After a painstaking process of pulling random names out of our ass (ASS DON’T LIE) and briefly scanning stats to make sure players weren’t better than we remember, we here at KSK have produced the definitive list of the most average NFL players ever. Never mind that entire generations of players aren’t represented. THEY WERE JUST TOO GOOD BACK THEN. Anyway, feel free to argue and complain, as we’re likely wrong about most of these. It’s not like anyone is going to prove us wrong, unless Football Outsiders runs the numbers and calculates which players hewed most closely to replacement level for the longest, in which case someone will actually have proved us wrong. Until at that time, this will have to do.

Also worth nothing: we’re aware some of these players were named to a Pro Bowl. We’re confident that that Pro Bowl season is surrounded by enough mediocrity or meager production for their career to be considered quintessentially average on the whole. We’re not disqualifying a cornerback from the list just because of a statistical aberration that caused them to make the Pro Bowl for having eight picks one year just because the ball bounced their way or quarterbacks repeatedly threw on them. So there! And now, the list!

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I support making the Football Solstice a recognized holiday with its own set of debauched rituals. However, given that the day after the Super Bowl is still a regular workday, it’s probably pretty far down the docket. Just get the greeting card industry in on the ground floor. We’ll have this as a federal holiday within a year.

- Brady child number three on the way! Second with Gisele if you’re keeping score. This one is definitely getting weird name. But what? Bradinho? Gritty Ivy? Please let it be a for-real Troll Brady.

- Kellen Winslow traded to the C-Hox. Dallas F*ckin’ Clark signed with the Bucs. It’s a run on veteran pass-catching tight ends! And yet still no one wants Jeremy Shockey. :(

- The Cowboys’ and Redskins’ cap penalty appeal was struck down by an arbitrator. At long last, a hard-colluded victory for collusion!

Ooh, ooh, I wanna play Ginger darts!

- So it seems the Pro Bowl is not only not dead, but it might be hosted in New Orleans the week before the Super Bowl. Peter King says that if Goodell is on hand, it will be the most awkward Pro Bowl ever, except for all the other ones.

- Ufford’s SB Nation video operation got NFL rookies to interview each other at the NFLPA trading card photo shoot. But, if the players start interviewing each other, what will media whores do? Besides write 4,000 words about their vacations?

The Broncos, like most teams, began OTAs yesterday, giving content starved NFL writers the chance to throw together entries like “WHOOOOA PEYTON DID FOOTBALL THINGS IN A NEW BRONCOS JERSEY”. Such is May.

Anyway, the media onslaught is on in Denver and everyone is scouring desperately for Pey-Pey nuggets. Radio reporter Brandon Krisztal asked the totally necessary question of what it feels like for Peyton to look up to rookie QB Brock Osweiler, who at 6’7″ is about two inches taller than Pey-Pey.

Rather than issue the typical rote response to an inane question, Peyton makes shorty short jokes about the little wimpy reporter boy. SO MEAN. Sorry not all of us have three feet in head height. Way to bite the hand that gives handjobs, champ.

Is Pey-Pey reaching out to pat the reporter on the head? Or is he saluting Hitler? NO WAY TO TELL.

Anyway, this is all report of a poorly constructed fantasy in which Peyton’s last neck surgery somehow made him evil. Man, that would be fantastic.

Tim Tebow posed for a picture with the Broadway cast of “Rock of Ages” on Saturday. Someone posted the picture on Twitter, which prompted a request from Tebow’s reps that the image be taken down, apparently because even the loosest association with theater types makes you a big unrepentant homo in the eyes of the church.

- In other Teebs news, the NFL has stepped in to put the kibosh on that “MY Jesus” shirt that Tebow’s people had no business fighting in the first place. It’s also been reported that the Tebowing celebration will be featured in the next Madden game, because, along with making Simms and Nantz the featured announcing team, EA Sports is trying its best to make the next version of the game as repellent as possible.

- Victor Cruz’s salsa dance will make the game as well. OH WHEW. Though at least they won’t be as corny as NBC and tack on the Latin rhythm soundtrack.

- Antonio Cromartie’s wife (and mother of two of his kids and counting) earlier this month reportedly faked a suicide attempt because she thought Cro was cheating on her. Though if you’re interested in even less responsible parents, here’s a Tennessee man who has fathered 30 kids with 11 different women. Just giving Cromartie a target to aim for.

- Pierre Garcon and Brandyn Thompson collided with Mike Shanahan at practice today during a 7-on-7 drill. The collision left Shanny on the ground and motionless for nearly two minutes. Welp, those two are cut.

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In a show of force by new head coach Greg Schiano, who seems eager to prove that he’s a true Belichick disciple, the Buccaneers will either trade or release tight end/soldier Kellen Winslow because he skipped the start of the team’s “voluntary” OTAs. More damning to us is that the week before Winslow had been DJing in Vegas and saying things like “Creed was awesome.”

Such laxity will not stand in the Schiano regime, for the new coach wants what he calls “Buccaneer Men”. That’s less a team philosophy than it is a name for the worst musical ever. But what qualities comprise a Buccaneer Man? Flamboyant ones, no doubt. We turned to one of those swashbuckling, seafaring types for insight:

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When we last left Monday Morning Wicket Wanker, Peter King, he was extolling his love of breastfeeding, so long as it’s done where prying eyes that aren’t his own can’t see it. He also let us in on the lofty life and times of Nicholas Katzenbach, the prison camp book reading champ. Petey also learned that blueberries in your beer cannot stack up to citrus.

So what about this week? Did Peter King recreate an album cover from this obscure band of his youth called The Beet Als? Who is the Carlos Baerga of cricket? And what of wombats? Ted Koppel implores us to want to know. READ ON.

