threw touchdowns and seven interceptions in the postseason and won the Super Bowl MVP with a barely decent day (81.7 QB rating) simply because he was playing quarterback for the team that was playing Rex Grossman when Rex Grossman, predictably, threw up on himself. That might not be the best test. But New Orleans will be. Despite a nagging feeling that the Saints were the second-best team in the NFC championship game, the pick here is that Drew Brees and a complete Saints team armed with a big-play defense will carry the day.

Saints 33, Colts 2

Kevin is a terrific writer and used to ply his trade for the Camden Courier Post until it decided existence was no longer a compelling state in which to dwell. Kevin gets to New Orleans often for work and loves the notion that football will save that city.

Chris Wilson
Drums/Ted Leo & the Pharmacists

Choosing a Super Bowl winner between two dome teams playing a game in Miami in the middle of a snow storm in Philly is kind of a bummer. Anyways, I’m picking New Orleans for a few reasons, and here they are:

First, has anyone been to Indy? It’s a very wholesome landlocked city in the Midwest that's kinda dead boring to be honest. New Orleans, where to start? The food? The music? The history? The music?(!!!) the feeling that the best/worst thing ever could be waiting for you around each corner? Do I need to bring up Katrina? Sorry.

Second, the quarterbacks. Both seem like very likable guys and are beyond amazing at what they do. But Peyton did do that Oreo Racing League commercial and Drew Brees didn't. That’s worth at least a touchdown.

And lastly, I’m originally from Arkansas, and rooted for the Eagles even back then. They always played the Cowboys hard. Even though Dallas was only four hours away and it would make sense if I loved them, I hated them with a passion. America’s team? No thanks. I’ll root for the underdog. At any rate, in January of 1993, my great-grandfather was in the hospital and didn't have very much time left. I went on one of my weekly visits to see him so we could watch the NFC wild card game together. The Eagles beat the Saints 36-20 (going on to lose in the divisional round to those damned Cowboys, 34-10). I think my attitude may have been a little too boo-yeah that day and every time I’ve seen the Chappelle's Show skit where he goes to visit that sick kid Billy in the hospital and winds up slaying him at street hoops on PlayStation, I think about that and feel a little bad about it.

So for Elmer B. Hulsemann, I pick the Saints over the Colts 34-17. Boo-yeah!

Hear Chris’ work with Ted Leo and the Pharmacists on March 9 when their new record, “The Brutalist Bricks,” is released. Or hell, check out some of the new songs from last week's noontime gig at the World Cafe on XPN. If just owning a copy of the record isn’t good enough for you (and it shouldn’t be), catch the band on their spring tour that stops in Philadelphia (April 7), Washington (April 8), New York (April 9) and Boston (April 10).

Sarah Baicker
Sports kitten/CSNPhilly.com

I'm pretty sure the reason I find so much success in my March Madness pools (really, I've gotten first or second place each of the past five years) is that I try to pay as little attention as possible to the meaningful statistics. Instead, I pick something silly to consider about the two teams involved in each game. And so, for the Super Bowl, I've decided to think about which quarterback I would rather see guest star in an episode of Saturday Night Live. Because you know the winning QB will make an appearance, even though no one watches the show anymore.

Turns out, my SNL Bowl isn't even a contest. Drew Brees vs. Peyton Manning? The guy who's allergic to dairy and wheat vs. the guy who's voiced a character on The Simpsons? I mean, c'mon! Manning wins it, hands down.

Seriously, though: The Saints have the story but the Colts have the experience. So my money (not that there's a lot of it) is on another big win for Manning and company.

Colts 31, Saints 24

Sarah knows more about hockey than you. She also will cross-check you into the boards, pick you off the ice and bake you some brownies. Tread lightly around her, folks.

Ellen Finger
School marm

Since I haven't paid attention to the actual football season this year, making an educated guess is out of the question. Maybe I will base my selection on the answer to the country's most timely and riveting question: Team Kim or Team Kendra??

