Although Jon Gruden has shown himself capable of being engaging and occasionally cogent on his QB Camp specials with impending draftees, he remains generally worthless in the “Monday Night Football” booth. There’s a clear and grating Gruden M.O.: he ticks off his litany of catchphrases, assigns random professions as nicknames (“THIS GUY, ANDY DALTON, I’M GONNA CALL HIM THE ASTRONAUT, BECAUSE THERE’S NO TELLING HOW HIGH HE’LL GO AND BECAUSE HE BELONGS ON A RED PLANET!”) and shouts.

We already know to expect a more concentrated dose of Gruden this coming season after ESPN removed Jaws from the booth in order to go with a two-man team. What we didn’t know is just how much the Worldwide Leader loves them some Chucky. From a media Q&A session with ESPN president John Skipper:

Jaws [Ron Jaworksi] is great. What we are mostly trying to do is we want to ride Gruden. Gruden is a star. You have seen his QB show. He has a lot of personality. He has a lot to say. There was some concern that he and Jaws sounded a little bit the same in the booth. We just thought it would help viewers sort of understand who was there. Our sense is we ride Mr. Gruden a little bit. I think he can be a big star.

Sure, if you’re going solely by the QB specials, I could understand why he might have confidence in Gruden’s affability as a potential audience draw. But like all others who enter an ESPN booth, Gruden is injected by producers with a cocktail of ketamine, speed and that compound from 28 Days Later just before he goes on the air. He immediately drops 40 IQ points and becomes a frothing jackass. If there’s any consolation in the network president talking about riding him out like a running back, it probably means Gruden will break down into disrepair within three or four years.

In making the most obvious joke possible about Rex Ryan losing 90 lbs., Adam Schefter kept the god damn in “god damn snacks” while on-air. My stars! Such ribaldry! Either it’s the best evidence yet that Schefter is not actually a cyborg or his makers have added a swearing patch in his latest “human colloquialisms” update.

- On the outside chance you haven’t seen the profile of Justin Bieber that Drew wrote for GQ, get on it. The outtakes are also up over at Deadspin. As Kogod has noted, the greatest is yet to come when the Beebtards spew all their hate at Drew over Twitter for disparaging their swaggy lover boy.

- Got an extra $4,275 laying around? You could win the chance to have some fun out there while tossing the ball around with Brett Favre. Or if you have a set of tits, he’ll let you toss them for free.

- Further evidence that people are the worst: the home of Junior Seau was robbed five days after he committed suicide. Could be Junior Safehouse wasn’t the right wording after all.

- Because of the effects of a concussion, former Giants kicker Matt Bahr didn’t know where he was when he made the field goal to win the 1990 NFC Championship Game. Same goes for Lawrence Taylor, but that’s more on account of being coked out of his mind.

- Nick Mangold appeared on “Late Night With Jimmy Fallon” to take part in the “Wax On/ Wax Off” segment. First impression: Nick wasn’t all that hirsute in the torso region to begin with. You could have probably gotten more off of Holley Mangold.

Now that the Giants’ Super Bowl rings have been officially unveiled and Justin Tuck can stop talking about how all the leaked images looked nothing like the actual hardware, the Giants are looking to share the championship joy through social media with their fans. And so we have a mobile app that allows users to superimpose a “virtual” Super Bowl ring or Lombardi trophy into their profile image. How loverly.

Oh, the greasedouche duck face that will ensue. It will be endless. On a related note, I’m certain Tiki Barber has already downloaded this. Hell, while we’re at it, let’s give everybody Giants rings.

Yeah, that’s about how I feel about it, too, Cutty. But at least you finally got one!

Int. Cowboys Executive Offices

Jason: Welcome, chums, to another episode of Good Eatings. Joining me as always, is my dear brother Judd. Brother!

Judd: Thank you, brother! I’m very excited for today’s episode, as we’ll be recollecting one our finest eatings to date.

Jason: Indeed we are, brother! But before we get to that, there’s the matter of our regular disclaimer. This is Good Eatings, where we regale you with tales of our own finest eatings. There will be no cooking on this show. The physical act of preparing food is a task best left to peasants like Alton Brown.

Judd: Or ethnics like Tony Romo.

Jason: Brother, you mustn’t. He could be watching.

Judd: Not unless our humble program has been picked up by the Mexican Golf Channel.

Jason: Ha ha ha!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Jason: Tonight we’re recounting a whole roasted lamb we enjoyed while visiting the English countryside. Joining us tonight will be Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall, author of this particularly illuminating passage in The River Cottage Meat Book.

While an indoor-reared “spring lamb” sold at Easter will barely stand a week’s hanging, a late-summer or autumn lamb, nicely but not excessively fatted, can be hung for a good ten days. The resulting meat will have just the right balance of “youth and experience” for fine eating.

Judd: Fine eating indeed! And as a professional football scout I must agree. I am always on the hunt for the combination of youth and experience minus an excess of fat that can be found in players who were birthed late in the summer months.