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We know you’ve been dying to know the affairs of Jon Kitna ever since Neckbeard replaced him as the guy to back up Tony Romo in Dallas. Well, it turns out Kitna is pursuing the career he thought he was going to have all along: teaching. The Seattle Times has the story about how Kitna never expected to make the NFL coming out of Central Washington University and how he assumed he would go right into the classroom. He’s there now, teaching math class and coaching football at the most disadvantaged school in the district. A noble calling, surely, but I’m mostly concerned with the above photo and caption.

Former Seahawks quarterback Jon Kitna watches as a student gives him 10 push-ups at the end of class after losing a bet he could throw a piece of paper across the room and land it in the trash can.

“THOMPSON! You call that a parabola!? That wasn’t anywhere near the can. Need to check your work, son. Now get up here and hit the deck. I want 12 sets of push-ups and the rest of you pukes are gonna give me the standard deviation or you’re gonna be up here with him.”

I also love the fact that Kitna, like all truly befuddled public school teachers, is completely confounded by how to work the overhead projector.

Start with the fact that Kitna is used to learning a playbook, not putting one together for the day’s lesson. Throw in the overhead projectors and the graphing calculators — which Kitna didn’t use in high school — and, well, there are times when staring down a blitz would feel more comfortable than standing in the pocket of his classroom.

“The technology is completely overwhelming,” Kitna says.

To be fair, I’m not sure I ever really knew how to operate a graphing calculator, either. That is, except for the set of games that I got one of the smart kids to install on my TI-82.

Previously this off-season, Ray Lewis randomly appeared before the Stanford men’s basketball team to give them a pep talk before an NIT semifinal, an occurrence that yielded the bizarre motivational phrase “be pissed off for greatness”. Because it’s Ray-Ray’s inevitable post-football fate to roam the Earth in search of competitors to abruptly fire up, only to return to the shadows once his subjects are screaming and baying for blood, Ray Lewis dropped in on the Loyola Greyhounds lacrosse team last week in advance of a NCAA quarterfinal match against Denver. Lacrosse, of course, wasn’t on Ray’s radar until the George Huguely murder trial. We hear Ray’s a big, big fan now.

God’s Linebacker implored the Loyola players to think of teamwork as tantamount to pedaling a bicycle. Unless that’s a tandem bike, I’m not sure exactly how that applies, but when Ray Lewis stage whispers it at you with that horrifying glint in his eye, it probably doesn’t much matter if the logic holds up, ’cause your fight or flight instinct has already been triggered.

It’s worth noting that Loyola did in fact go on to defeat Denver, meaning that Ray-Ray talked-up teams are 2-0 this off-season following his pregame intensity seminars. That can only mean that more teams are going to request his services. I’m afraid it’s just not that easy, though. It’s a mystifying process through which Ray Lewis chooses who is worthy of his pep talks. Some say the best way to court him is through a sky high motivational speaker fee. Others say it’s just a matter of turning off the lights in the bathroom and yelling “THE U” four times into mirror. There’s no way of knowing for sure until he springs a speech on you and your sporting compadres.

After a three-week hiatus, your very fearful leader has returned to his post for Sexy Fridaying. If there’s one thing I’ve noticed over that span, it’s that Burnsy is very good about picking a theme and sticking to it, whereas I just haphazardly spray sexiness in all directions. Clearly this is a sublimation of our respective love-making styles. You’re welcome for the visual, btw.

Moving along, another week of dreadful offseason inactivity has been slogged through. Next weekend is Memorial Day weekend, which is the unofficial start of summer for just about everybody. Drew is already dreading it, but since I don’t have three dozen children to attend to, I can be content welcoming the swelter and the skimpy outfits that go along with it. Anyway, enough talk of seasons and children, there’s sexy to be had.

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Last fall, Hank Williams, Jr. was famously relieved of his duties of riling up his rowdy friends after he broke invoked Godwin’s Law when talking about Obama. With time on his hands and booze on his breath, The NOC imagines what it would be like if the UEFA Champions League final enlisted his services for a pregame hoedown. I’ll be the first to say SIMPSONS DID IT! Still not as weird to me as the fact that Hank sang in Spanish during his final appearance on Monday Night Football.

- The Texans are the latest team to turn down “Hard Knocks”. Awww. Now we’ll never get to know what the Houston Chimera is really like behind the scenes. After all the bitchy lobbying that Peter King did on their behalf, they have the gall to do this? Name five things more disappointing. You can’t.

- Ookie wedding! Michael Vick is getting married on June 30 in Miami to Kijafa Frink. Frink? GLAVIN! Among the notable guests if Ookie mentor THE DUNGE, who will leave the reception in a huff the second any hippity-hop is played.

- LeSean McCoy received a five-year, $45 million extension from the Eagles. He also got an apology from Osi Umenyiora for that weird Mother’s Day dig on Twitter. Can’t imagine which of the two he’s more excited about.

- Redskins long-snapper Nick Sundberg has a giant Greek Mythology scene tattooed on his back. The war is nice, but we’re gonna need to see a lot more man-boy love for it to be truly faithful to the source material.

- Lawrence Taylor reportedly wasn’t the one who put his Super Bowl XXV ring up for auction. It was LT’s son who did it without telling his dad first. I don’t steal from my father and he’s not a tenth as crazy as Lawrence Taylor, so I imagine TJ has already used the auction money to flee the country and change his name.

- The Packers say they will formally retire Brett Favre’s number, but are waiting a year or two to do it, “when it is more meaningful to 4“. I see right through this ruse. Green Bay is totally waiting for ol’ Brittfar to publicly disgrace himself yet again so the team won’t get grief for disavowing any connection. Canny strategy. Let’s hope it works out.