While I have shamefully watched “Keeping Up With the Kardashians” more times than I'd like to admit, I found I couldn't stomach bubble-boobed Kendra Wilkinson's reality show for more than two minutes. She had absolutely nothing to say and seemingly, nothing to do but look blissfully confused and order dinner from the Olive Garden.

Then again, Kendra is actually married to a dreamy Super Bowler, while Kim has been looking desperate, crossing her fingers that a win on Sunday means a big honkin' engagement for her. Even People Magazine's online poll asking readers whether they are supporting Team Kim or Team Kendra is all tied up.

Geez. Decisions, decisions... maybe I'll just ask my five-year-old, and I'll go with whatever he thinks.

OK, he says the Stevens College of Technology Bulldogs will defeat the Philadelphia Eagles, 100-5. Perfect.

Ellen is too busy and married beneath her standards to be bothered at this moment. This is all you get for now.

Dennis Deitch
Sixers beat writer/Delaware County Daily Times

Yeah, it's late getting here -- but so what? What are you doing? I'll tell you what you're doing, you're watching the snow pile up to your third chin. Meanwhile, I'm wearing shorts in Houston, so take that. Besides, the only people reading this are the other people invited to make their predictions. For good taste's sake I can't say what this is the Interblogs version of ... but there's a punk band named after it, and the first word in the name is a shape and the second word is a Steve Martin film.

Anyway, the game. First off, I just left New Orleans, and if one more person had said "Who dat?" before I got on that plane, I was taking a hostage (and considering the track record in airports, I probably would have been successful). That said, New Orleans deserves something good, and it is going to get it. I predicted that the NFC Championship game would be an epic. It was. I also predicted the winner would win the Super Bowl. It will. The Saints have a sick offense. Drew Brees is Joe Montana -- undersized, but a flat-out winner. He took not one, but two black-and-gold-garbed jokes (Purdue and the Saints) and turned them into quality teams. The Saints got past a team with a far better defense than the Colts two weeks ago; the Colts had to rally in the second half against a rookie QB and Buddy Ryan's son. C'mon.

We'll give the runner-up in the Sony Ping-Pong tournament a late TD to make it respectable, but it's Saints 35, Colts 31.

A child acting star, Dennis played Arnold's friend who was molested in an episode of "Diff'rent Strokes." His passions are cards and the atmosphere.

Enrico Campitelli Jr.
The 700 Level

I just don't think the Puppy Bowl will be the same without Harry the K calling the riveting action, although I did hear they have some arctic hares as cheerleaders (hairy cheerleaders!). I'm pulling for the Pomeranian.

As for The Big Game, I think I'm with the majority of the sports watching world when I say I'd like to see the underdog Saints pull it out but also think Peyton Manning and the Colts are just too much. Sean Payton has those Philly roots so I'll pull for him. Saints 35-31.

Also, Baba O'Riley opener.

Enrico started your favorite web site, The 700 Level. He's a force of nature.

More media days, please

Word out of Miami was that Tuesday was the infamous “Media Day.” That’s where the contestants sit behind card tables with aprons wrapped around the fringe in order to make themselves properly available to the horde that shows up to cover the media day.

Yeah, that’s right… some folks cover the Super Bowl from the vantage point of media day and leave the actual football stuff to the sports writing crew. For instance, don’t expect to see Downtown Julie Brown going over Xs and Os on the day of the big game, but you can be sure as heck she (or modern equivalent of her) will be making the rounds at media day.

The best part about media day is how the media complains about media day. I love that. Usually it comes from the sports writers who, a.) aren’t the most welcoming sort to begin with, and, b.) don’t like it when their little piece of turf is invaded by non-sports types.

Wanna drive the sports complainers crazy? Tell them that the sports industry is entertainment. The MVP and the Hollywood star really aren’t all that different.

That might not be the reason why some folks get bent about media day, though. The truth is a lot of those guys are ticked off to begin with and they don’t like it when a flunky from a South American comedy show is singing karaoke with the starting tight end when they want to know about the intricacies of Dwight Freeney’s ankle injury.

