Earlier this week, former Cardinal/Seahawk/Bear/Ram/Panther/Colt receiver Ricky Proehl opened Ricky Proehl’s Proehlific Park Youth Sports Complex in Greensboro, NC. Jeezum-crow, that’s a long name. Is it located anywhere near Al Harrington’s Wacky Waving Inflatable Arm-Flailing Tube-Man Emporium and Warehouse?

Note the use of the word “Proehlific.” I tend to look askance at any product which describes itself using a neologism based on the product name (i.e. Swifferiffic, Fergalicious, Schweppervescence). But in the interests of preserving the endangered species that is the white wide receiver, I pledge my unconditional support to this effort. Don Beebes don’t just grown on trees, y’know.

Mister Proehl, you are hereby invested with the duty of producing the next Ed McCafferey or Drew Bennett. Judging by this curriculum, you are up to the task:

Mr. Burns: Excellent, now what have you got for me?
Nick Kaczur: Nick Kaczur has become a snitch.
Nick KaczurMr. Burns: Tell me something I don’t know!
Nick Kaczur: Sometimes I go to the movies alone.

Pats starting offensive tackle Nick Kaczur got pinched in April for possessing a small amount of hillbilly heroin. Rather than face the music like a man In the interests of bettering his community, Kaczur offered up his dealer– engaging in some controlled buys while wearing a wire.

The dealer’s lawyer would have us believe his client is guilty of nothing more than being an overzealous, starstruck fan who warned Kaczur of the danger of his behavior. If he wasn’t charging him $3,900 for 100 pills, we might be more willing to believe the dealer was doing it out of the goodness of his heart. If being a snitch isn’t bad enough, Kaczur tried to run the okey-doke on the Globe reporter who broke the story:

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, bro,” Kaczur said repeatedly, in response to questions about the investigation. “I don’t know where this is coming from. I don’t know what you are talking about.”

I wonder if they had asked Kaczur about his team’s historic collapse in the Super Bowl if his memory would be so cloudy, “I don’t no nothing about losing the Super Bowl, bro. I’ve never even heard of David Tyree.”

This is Cincinnati Ben-Gal Olivia. Olivia, along with five other smoking hot fictional cheerleaders, writes for a well-known fictional NFL humor blog. Olivia told her blog-mates that she would take care of the Friday cheerleader post– a recurring fictional feature that had become somewhat of a fictional institution on their blog.

But for some reason Olivia never wrote the cheerleader post and all of the fictional people who read her blog were sad and confused. The other five fictional cheerleaders were so angry they stuffed Olivia into a fictional burlap sack and dropped her off the Roebling suspension bridge into the Ohio River. They agreed to tell Olivia’s friends that she became a hooker and moved to Beckowanckal Heights, a fictional city that is exactly like the very real city of Las Cruces, New Mexico in every detail. They’ve already started to forget what Olivia looked like…

Speaking of the Bengals, Ocho Cinco has been described by a Cincinnati lawyer as possessing “the mental agility of a small soap dish.” What an awful thing to say. A real cheap shot. Didn’t that mean old lawyer man ever stop to think that small soap dishes might have feelings too?

The New York Giants were awarded their Super Bowl Rings last night in a plush ceremony at Tiffany & Co. Meanwhile, a continent away, Oakland Raiders owner Al Davis commemorated his teams’ 2007 campaign my handing out cans of Dinty Moore® Beef Stew. The ritzy Manhattan affair was marked by a regal blue carpet leading to the famed jeweler’s front door. While on the west coast, Raiders owner announced the stew giveaway via an index card thumb-tacked to the bulletin board at the OTAs.

The rings, designed with input from the players, are worth an estimated $25,000 each. Said Eurydice Kleinschmidt, Special Project Coordinator for Tiffany’s, “This isn’t just a Super Bowl victory, it’s a New York Super Bowl victory. Everything has got to be bigger, brighter more exciting.” Davis scored the Dinty Moore for $7.99 per case. Floor Manager Gregg Sekelski of the Fremont Costco explained, “A few cases of the Dinty Moore fell off the forklift today. Some of the cans were dented, so we thought we’d have to throw them away. Fortunately this creepy old guy in old lady’s glasses bought them right up.”

