Will the three people in this country who actually give a damn about the Super Bowl please raise your hand? (Aside from you, Rick. We've already made fun of you.)

As far as I can tell, this 'national championship game' is a beautifully transparent excuse for the following things:

Olympics:
Oh, my. I'm thoroughly convinced that Bob Costas is a puppet. Think about it—do you ever see him get up from behind the anchor desk? I'm betting there's a little guy hiding underneath it, manipulating strings and levers through his…wait, that's an ugly thought.

I'm in agreement with Jess. I think Ian Thorpe needs to be on a Wheaties box. Preferably wearing as little as possible.

Speaking of Aussies, I cringed while watching the Australian female gymnasts do their vault rotation. The girls were clearly being told to do vaults they weren't comfortable doing—it showed in their faces.Americans and their sports:
In the past couple of years I've really come to appreciate both soccer and hockey. I've often wondered why they aren't particularly popular in the States. Yesterday afternoon, while in a half-doze, a thought came to me:

"It's the scoring."