For those who didn’t charge off into the night midway through the broadcast intent on killing Tony Kornheiser for invoking Brett Favre’s name after every play, it was merciless offensive onslaught by the Saints, led by Drew Brees and Lance Moore. It was so overwhelming, in fact, even Jeremy Shockey showed flashes of competence. Meanwhile in the KSK live blog world, a furious maelstrom of cheese punnage broke out. The Saints obviously couldn’t get enough scoring, as they were still running trick plays up 20-plus points in the 4th quarter. Still, as bad a night as Aaron Rodgers and The Pack had, it certainly wasn’t as bad as this guy’s.

After the jump is the usual cavalcade of crowd oddities and video of Greg Jennings getting KTFO.
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The 49ers had a golden opportunity to steal a win on the road in the Pink Taco, but then took 30 seconds to kill the clock once they got down to the 2, then ran one running play that almost worked and one that had absolutely no chance of working. Shaun Hill, when called upon to do things greater than throw three-yard patterns to Jason Hill and dive for first downs without his helmet, screwed the pooch with an array of lasers and shovel passes to the defense. All part of God and TK’s script, it seems.

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A day after the Red Sox bowed out against the Rays, the Patriots resurrected their season, at least until their next lop-sided loss on national television. The Broncos, still without anything resembling a run defense, are back in full self-destruct mode following a hot start. That’s gotta be great news for all the other eminently unworthy teams in the AFC West. Patriots running back BenJarvus Green-Ellis has got to be a new favorite among fans of both conjunctive and hyphenate names. A real two-way threat, that one.

If there was any point to watching that game, and I’m still not sure there was, it was the discovery that only in Gillette Stadium can you get blackface and purpleface in one place, in support of the same player no less.
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Monday saw the further degradation of the once-juggernaut NFC Beast, as the Giants quickly lost patience with Brandon Jacobs simply running over the defense and decided to put the game in Eli’s hands. The Browns, with the Sharpie-scrawled helmets, a suddenly productive Braylon Edwards, Wildcat formation plagiarism and sans swole-nuts Winslow, shocked the world by intercepting all of Elisha’s poorly thrown passes that were forced into coverage. More troubling, however, was the absence of Suzy. We didn’t see her after the pregame. What gives, WWL?

Much as it troubles me to ever see the Browns win anything, the Gints definitely needed to be taken down a peg. A Giants fan felt the need to chat me up right before kickoff: “Tonight is a good night for sports. The Rays are curb-stomping the Red Sox and the Giants are about to throttle the Browns!”

Oops.
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Pro Football Talk, which is always right about these things, is spreading the rumor that Matron Saint Suzy Kolber is preggers or with child, or whichever other gormless idiom you use for pregnant. I prefer germinated. It sounds less appealing that way.

See, Suzy, you start hanging around NASCAR and, before you know it, you’re having kids out of wedlock. Sure, ESPN’ll be cool with it at first, provided you name the kid Norby or Norba, then tighten up afterwards. They’ll have the finest vaginoplaster money can buy.

PFT hears it’s a girl, no doubt bound to be thick in the britches. But what of the name? JET Kolber? Turtleneckesta? Chevy Tahoe, Jr.? You decide, commenters.

UPDATE: We have an idea who the father is…