Jason: Hmmm…yes. We can never underestimate the importance of good breeding practices when evaluating our meat or our players. As an extra special treat this week, Hugh has brought with him a lamb so that our viewers may gaze upon its succulence as we regale you with explicit details of our own fine eating.

(door flies open)

Wolfman Rob: OW-OOOOOOOOOOOO!!! How’d you two skinny fruits ever get a show about eatin’? I know it’s not about eatin’ pussy! OW-OOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Jason: Scoundrel! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out making excuses for your pathetic defense?

Wolfman Rob: Chill out, compadre. Like I said, my defense was too complicated for those players. We’re gonna be the most feared unit in the league once I simplify it a bit.

Jason: Oh, please. Your playbook was nothing more than a photocopy of Demi Moore’s unkempt pubis with the word “BLITZ” written on it in lipstick.

Wolfman Rob: That was a metaphor.

Judd: Oh, dear. I’m beginning to wonder what’s become of our guest and his delicious roasted treat.

Wolfman Rob Oh don’t worry, Professor Tweed will be fine. See I was back in that green room helping myself to some snacks.

Jason: How dare you? The items on that cheese plate were hand picked for Mr. Fearnley-Whittingstall.

Wolfman Rob That runny shit was cheese? Oh well, it went down okay when I put it in a sandwich with some teriyaki jerky. Anyway, I must have ripped a pretty heinous fart, because he passed out cold.

Judd: [faints]

Wolfman Rob: Oh, and I ate his dog. [belches loudly] OW-OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

Wine stolen from Jerry Jones

In a gesture that shows that either the Saints are being extra dramatic about the punishment handed down for bounties or that Sean Payton has died in a tragic riverboat gambling incident, the team is taking a note from Seder custom and leaving a space open for their suspended head coach at team functions throughout the year.

Payton won’t soon be forgotten by the 2012 Saints. The team is going to leave Payton’s chair empty on the team bus and plane all season. They are doing the same thing in team meetings.

It’ll be a somber vista, those empty chairs. Little doubt that the team will make it fittingly symbolic by festooning the open spots with Payton’s trademark visor, crutches and pack of Juicy Fruit. When it gets real quiet, the team will still be able to hear Sean not doing anything to stop targeting star players. That’s been Breesus will let rip a majestic ass-ripping. He really knows how to cut through the tension.

[Image via Shutterstock]

One of Peter King’s Tryout Guys, Andrew Sweat, an undrafted linebacker from Ohio State, said that rather than report to camp with the Browns and risk possibly dealing with a lifetime of lingering concussion issues, Sweat instead is going to law school. More troubling fallout from the Junior Seau suicide or is it simply the best way to dodge having to play for the Browns ever? It’s only a possibility because Peyton Hillis didn’t actually follow through with joining the CIA.

Deadspin’s Jack Dickey gave Sweat a bit of the ol’ snarky snark blogger grief, only for Sweat to respond directly, saying that he’s gonna do just fine as a lawyer ’cause he’s got a sweet-ass connect at his daddy’s law firm. Just spitballing here, but I’m gonna ahead and guess that he ends up being commissioner one day.

The episode reminds me of the Scott Sicko story from two years back, in which an undrafted tight end turned down contracts from five teams because he said he wanted to pursue his Master’s. Sportswriters muscled each other like shoppers on Black Friday to suck him off for the decision. Then, Sicko proceeded to change his mind and sign with the Cowboys days later. I can only hope this plays out similarly.

Most weeks, we’re all too happy to watch from afar, safe in the comfort of our home or office, as wild animals tear into one another for our voyeuristic thrill. Well, that’s probably not why the animals are doing it, but we derive fun from it anyway. Not this week. Now it’s a human’s turn to get ripped asunder. Comeuppance has come and it brought savagery with it. That’s what happens when people get lulled into a false sense of security. That or they’re the type of clueless white people Richard Pryor used to gag on. “Oh George, look at those lions! Let’s say hi!”

Get ‘em, Lions. That’s what Jim Harbaugh gets for mouthing off to your coach.

Some effective Native American trolling by this guy dressing up as the Redskins logo. Since it appears like he’s already in D.C., I propose he head down to the Mall in costume to visit the Smithsonian’s Museum of the American Indian. They’d get a kick out of that.

- “30 for 30″, one of very few redeeming things that ESPN does, has been renewed for a second installment. Among the projects already planned is a documentary about Bo Jackson. I’m down, but still holding out for a full-length feature on Tecmo Bo’s exploits is other video game universes.

- Matt Leinart hilariously compares his career arc to Kurt Warner’s. Mentions that Warmer didn’t start a game until he was 28 and is now possibly Hall of Fame-bound. Keep the dream alive, brah.