Frankly, there’s room for both the geek and the flunky in media day. In fact, the goofballs are the best part about it and sometimes they are on the other side of those tables, too. Remember when the Eagles made it to the Super Bowl and Freddie Mitchell threw a tantrum because he wasn’t assigned a seat with the team’s stars? Apparently Mitchell thought he was the reason why the Eagles got to the Super Bowl.

Regardless, usually the athletes are at media day to endure the legit questions and enjoy the absurdity of it all. For some of that, check out the Huffington Post’s photo gallery of this year’s media day.

From my perspective, the only chance I’ve had to see anything remotely close to the media day of Auper Bowl was the one they held before the opening game of last October’s World Series. In the past media availability for the World Series was simply a matter of opening up the clubhouse and allowing the press to find whoever they wanted… that is if they were even there. Left to their own devices, some baseball players would prefer to hide out in the off-limits area until the coast is clear. But at media day before the World Series (only for the games at Yankee Stadium, it should be noted), every player was set out at their own spot—even the guys no one wanted to talk to.

Needless to say, the NFL and the Super Bowl carry a bit more cachet than baseball’s World Series. And since baseball players are known for being the surliest of the bunch, the only goofs that showed up were from the mainstream press and Arsenio Hall, who works for Jay Leno’s show.

Poor guy.

Either way, the message from the media day(s) is that the NFL wants to be a cross-cultural phenomenon. Sure, when it comes to the action on the field, yes, the NFL is the proverbial stuffed shirt. Any semblance of personality from a player or coach is beaten away in Soviet-like precision while the owners share the bounty of their provinces with the politburo in New York City.

And like any totalitarian regime, the NFL has a remarkable marketing initiative. The league protects its image, or “brand” as they say in the vernacular. Between the point spreads and the fantasy leagues, everyone seems to have an interest in the comings and goings on football Sundays. If people want to talk about football, buy into its programming and spend time with all of its products, by golly, the NFL is going to let them.

Even when the NFL does something stupid like sue over the phrase, “Who ‘Dat?” the NFL quickly figures out how silly it is. The league might even admit this and offer a mea culpa of sorts.

MLB, meanwhile, is too busy looking for new ways to upset the fans. First they tried to sue fantasy leagues over the use of baseball statistics as if they are intellectual property or some silliness, before they set up a deal so that only one company could use its logos on baseball cards.

Then, just in case you didn’t get the message, MLB will broadcast its biggest games too late in the night for kids to watch.

Nice.

So when you’re at your Super Bowl party this weekend with a bunch of interesting people from all over, don’t think about whether or not you would do the same thing for a big baseball game—Bud Selig is monitoring your thoughts and will issue an injunction if you do.

What we Learned from Super Bowl 43

So, what did we learn from Sunday’s Super Bowl 43? Was there anything gleaned from that magnificent and furious finish in which the lead changed hands twice in the final two-and-a-half minutes? Is there anything we can learn about the Eagles from watching Big Ben, Kurt Warner, Santonio Holmes and Larry Fitzgerald?

Why yes. Yes there was.

First, we learned that the devastated economy is all encompassing and has even affected the quality of the television commercials broadcast during the game. C’mon, was anyone really impressed? Does anyone remember any ad that really stood out? There are people who write/blog about the cultural relevancy of the whole Super Bowl show and nobody really dived in to the commercial aspect of it.

And this is a good thing. Maybe it means advertisers are finished treating the audience like they are idiots. Besides, we’re all broke. We can’t buy what they’re selling anyway.

Continue reading this story...

Pickin' winners

Yes, it's clear to us that the Super Bowl is to football fans what New Year's Eve is to Keith Richards. It's strictly amateur hour. Do you think Keith needs to wait for the last day of the year to chug champagne and rock in midnight? Shoot, that's a quiet Tuesday night for Keith.

But make no mistake, Keith is out on New Year's Eve. He's out on New Year's Day, too. He's a pro. Just like you with your football.

Yeah, chances are you will have to sit in a crowded room with a bunch of football novices who ask inane questions about the nickel defense or smart-alecky comments from that one dude after every other play.

Such irreverence!

If that wasn't enough there is the gambling and all that baking. During the Super Bowl people bet on things like which player will score the first touchdown, how deep the kickoff will travel, or whether punter Mitch Berger is wearing a cup. The more absurd the wager the better, which makes the casseroles and other baked goods go down that much smoothly.

