Perhaps more than ever, this year promises to bring a unique level of excitement to the National Football League. Even after the Patriots historic run last season, the field is incredibly tight, and toward the end of the season, any team in the League could find itself within striking distance of a world championship.

I have to admit that my film study hasn’t been the same as in years past. This offseason, I only managed to watch 4, 295,813 hours of videotape on NFL teams, and that was while watching one game per eye, while reading play-by-play accounts of two other games in Braille with each foot. It’s true that age affects the performance of everyone in the National Football League, and those who cover it are no exception.

The Cleveland Browns will be hard-pressed to repeat their success from a year ago, as they play one of the toughest schedules in the league this season. Derek Anderson’s concussion in the preseason might affect his play, which could open the door for newcomer Brady Quinn. If he could be successful, the Browns would be the first team to reach the postseason with an openly gay quarterback, and an openly homophobic tight end. We could be witnessing history in the making.

Tonight’s game is going to be an absolute firefight, positioned on the flimsy arms of quarterbacks Eli Manning and Jason Campbell. My film study shows that Campbell has a much darker pigmentation than the younger Manning, which will give him difficulty at the quarterback position.

For tonight’s matchup I’ll be perched in my recliner with an assortment of British pornography. With the advent of DVR comes the ability to watch football whenever I choose. And while the start of a new football season stands merely hours away, only a different sort of videotape can quench the thrist of the loins.

Once again, the smoke has cleared, and two teams are set to square off in the culmination of a hard-fought season. And you know what that means: we’re only days away from another exciting year of Arena Football.

Why my network refuses to give this league year-round coverage will remain one of life’s great mysteries, along with creationism and why Japanese girls on subways never fight back.

By now you’ve noticed that Tom Brady was wearing a protective boot last week to protect the right ankle he injured during the AFC Championship. An injury to the plant leg can be absolutely devestating to a player not only at the quarterback position, but also the suspended congress position and the doggy-style position.

I’ve studied film on Brady and have noticed that such an injury can hurt the timing of his release point, and will limit his control of any significant output. There’s a good chance things will blow up in his face if he’s not careful. He’ll have to warm up extensively, but once the lights go on and gets that first shot out of the way, he can settle into a rhythm and distribute like a 19-year-old guard in a maximum-security juvy girls’ penitentiary.

Ben Roethlisberger’s comments about wanting the Steelers to find a tall wide receiver are a cruel reminder that SIZE DOES MATTER in the National Football League. Hines Ward could not have been pleased to hear the dissatisfaction of his quarterback, but this is the NFL, not Seoul House Restaurant on James Swart Circle, and Ward has to do more than regulary refill empty water glasses and memorize menu items by their coded letter-number combination. He’s gotta perform in the red zone and bring that fortune cookie to his quarterback’s table, or else it’s ahn nyung hee ke se yo for this not young slant-eyed homo.

If there’s one thing more homosexual than my choice of eyewear, it’s baseball season. ESPN’s own Pedro Gomez is gearing up for another year of covering the sport for the worldwide leader. I’ve been visiting Mr. Gomez on occasion, and I have yet to see him breaking down game film or studying the tendencies of the so-called athletes that he allegedly covers. This is conclusive evidence that Pedro Gomez is an illegal alien and must be deported immediately.

I’ve set up a makeshift 13-camera closed-circuit television system around his home, office, and La Bamba’s. I’ll be studying his tendencies, day after day, night after night, until I can find just the right opening to deliver a 25-yard toss of justice to my associates at The United States Immigration and Naturalization Service.

If Dana Jacobson needs a stripper pole for her Super Bowl party, maybe she should try this Pole. Heh. See? That’s funny because I’m Polish… Eh. Okay. I guess ethnic humor doesn’t work these days.

So by now you’ve heard that Joe Theismann, a close colleague and personal friend of mine, has been relieved of his assignment with Monday Night Football. You’ve also heard that I, Ronnie Jaws, will be assuming that role come next fall. I feel that Joe did an admirable job with that telecast, but I believe they wanted to go a different direction with me, because I watch more film than anyone.

