In case you haven't heard, Peyton Manning and the Indianapolis Colts have a game this Sunday. Nobody's really sure who the opponent is gonna be, but everybody's pretty sure it doesn't really matter.

For some reason, the Saints have apparently taken a field trip to Miami to partake in the festivities. Must be one of those Sean Payton motivational techniques. Word is ESPN has arranged for a box full of Peyton Manning's jocks to be delivered to the Saints' hotel so that they can Smell Greatness.

The guys at the NFL Network seem to think that the opportunity to witness Manning's Forehead finish strong up close and personal will be of great help to the Saints in their continuing quest to someday be worthy of possibly stepping on the same field with the Colts. Maybe even in the Super Bowl! Excellent. Fingers crossed.

Meantime, the media seem to be really enjoying the Saints being there, despite the fact that nobody really knows why they're there. That doesn't really matter though, the important thing is it's given ESPN's Reischea Candidate about four thousand opportunities to say "N'Awlins"… you know, like "real New Orleanians" say it.

What do you mean, people from New Orleans don't actually say "N'Awlins?" Ever? Bullshit! Scoop Jackson told me they do! And I'm pretty sure he totally knows what he's talking about.

Oh yeah, they've been slingin' the local flavor all over that bitch, what with the beads and the gumbo and exposed breasts (Gregg, dude, you really do need to rein it in juuuust a bit) and such.

And don't even get them started on Drunk Drag Queen Bobby. That dude sure does talk funny, but I'll be damned if he ain't just a walkin' crazy-ass authentic Cajun fais do do. It's all just so damned quirky and fun!

Say, anybody find out who the Colts are playing yet? Anybody? Berman? LaCanfora? Schlereth? Bueller?

It's also giving them ample opportunity to bone up on their Daltrey impersonations, what with the first question of each Saints press conference being "Aaaaaw who the fuck are you?!?" They even occasionally line up a group to do the "Who who, who who" part.

That is, when some douchebag named Gregg Doyel isn't knocking shit down and barrelling through the throng to get to Kyle Eckel and shout "WHY DO YOU HATE OUR COUNTRY???? ARE YOU NOW, OR HAVE YOU EVER BEEN A MEMBER OF HAMAS?"

Know who doesn't hate America? Peyton Manning! Nor does he hate unborn babies! Unlike that heathen asshole Scott Fujita, who probably totally thinks it'd be just great to subject the viewing public to images of two men making out. And out of wedlock, no less! Hey, if two men are gonna engage in such behavior, they ought to at least get married first! Oh, wait…

Word is, CBS has arranged for Pat Robertson to do the opening coin toss. I had been assuming that he'd fix it in favor of the Colts, but then I remembered that Colts' WR Pierre Garcon is down with Haiti. Now I'm pretty sure the option to receive or defer will go to Tim Tebow.

If you didn't know better, you'd swear that this Super Bowl was being broadcast on FOX. Or FOX News.

Say, you think somebody at CBS went "D'oh!" when they realized that Carrie Underwood is an American Idol alumnus? I mean, I do realize that the Patriot Act specified that the National Anthem can now only be performed by white people with twangy accents, but they could at least have gotten Miley Cyrus or something.

On the other hand, they did book Queen Latifah to sing "America the Beautiful" and remind us that black people exist. High five!

Oh, I know what you're saying. "Wait a minute, hasn't it been years since Queen Latifah was black?" Common misconception, but yes, Queen Latifah is still in fact black. "CBS Black" but close enough. And if people don't buy it, they always have Dwight Freeney's ankle to fall back on.

Has it become obvious yet that I don't really have a whole lot to say about this game? The actual game, that is?

Hey, you've already read it all, watched it all, listened to it all, just like I have. And still, I have absolutely no idea how this thing is gonna play out Sunday. It's the very definition of a pickem game, no matter what Vegas or the media think. It could go either way. In a rout, or in overtime. Either team could score anywhere from 17 to 50. Both teams could score anywhere from 17 to 50.

All I know is that the Saints are every bit as good as the Colts. Depending on who you listen to, the Saints are either "loose" or nonchalant" about it all. Depending on who you listen to, the Colts are either "a little tight" or "typically businesslike." ¿Quién es más macho? "Experience" or "hunger?" To what extent will special teams, turnovers and the officials throw everything off-script and "x-factor" the shit out of the whole thing?

I know you come to moosedenied for balanced, intelligent analysis based on extensive research and football savvy. (We'll pause here for a second while mock applause fills the internet.) But what can I tell you? I just have no fucking clue.

What I do know is that if Dwight Freeney truly loves our country, he'll have to stand all the way through the six-minute 9/11 Anthem, and then the twelve-minute National Anthem, and then the seven-minute introductions of Tim Tebow and Brett Favre. Then he'll have to jog out to the 50 yard line for the coin flip. Then jog back to the sideline. Then, on the Saints' first play from scrimmage…

Sean Creese: Line up outside left tackle. Sweep the leg. I don't want him beaten, I want him out of commission. Out of commission. Do you have a problem with that, Mr. Dinkins?

And you thought the Saints' defense was "dirty." Hey, the media has already laid the rap on ya. Might as well go balls out with it.

Sure, you might take some heat for it in the short term, but far sooner than later, the "Oh yeah, Katrina" lightbulb will go off over somebody's head, and all will be forgiven on the basis of "how much it means for the city" and such. They fuckin' love that stuff.

I'd call that a bargain. The best I ever had.