But where was this weeks ago? When the Eagles were getting all tied up in Cincinnati during November, was anyone taking action or putting pigs in a blanket?

No, of course not. You're on your own during the mean, 16-weeks of the season. If you wanted those tofu pups lined with vegan cheese it was up to you to carry your sorry rear to the microwave and do it yourself.

The Super Bowl, however, is the great equalizer. In fact, people will tell you they don't care or even like football and the reasons why as they cozy up to you on the couch to watch the game.

Who needs it? Maybe it's best to dim down the lights, close the curtains and sit there alone and watch the game all by yourself. Send the wife and kids to the anti-Super Bowl festivities down at the mall and strap in.

It's almost midnight and the clock is ticking.

Continue reading this story...

Here's your boycott...

So Eagles’ fans got their first taste of a weekend without football following the loss to the Cardinals in the NFC Championship game two Sunday’s ago and it seems as if it didn’t go down too well. Lost and rudderless without the local football team to keep them anchored, the magnitude of the Eagles’ defeat resonated on the Richter scale in these parts.

Undoubtedly the depression felt during that week before the big championship game is an odd phenomenon. One would figure that Eagles fans would be used to it by now considering the team has been in just three Super Bowl/championship games since 1960 and five ever.

The big tease is nothing new from the football team in these parts.

Yet to listen to some folks – the die hards – the interest is gone. If there are no Eagles, there is no football. More interestingly, some have used the word “boycott” in conjunction with this Sunday’s Super Bowl. They won’t watch because seeing the Arizona Cardinals face the Pittsburgh Steelers in the big game is just too much to bear.

Really? Boycott? A football game?

Read the rest of this story

Super Bowl predictions

I don't hate the Super Bowl. I don't know where that came from. I dislike the Wing Bowl, which I believe is one of the biggest reasons why the rest of the world hates America and why the rest of America thinks Philadelphia and Philadelphians are ugly. At least that's what Americans told a slick travel magazine a few months ago. But that's a different story. In the meantime let's just be glad that the Wing Bowl is a radio event because I saw pictures of the contestants, the deejays and the scantily clad women hired to flash the audience and... how do we put this delicately... um... bowwow.

Look, I'm not George Hamilton, but geez. Cover up, people!

Anyway, the Super Bowl is set to be played sometime this weekend. That means we will be deluged with many of the worst parts of America not excluding crass commercialism, marketing and consumerism. In fact, some folks claim they watch the Super Bowl just for the new commercials. Really. Now how pathetic is that?

"Please, please, please tell me what to buy and how to think. Yes, yes, I know that if I drink your brand of light beer I will be as fiendishly clever and debonair as those hipsters with their meticulously messy haircuts and cavalier outlook on life. Drink up!

"That Spuds McKenzie! Rock on!"

Like Major League Baseball, the NFL has an alcohol problem it doesn't want to admit. But we'll save that issue for another time - or at least until the city police decides to set up DUI checkpoints outside the Linc after Sunday home games. Meanwhile, the beer companies have a problem because they can no longer produce commercials like this:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GXerZ0i1BQ&rel=1]

Never mind the fact that the Super Bowl is to football fans what New Year's Eve is to those on the pro party circuit - it's strictly amateur hour. But be that as it is, you make sure you tune into the game. Missing it would is like being stuck at home while everyone else is having a rockin' time with Dick Clark.

So to help out the football novices out there enjoy the game better, I sent out a mass email to some of the best minds in the sports business to provide a trenchant analysis of the big game.

Here's the results:

John Finger - Comcast SportsNet/Raconteur Giants I think I watched three or four football games from start to end this year and they all involved the Giants, Patriots or Brett Favre. I like Favre because he seems crazy - not crazy like he should be institutionalized, or crazy like he painted the windows black and allowed a bunch of dogs kill each other. But crazy in a way that I bet he would drink a champagne glass mixed with whatever liquid was left on the table if there was enough cash in it. For instance, if we're hanging out at a wedding with Brett and we combined a little champagne, a few floaters of beer, maybe a bit of a gin & tonic, eight olives and some sudsy bubbles left over from greeting the bride, I bet it would only take $11 to get him to drink the whole mix.