Many insiders, including some at this network, are convinced that Brady Quinn is the best can’t-miss prospect in this year’s draft. As a former quarterback, two things leave me skeptical about the former Heisman Trophy candidate. I’ve done extensive video study on Quinn and learned all 31 of his deplorable tendencies. First, Quinn’s experience in Charlie Weis’ pro-style offense is offset by the fact that most of his success came against Caucasian defensive backfields. Also, lucious brown locks and rock-solid abs do not a quarterback make in this league. Baby Dreamboat will quickly learn that the NFL doesn’t let the pretty boys to the front of the velvet rope. The game film doesn’t lie, it is physically incapable of doing so.

As for the quarterbacks already in the league, the Cleveland Browns are taking a good look at Trent Green to be their signal-caller for 2007. Watching tape on Green from 2006 was like watching Steel Magnolias with the sound off with the remote up my ass, with the buttons facing the floor. Green was great at getting knocked out in Week 1 and little else. If the Browns reach a deal with Green, they should expect to get their asses OWNED, by my awesome notes from the film room and my limber anus.

Dana Jacobson is taking some personal time in the coming weeks. This is the point in the schedule where everyone, Ronnie Jaws included, has to bring the intensity up a notch. I will disguise myself as her comely Honduran servant, the one responsible for ironing the crotch seams in her pantsuits and stocking her refrigerator with fresh yogurt. In this capacity, I’ll be studying her tendencies, looking for a pattern and a means to exploit her weaknesses in the passing game and at the buffet table. And when the time is right, I will pounce upon my prey like a drag queen onto a free sample of AZT.

As for Indianapolis and their quest for a…What’s that? Peyton Manning was on Saturday Night Live? No, I don’t think I caught that.

Pro football is a tough business. If you want to achieve success in this league, take it from Ronnie Jaws, it’s all about getting an edge. That means long hours in the film room, studying tendencies on your opponent. I am a champion at film study here in Bristol, because I watch more film than all of you cocksuckers combined.

Before the Bears even left the field from their game last weekend, I was in the film room, breaking down tape of their defense, learning their tendencies. The focus is on Brian Urlacher, the anchor on that Cover-Two defense. He brings strength and awesome agility to that middle linebacker position. Expect him to clog the middle of the field and disrupt the passing game, and to clog about 7 or 8 blondes on his way to the parking lot after. He brings a veteran presence to the vagina. That’s what the videotape tells me.

Tony Romo will soon be starting a long offseason and he’ll work to build on his Pro Bowl effort. He will need that time, because come next fall, I will have watched so much tape on Manos des Manteca that I will OWN his ass. This summer, I will be dissecting his weaknesses like a gaddamn amphibian in a high school lab. He’ll be the immagrant stock boy in the Ronnie Jaws Wal-Mart of life. That’s how I get THE EDGE, you little faggots. Teams will be sending more pressure and disguising their coverages to leave his pensamientos in utter ruin. Holy shit, somebody call Maintenance and get this ass groove in the couch here bronzed. This film room is my fucking domain.

I asked our own Shelley Smith out for drinks tomorrow night. She’ll be flying in from San Diego and I’ll pick her up around 8. Scouts like her large frame and blocking ability, but her foot speed and field awareness make her weak against the pass. I’ve been studying NanniCam footage of Smith for two weeks, and I will blow away her usual night of (a) Healthy Choice pizza bread and (b) masturbating to her TiVo backlog of Gray’s Anatomy and Ace of Cakes. Look for Ronnie Jaws to rush from all angles and fill those gaps, and hopefully Shelley will utilize ball control and make a few plays. On my cock. My incredible film study will compensate for my modest girth, and I will be unstoppable.

The Colts have to wonder…hang on, I’m getting a Picture Mail from Sean Salisbury. This should only take a minute…