- Eagles left tackle Jason Peters re-rupurted his right Achilles tendon last night, destroying any chance he had left to play this year. Worse still, the aggravation was caused by a faulty Roll-A-Bout. Oh, the indignity. What’s more, this proves that the beer scooter Gronk was using earlier in the off-season to rest his injured ankle is safer than an actual crutch.

- Because apparently people had been enjoying it too much, Chris Berman joined Twitter. He’ll do battle with Jim Irsay for the title of most classic rock lyrics tweeted by an old asshole. SB Nation gives us a sample of what else we can expect from Berman. My guess: the worst.

- If you’re in the market for 92 photos of Dolphins cheerleader tryouts, Busted Coverage can help you out with that.

Today is my 43rd burstday. I don’t need to tell you that I am no sprig chicken. But I have moved on from my football playing daze and now am living contortably in my requirement. Football fans don’t fully capri hand what it means to a person when they enter requirement at such a hung age. Most people at my staid of life still have arcades of time left in the workhorse.

Early requirement may sound fun and relaxing, but for a parson who was so driven and folk sussed for such a long time, it is a huge transmission. During my NFL career, I barely ever had a moment’s breast. Even during the off-session, I was either trading myself to get better or commiserating in any number of events with spawn sores. My life was operating at a brickneck pace, but I loved ivory second of it.

When I first required, I tried a cart rear in broad blasting. Broad blasting is very different than football, even though many football players try it wons they inter requirement. My broad blasting career went well for a while, but it did not stick, which for me was a hymen shame. I liked broad blasting, but it is a computative field. I simp flee do not have what it tates. I was frost rated for a while but I have learned to live with it. Tit kiss what tit kiss.

The unfinally death of Junior Safehouse has made me think a grape deal about how I plan to spend the rest of my requirement. As they say, Midol hands are the devil’s sex swing. It worries me not to be as bossy as I was in the past. Unlike Safehouse, I don’t think I’ve suffered any braid damage from my playing daze. But it is always something to be mindmeld of. I ask my relatives if I’ve been acting her attic, just to make sore, but they tell me I have not. That is a real leaf.

Anyway, I wanted to let all my fans know how I was brewing, because the deaf of Safehouse has made folks concert about the whelp hair of former players. Know that I am doing star bright and there’s no reason to worry about me. The way I’m going, I’ll live to see many more burstdays.

Chancellor Woodson, board of trustees, faculty, staff, thank you for the opportunity to speak today. It’s a real honor to be here.

You students are doubtlessly aware of my heroic athletic exploits with the Wolfpack. From what I understand, learning about about my legacy is a required part of freshman orientation. I can only pray that my shining example helped to inspire you through the rigors of your time here at NC State. Now, some so-called experts claim that when I was here, I never beat shit-ass Maryland, but those are lies of the worst sort and they are propagated by heathens and charlatans. Pay them no mind.

The purpose of my visit is not to dwell on my glorious past. Rather, it is the future to which we will turn our attention. For me, the future will continue to be sanctified and storied. For you, the road ahead has yet to be defined. For some, that road will be level, well-marked and lead straight to a blessed life. For others, it will be disastrously rocky. You will lose you way, careen down an embankment, smash your face on the dashboard and, should you survive, be lucky enough that you can suck enough trucker dick to fetch a ride back to town. This second option is what I can the road of the non-believer. You don’t want that one.

I agreed to come back when I heard that North Carolina had banned gay people. Later, I found out it was just gay marriage the state has banned, but by then I was told that my flight was not refundable. There’s a handy lesson, kids: do your legwork. It pays off. Nevertheless, true to my word and my principles, I stuck to it and still showed up. For that, I can feel the satisfaction of carrying out a job that is asked of me. Also, I can collect the $300,000 honorarium that the university is contractually obligated to furnish me with. The rewards you reap in life will likely, well, certainly, be not as handsome, but that does not mean you too should not follow through on your commitments.

Faith. Family. Football. It is these three abiding themes that have come to define who I am. As you graduates venture out into the world, you will soon discover the overridding themes that will one day explain who you are. For example, there are the teammates, coaches and executives who rely on my immense talents to guide the fortunes of the San Diego Chargers. For them, it is Faith, Family and FREELOADING. Why do any of the messy work when you can just count on one guy to do it all? WHY ELSE WOULD YOU JUST LET ALL MY RECEIVERS AND TINY DARREN LEAVE THE TEAM? RYAN MATHEWS IS SATAN’S RANKEST QUEEF AND I AM CURSED WITH HIM BECAUSE OF INCOMPETENCE.

There are many passages from the Bible from which I draw guidance and inspiration, in particular, the ones about not spilling your seed upon the ground or men laying down with other men. But I will close today with a quote that will deliver blessings unto you:

“And I tell you, ask and you will receive; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.”

HAHAHA THAT’S RIGHT, LIBERAL ARTS EDUCATION SINFAGS! Ya betta ask somboddddddddaaaaaaaayyyyyyy!