“Winning a championship is great and all. But once you put that ring on your finger, it’s a whole other story,” gushed linebacker Kawika Mitchell. Davis was equally enthusiastic about his prize, “Stew keeps the boys from gettin’ the consumption or hip gout. Silly cabin haystack carburetor.”

Kevin Hench’s woefully anecdotal-dependent take on NFL fan behavior has sparked renewed interest in this YouTube clip which purports to show a Raiders fan stabbing a Chargers fan during a drunken stadium brawl. As KSK’s resident self-loathing masochist Raiders fan, I feel compelled to defend the S&B faithful on this issue.

I can see how at first blush one could conceivably jump to the conclusion that something felonious is afoot. But what a casual observer might mistake for bleary, blood-shot eyes is actually the learned gaze of a seasoned medical professional. Admittedly he possesses an unorthodox bedside manner, but check out the deft touch as he artfully removes the vestigial appendage in mere seconds.

Fare thee well, Chargers fan. You and your satin jacket will live to see another playoff flameout, thanks to the knowing hands of his modern-day Albert Schweitzer.

What Lofa might have looked like in happier times.

Seahawks linebacker Lofa Tatupu was arrested in Kirkland, Washington Saturday and charged with DUI after allegedly blowing a Busey-esque .015 .15 on the ole breathalyser. Tatupu, who signed a $42 million extension in March and has established himself as a Pro Bowl fixture, issued an apology through the team.

Living down the taint of lawless behavior is difficult but can be achieved after intense character rehabilitation and extensive public relations work. However, there is no erasing the stigma of getting popped while driving a Hyundai Accent. Tragically, Lofa will wear the shame of his choice of automobiles like the Mark of Cain for as many days as he remains on this mortal coil.

“Yo, this is Joe. Just heard you’re headed back to Naptown. Congratulations, man. We’re going to win another Super Bowl this year, man. But check this, I’m not a rookie like when you left. In fact, up in this bitch here, I am what you call an authority figure. Remember that corner couch at the complex– the one you used to be snoring on and shit between two-a-days? That’s my couch now. Keep your ass off. See how you like trying to sleep in a damn chair. Anyway, see you in a couple months and we will tear it up like the old days.

Oh yeah, and if you ever drink my grape Gatorade again, I’ll beat your ass. TOPPA THE FOOD CHAIN, MOTHERFUCKER!!!”

You might fool the fucks in the league office, but you don’t fool Jesus.

The only time that it is remotely fashionable to live in this town occurs in late April-early May in the run-up to the perverse bacchanalia commonly known as the Kentucky Derby. The race gives rise to a host of psuedo-celebrity events.

Last night, Terrell “I Don’t Do Straight Porn” Owens squared off against Kerry “$20M Guaranteed” Rhodes in a charity bowling event. The big contest was held at Lucky Strike Lanes, one of those trendy bowling establishments/ nightspots that popped up in any number of urban entertainment districts over the past few years. Frankly, these bowling facilities are an embarrassment to the word “alley.” I bet they don’t even serve good sarsaparilla.

Owens and Rhodes will also be hitting the good parties this weekend. I’m talking about the kinds of parties that have elaborate screening systems designed to keep schlubs like you out. The Patriots will be hitting the Barnstable Brown party en masse with Tom Brady, Randy Moss, Ted Bruschi, Wes Welker and Matt Cassell (!) all in attendance.

With the Pats, Bill O’Reilly, Carson Daley and Larry Birkhead all there, the douche-level at the place should be approaching China Syndrome status. Michael McDonald is cool though. I can sing just like him… WOO-WOO- WOOOOOOO!

[Note: I'll be in the middle of the infield madness tomorrow afternoon. Holler at your boy if you're going.]

CINCINNATI BENGALS WAR ROOM, two days ago

COACH LEWIS: Alright everyone, the draft’s about to start. We have the ninth pick overall. We’ve done a lot of research, and now it’s time for the payoff.

MIKE BROWN: What’s the latest on Chad, Coach? Are we getting good offers for him?

