Super Mario vs. One of Those Gay Manning Koopa Kids. WHO YA GOT?

Hey, it's a match-up for former number 1 picks who actually panned out into pretty good players. What's more, it's a situation in which the two players actually interact with one another, not like when two superstar players who both play offense or defense happen to be in the same game and we have to pretend one's performance can affect the other. Hey, look Purple Jesus put 125 on the 'Skins. He totally shut down Clinton Portis! Anyway, WHO YA GOT?

Contestants

Mario Williams_______Peyton Manning

No. 1 pick of

2006 NFL Draft_______Unimaginative advertisers everywhere


Power ups

Stars, mushrooms, flowers, construda__Gesturing frantically at line, buttsecks

Helped by

Warp pipe to quarterback_______Hiding in Elisha Koopa's squash fortress


Made famous by

Being better than Reggie Bush___Sticking Captain N's light gun up his chute


Rides

Kart________Chesney, on a cart


Can fly if

Wears a yellow cape_______Loafers get light enough

Favorite environment

Water level__________Fire (Island) level

Finishing move

Saves princess___________Surgery to become princess

Another Maddenoliday Miracle

Scoff all you want that Maddenoliday is just another holiday fabricated by Proctor & Gamble in order to sell trinkets and moon pies. I know better. EA Sports and Tiburon are beneficent forces in this world and one day you, too, shall understand.

Madden has become a cultural totem in the sense that people with little knowledge of football and video games can use it as a means to belittle those who do. And we need that. Without cultural shorthand, we'd actually have to try things before dismissing them as ridiculous.

It's also a pretty fun game.

In the days when I was dewy-eyed, filled with wonder and had disposable income, I would reserve my copy of Madden in advance, not realizing that if you just went to Toys 'R' Us on the release date, they had 38 copies available while all the Herbs were clamoring at gaming stores.

But I miss the connection that only comes with rampant consumerism and misplaced priorities. So, to commune with my fellow Maddenites, last night before the midnight release I went to the nearest videogamery, which is the Gamestop on Duke Street in Alexandria, Va.

When I arrived at 10 p.m. to behold the assembled dregs, there were only two guys waiting outside the store. Hardly the throng I expected. One was a short, squat black guy in a Jason Campbell jersey. I thought it might have been the Maj, but he was carrying less than an ounce of weed.

The gate barring the front door was shuttered but you could see the store employees milling around inside.

I asked if they knew whether they'd reopen at midnight to sell the game. One of them said the store would start taking money at 10:10 and people would have to come back at midnight, because the store wouldn't want to do any of that direct money for goods shit.

A store employee peeked through the gate to tell the guy they were moving it back to 10:15.

"Okay, okay, I'm gonna wait here," he told the clerk. "So you better open up at 15. 'Cause if you're not open at 10:15, I'm calling Alexandria poe-lease and report you."

After four minutes I decided I'd had enough.

I didn't take any pictures of the two guys but on the way back I snapped this one of a humorously named Chinese carryout near my home.

Oh, and I think this Madden has gang tackles or something. And a roster update, which is all most of us ask of it. Excelsior!

Try to Tackle the Juice and He'll Cut Your Ass

Remember OJ? He's back! In pog video game form!

You might have heard about this new game, All-Pro Football 2K8 (that's gamer language for "Too Kate" -- which I assume is a a tender dedication from the game's programmer to e-lover). It's the one that couldn't get licensing from the NFL so they simply created their own fictional franchises and stocked the rosters with former NFL legends. While the game's cover features such respectable citizens as John Elway, Jerry Rice, and Barry Sanders (very careful to put the white guy in the middle) the real star is on the inside...

(watch it all, the highlight comes at the very end).

Now let's recap...

You've got OJ Simpson in a video game. Fair enough.

You make OJ the star player on a team called The Assassins. Pretty Questionable.

Your mascot for the Assassins is a giant, hooded, knife-wielding maniac who celebrates touchdowns with a stabbing motion? Bellissimo!

I find this intriguing and I believe it's my duty to expand on the idea. Here are my suggestions for All-Pro Football 2K9 (e-bestiality is not cool!)...

Player
Rae Carruth
Team
The Toofers
Mascot:

Player
Ricky Williams
Team
The Bong Squad
Mascot:

via BreakTaker.com

Player
Mark Chmura
Team
The Predators
Logo:

Players
Jerramy Stevens and Leonard Little*
Team
The Breathalyzerz
Mascot and Logo:

*at least one of them should be out of the league by then.

We welcome your Player/Team/Mascot (and/or logo) suggestions in the comments.

High Risk Insurance/The Time is Right

[Dialtone]

Esurance customer associate: Hello, how may I help you?

Vince Young: "Everyone imposes his own system as far as his army can reach."

Esurance customer associate: ...excuse me? Hello? Sir?

VY: "God gave Noah the rainbow sign. No more water, the fire next time."

ECA: I'm not quite sure what you're trying to tell me, sir.

VY: Goddammit! Your ad says quote, buy, print. How many more quotes I have to give you?

ECA: Oh. [laughs] You misunderstood. It means you can log onto our web site, provide your pertinent personal information, get a price quote, buy a policy and print it out at home.

VY: I knew I shoulda gotten Jeff Fisher to do this. But his dialing hand is all worn out from the fist pumping.

ECA: Maybe you can explain to me what you're trying to do and I can refer you to the correct department.

VY: Okay. EA Sports just told me they're gonna put me on the cover of the next Madden game. Now, I love the Madden game. If books were like the Madden game, I would have read every book since NFL Proust Reading '92, with the fuzzy graphic words that get tackled as soon as they run into an opposing word. But bad shit always happens to people who get put on the cover so I need some Vince Young insurance.

ECA: Well, sir, we're an auto insurance company. We don't put policies out on athletes.

VY: Yeah, auto, as in automatic. Gimme some of that automatic insurance.

ECA: That's auto as in automobile insurance.

VY: Fuck. I just talked to Mike Vick and he explained all the bad experiences he had being on the cover. Now he even insures his weed. Against fire damage, no less. I don't know how he found a company willing to do that. He was watching TV when we were on the phone and your commercial came on and he wanted me to call to ask if the girl from your commercials could save him from his evil robot coffee maker. And while I was at it, I should get some insurance.

ECA: I haven't the slightest idea how help you.

VY: Hmmm. Can I just talk to the cute pink haired girl?

ECA: You mean Erin Esurance? She's a fictional mascot the company uses for advertising campaigns.

VY: Yeah, she's probably out on a classified mission or something. You tell her I liked that touchdown she scored against the blizzard robot. I'm gonna try that shit against Jacksonville.

ECA: I...uh...

VY: She's also had baseball and basketball commercials. That's one sporty chick. I bet she puts some baseball eye black around her snatch. I'd like to give her some of my patented sidearm delivery. KnawhaI'msayin'?

ECA:...

VY: You're right. My mechanics are kinda bad. That's why I did so bad on the Wonderlic. I tried to write all my answers on the side of the paper. Man, side of the paper is less than a millimeter thick. I must only got, like, five answers on there.

ECA: ...

VY: Anyway, you need to tell her to leave that mumbly caesar haircut-having white dude she's with. Then again, he's probably one of those smart-ass Herbs that girls hang around to cheat off on tests. Girls are clever like that.

ECA:...

VY: All right, well, fuck this shit. I'll be fine. But I gotta run though. Albert Haynesworth wants to practice his stomping action on my throwing arm. Y'know, toughen that shit up.