So yeah, I'm picking the Giants just to be different.

Todd Zolecki - Philadelphia Inquirer Patriots Because Bill Belichick is such a humble guy, I can't help but root for him.

Lance Crawford - Comcast SportsNet/mountain climber Patriots I see the Giants keeping it close for 3 quarters, making one fatal mistake and losing by the final of 31-21.

Kevin Roberts - Camden Courier Post Patriots I predict that during the halftime concert, Tom Petty will accidentally show a nipple. No one will care. On the field, the Patriots will win 87-2.

Courtney Holt - CSN/diva Patriots The evil hoodie strikes again! Brady and his boot (not Giselle) strike early and often against crappy Giants secondary. Randy Moss finally gets a ring and is disappointed to find it's not a good substitute for his bowl. Eli will rest his head in the space between Strahan's teeth and sob for 3 minutes, then hits the Waffle House off of 101 North with his fraud brother where they shoot a commercial.

Jim Salisbury - Philadelphia Inquirer Patriots The Pats will push the Giants off the elevator, 28-21.

Ellen Finger - teacher You're all winners! Seeing as I am one of the many schmucks who works tirelessly to make sure No Child is EVER Left Behind, I would like to propose that the Giants and Patriots simply play football for three hours. Then, whichever team is behind when time runs out should get a chance to kick field goals until they catch up to the other team. Or, better yet, maybe they should play but not keep score. During huddles the defense should be told exactly what play the offense is going to run. And at the end everyone will get a Super Bowl ring, an endorsement with Wheaties, and boatload of self esteem.

Marcus Hayes - Philadelphia Daily News Patriots With the eyes of the nation and his brother upon him, Eli Manning reverts to his pre-hypnotic state, channels Kerry Collins and throws four picks. Patriots 35, Giants 17.

Dennis Deitch - Delaware County Daily Times Patriots Patriots 38, Giants 27... I love the Pats and Moss on the fast track, particularly because Maroney has been giving their running game a little credibility. But the oddsmakers are in the zone with the betting line. The Giants will score some points, although I could see 7 or 10 of them coming in the final five minutes when it doesn't matter.

I like the over, of course. I also like prop bets for nine touchdowns scored (+750) and Todd Zolecki throwing a beer on a Giants fan in a first-half drunken rage at a Manayunk bar, then sprinting out the door to his home to avoid being pummeled (-110).

Scott Lauber - Wilmington News Journal Giants Giants 35, Patriots 32 ... Eli Manning isn't as bad as you think. Plus, it's always more fun to pick the underdog.

Martin Frank - Wilmington News Journal Patriots New England 38, NY Giants 17... I have no clever reason, or funny anecdote. I just think the Pats are much better than the Giants and now that Belichick has had 2 full weeks to spy on them, he'll probably know every single play Eli Manning is going to run.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Peyton Manning finally won the championship that had eluded him for so long, but for my money the MVP of Super Bowl XLI was a 5-foot-2, 100-pound, 49-year-old man. Clearly Prince had the best moves all night. The commercials were bad, the weather was awful, the game was sloppy and anticlimactic. Midway through the third quarter I nearly gave up and took to answering e-mail, reading Wikipedia entries, flipping through the latest issue of The Economist all while following the action of the game on Deadspin's live blog.

God bless the Internet.

The problem was that my friends all have children under 4 and by the time halftime rolled around it was bedtime. Because of that there was no way to keep interest high since everyone had retreated to their own dens and living rooms to answer e-mail, read Wikipedia entries, flip through the latest issue of The Economist all while following the action of the game on Deadspin's live blog.

Was there anything better to do?

The first half of the game was pretty fun. Devin Hester's TD return will go down as one of those memorable moments in the history of the Super Bowl, but after that everything went just as I had predicted. Take away Hester's run and the game is over midway through the second quarter.

Still, the game was not the worst ever. It's doubtful it was even the most boring – just typical.