COACH LEWIS: We’re not trading him. Period. End of story.

MIKE BROWN: But what if we get the right offer for him?

COACH LEWIS: There have been no good offers for Chad. Period. End of story. [sips milkshake]

MIKE BROWN: Hey, wait a second. Where’d you get that milkshake?

COACH LEWIS: UDF. Why?

MIKE BROWN: No, I mean, who paid for it?

COACH LEWIS: Uhh, I expensed it.

MIKE BROWN: That means I paid for it. This is just the kind of thing that can ruin a franchise, Marvin.

COACH LEWIS: Really, I thought it might take something more drastic, like, oh I don’t know, your entire tenure as general manager.

MIKE BROWN: Lout!

COACH LEWIS: Honky! I oughta –

[door flies open]

THE DANIEL: Good afternoon, Mr. Lewis.

MIKE BROWN: This is a restricted area, sir. You’ll have to leave.

COACH LEWIS: Hang on, Mike. I’m running this draft. How can I help you, sir?

THE DANIEL: Gentlemen… I’ve traveled over half your state to be here today. I couldn’t get away sooner because my luxury suites were being renovated and I had to see about it. Those suites are now flowing at two hundred thousand dollars each and it’s paying me an income of five million dollars a week. So, ladies and gentlemen… if I say I’m a football man, you will agree.

COACH LEWIS: I don’t agree.

THE DANIEL: Shut up. You have a great chance here, but bear in mind, you can lose it all if you’re not careful. Out of all men that beg for a chance to take your wide receiver, maybe one in twenty will be football men; the rest will be speculators-men trying to get between you and your property-to get some of the money that ought by rights come to you. This is the way this works. I’m a family man- I run a family business. My name is Daniel Snyder. This is my son and my partner, H.W. Snyder.

H.W.: Hola.

COACH LEWIS: What is your offer? We’re wasting time.

THE DANIEL: I can offer you a first-round pick with a conditional third-round pick. If Chad has a successful season, we can upgrade that latter choice to a second-round, or even first round selection. If you’d like cash in addition to those two selections, then that’s fine.

MIKE BROWN: Two first-round picks AND CASH?!?! That’s pretty good.

COACH LEWIS: Chad Johnson is not for sale. Period. End of story.

THE DANIEL: I can guarantee to sign the deal today and put up the cash to back my word. I assure you, whatever the others promise to do, when it comes to the showdown, they won’t be there…

MIKE BROWN: [pulls Coach Lewis aside] Marvin, you have to take this deal. This is a great deal. I know because I know a lot about running a football team!

COACH LEWIS: We’re not trading him. Period. End of story.

THE DANIEL: Ah, you drive a hard bargain, Mr. Lewis. Let me sweeten the deal. I’ll throw in with my original deal, four alpacas and a year’s subscription to seventeen magazine.

COACH LEWIS: We’re not trading Chad. Period. End of story.

THE DANIEL: I’ll throw in 5 links of sausage and a harpoon gun.

COACH LEWIS: No.

THE DANIEL: Six bottles of whiskey and a my old Animal House DVD, along with my bootleg copy of Cumming Into Money Part 4. It’s bank robbery porn.

COACH LEWIS: No. Now please leave. We’re about to start the draft. [picks up milkshake, but it's empty] Hey, what happened to–

THE DANIEL: I DRANK YOUR MILKSHAKE! I DRANK IT UP!

MIKE BROWN: Hey, where’s your son?

THE DANIEL: I’VE ABANDONED MY CHILD! I’VE ABANDONED MY CHILD!

COACH LEWIS: [picks up phone] Can we get security in here, please?

MIKE BROWN: You should really keep an eye on your son.

THE DANIEL: DON’T TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY FAMILY! [runs out]

COACH LEWIS: You know, we could have used a couple good alpacas.

MIKE BROWN: Call him back if you want. Collect, of course.

ESPN is reporting that the Pac Man Jones to Cowboys trade is finally a done deal. The Titans get a fourth round pick and a conditional pick next year. Sounds like the Cowboys got Pac for a song. Not a good song either. I’m talking some of that Sufjan Stevens shit.