Today is Patriots Schadenfreude Day, which is always a supreme delight, but does come tinged by the knowledge that once it’s over, there’s still about 220 more days until meaningful NFL games are played. Womp womp. It’s no consolation, but we’ll have our usual array of KSK off-season features anyway. Some readers enjoy them as much or even more than our in-season content. Why? I have no idea, but we’re forever grateful to have people interested in our irrelevant rants about stupid things that bother us or mock drafts of breakfast cereals (Blueberry Morning FTW!) or which movie sex scene we’d most like to be featured breathing loudly in the corner.

Anyway, your Meast for Super Bowl XLVI is Mario Manningham. Unlike Super Bowl XLII, I have no real issue with Eli Manning winning MVP. Manningham’s game numbers weren’t all that impressive. Practically every other Giants skill player fumbled at some point. And except for a short stretch in the second half where he was tossing patented McNabb one-hoppers to his receivers, Eli played well throughout. Nevertheless, the Mannings are always gonna have people falling all over themselves to hand them awards, earned or not, they don’t need KSK’s fluffing prowess to boot. And there was no singular play in yesterday’s game more impressive than Mario’s catch. Not even close.

You Least for Super Bowl XLVI is…

WELKAAAAAHHHHHHHHH

Gutty drops of undersized heart. The best possible scenario for New England losing the Super Bowl would probably be Bill Simmons falling out a blimp above the stadium and deflecting a game-deciding kick as he plunged to the ground. But this was close. The Patriots receivers had many drops yesterday, none of which were as damaging or delicious as Welker’s.

Here’s Welkah postgame:

His voice, barely above a whisper, quavered as he deconstructed the dropped pass that stalled a potential victory-sealing drive.

Oh yeah. Journo sadness porn. Give it to me.

“The ball is right there. I’ve just got to make the play. It’s a play I’ve made 1,000 times in practice and everything else. It comes to be the biggest moment of my life and I don’t come up with it. It’s discouraging.”

Cris Collinsworth said live after the drop that Welker makes that catch 100 times out of 100, which is so stupid I half-expected Phil Simms to break into the booth with a surgical saw in order to try to get his brain back.

Kupel’s Bakery in Brookline is looking to create a bagel sandwich named for Wes Welker, and they’ve reached out to their Twitter followers for suggestions. Our submission follows, feel free to include yours in the comments.

Start with a plain white bagel made with triple-bleached flour. Coat one side of the sliced bagel with copious amounts of Miracle Whip for edginess, then apply a thin layer of grain mustard to the opposite side for enhanced grit. Top the bagel with a few slices of deceptively lean ham and a slice of American cheese. And dear god, make sure it’s American cheese, lest some Bostonian accuse you of being in cahoots with that shifty Garçon character.

Come to think of it, even the whitest bagel is still going to be a bit too Edelman-y to bear Welker’s name. Let’s switch it out for a couple of slices of Wonder Bread and call it a day.

Thanks to reader Peter for the tip.

It’s no wonder the Patriots have had to make do with guys like Randall Gay in the secondary the last few years. As soon as you wave some money in front of one of them, they chase it like a pack of dogs. Really makes you think about their culture. Asante, we’re glad to be rid of him. Receiver would’ve caught that Eli pass on the final drive.

Sometimes when I’m guttily charging through secondaries, I find myself taken aback with the conditions these people choose to play in. Players lazily strewn about. Little sense of cohesion. Defensive calls that don’t even sound like English to me. It’s all me, me, me. Have they no self-respect? It’s just so, so typical. I just pray my daughter doesn’t bring one home someday.

After the game, I head over into their side of the locker room, always making sure to remove my valuables first, and I hear them playing their jungle cornerback music. Rhythm is offensive to the ear. I caught Randy listening to some of it once and diced him with my pen knife. Over in the offense’s corner, we set the bass maximum at “Silverchair”. We keep things orderly, never speaking out of turn.

There are some find, upstanding exceptions. The “model secondary”. That John Lynch, for example. Did a great job in leading the Buccaneers to that Super Bowl. Hard-hitting. Straight shooter. Why can’t they follow his example? Instead they call him a shun him and call him a traitor to his kind. Because he works hard? These are a people I will never understand.

And don’t get me started on the blacks!

Larry Izzo hosts a karaoke event dubbed “Larryoke” and his Patriot teammates turned out in en masse. Since it’s for a good cause, we probably shouldn’t mock Wes Welker and the rest of the 18-1 choke brigade over this. But then Kyle Eckel has to go and do something like this…

To truly appreciate the hilarity, you have to view the entire photostream. No Brady, but not surprisingly, Matt Cassel is a capable substitute.

[ via: Busted Coverage ]

UPDATE: Commenter jm comes through with video goodness:

With Randy Moss already having been pictured with Miss Kentucky at the Derby, it’s good to see Don Chavez get this photo of Dr. Underneath showing off his pearly sallow whites to the camera.

Come now, Wesley. Leave the fellateface to Pats fans imagination. Simmons may not leave the house for weeks now. You know how nuts he goes for the white guy uvula. Or was that urethra?