Worst Super Bowls:

* XXIV Jan. 28, 1990 San Francisco 55, Denver 10

* XXXV Jan. 28, 2001 Ravens 34, N.Y. Giants 7

* XXXIII Jan. 31, 1999 Denver 34, Atlanta 19

* XLI Feb. 4, 2007 Indianapolis 29, Chicago 17

* XXIX Jan. 29, 1995 San Francisco 49, San Diego 26

* XXVIII Jan. 30, 1994 Dallas 30, Buffalo 13

* XXVII Jan. 31, 1993 Dallas 52, Buffalo 17

* XXVI Jan. 26, 1992 Washington 37, Buffalo 24

* XV Jan. 25, 1981 Oakland 27, Philadelphia 10

* XXI Jan. 25, 1987 N.Y. Giants 39, Denver 20

Was anyone hoping (like I was) that Prince would proclaim, "Game. Blouses," at the end of his performance?

Straight bloggin'

Here's the deal for today: if I find something interesting, or relevant to the local scene (Lancaster or Philadelphia) it's going up on the site. In other words this might be like a real blog for a change only not fun to read or planned out. Hey, what are you going to do -- I just came up with the idea on the way home from Starbucks.

In a sense this will be a homage to Dan McQuade since he is far and away the best blogger in the city. That Beerleaguer guy is good, too, but he's no McQuade.

Anyway, let's get started...

This morning in the car I heard all-time great football coach talk about the early Super Bowls. He remembered Super Bowl III and losing in his first two appearances in the big game and how everything had changed. The biggest change, Shula said, was in the coverage. Back before the Super Bowl became and event and a holiday -- it used to be just a football game -- Shula said he would ride with the team in a bus from their practice site, walk across the hotel lobby, a park himself in the hotel bar for his weekly press conference. For the two or three reporters covering him, that was enough.

Now, Shula says, the backup offensive linemen have a podium.

Even guys who aren't playing in the game like Donovan McNabb have press conferences, where, frankly, nothing fascinating was revealed. However, thanks to an email sent from bulldog Eagles' writer Andy Schwartz, Peyton Manning seems to have had something interesting to say.

Peyton on the most pressure he has ever felt in his life:

“I signed up for this class in eighth grade called ‘musical theatre’ with the goal of getting out of computers. A week into the class they told me that I had to be in the school play, and I said that I didn't want to do that and they said that I was in the play. They assigned you a role, the play was called ‘The Boyfriend.’ They gave me the role of Miguel. One of the scenes I had to do the tango with Lola. It had the wardrobe; black pants, red ruffled tuxedo shirt and a yellow cumberbun. It was a full on tango. I had to do it on Friday in front of the whole school which wasn't that much pressure. But they said that you had to do it again Saturday Night in front of the families, which meant in front of my two brothers, Eli and Cooper, because on Friday they weren't going to be there because Cooper had practice Saturday they were going to be able to be there. Now that's pressure.

“But I did it. I studied that, and I went full speed on that tango. There is video. Don't look for it. It's deep in the Manning vault I can assure you. That was some pressure.

“The way that I deal with pressure and I used this quote yesterday and I will say it again, my dad used to give me quotes and put a quote on my bulletin board. He would just peg them on there, like Jimmy Connors, ‘I hate to lose, more than I like to win,’ and I agree with that. Chuck Noll's, ‘pressure is something you feel only when you don't know what you are doing’ and that is how I feel. I get prepared. I prepare as hard as I possibly can. Sure you feel nervous, you feel anxious, but I don't feel pressure because I feel that I have done everything I could to be prepared for that game. When you go out there and do it, and there have been plenty of games where I have said that I wish that I could have this throw back or I wish that I would have seen that linebacker, but it just didn't happen, but I have never left the field saying I could have done more to get ready for that game. That gives me piece of mind.

“That is how I am dealing with it this week. I will study as hard as I possibly can. I am not over studying and I am not over preparing. I am doing what I feel I need to do to get ready. I feel that will be enough, and hopefully I go out there and play well.”

Now if Manning dances the tango in the Super Bowl we all should be really impressed.