Gregg Doyel

It was bad, but not as bad as usual. Dumb, but not as dumb as usual. I've got to go to get on Jim Rome's radio show, because I'm that big-time.

If Freeman's nice to me on the way back to the radio area, I'll mention his name on the air.

It took a while, but the clown show is kicking into gear. No, not Freeman. He's not that bad, people. You leave him alone.

There's a woman from Telemundo TV wearing a short -- short -- cheerleader skirt and a tight halter top with the No. 69. She suckered Steelers backup Lawrence Timmons into showing her how to hike the ball. With nothing but a microphone to act as the football, she bent over and let Timmons reach around her and shove the mic between her legs, up the back and out, like a center would send a football to the quarterback.

Steelers WR Santonio Holmes chose that moment to look at Timmons. Interrupting an interview -- my interview, frankly -- in mid-sentence, Holmes blurted, "LT, what are you doing?"

Several feet away, Entertainment Tonight has set up a makeshift dance floor out of pergo. A woman in a ballroom gown -- revealing gown, I should say -- conned Steelers long snapper Jared Retkofsky into dancing with her on the floor. The media stood three-deep to watch, and chonicle. Including me.

Good heavens I suck.

Unreal. Parker, the Steelers' running back, just allowed the following when asked about being the favored team:

"If we get caught with our pants down and have a bad day," he said, "they could possibly beat us."

Possibly?

I'll say that much for the New York Giants linebacker. He's trying to conduct interviews. He's not any good at it, but then he's working for Best Damn Something Punctuation, and that show isn't long for this world, so it doesn't matter.

But every time I turn around, Pierce is looming with his microphone, trying to ask a player a question. The question is always somehow about himself, like when he asked the Cardinals what they would call their Super Bowl ring if they won one, like he calls his ring "Ten-Pack" or something like that. Or the time he asked Steelers RB Willie Parker about backup RB Rashard Mendenhall for the sole purpose of explaining how he, Pierce, was hoping to drill Mendenhall this season before Mendenhall suffered a season-ending injury.

Keep trying, Antonio. You'll get better.

You can't get any worse.

Let me tell you what boxing -- which I do for fun and competition, by the way -- does for me. At times like this, when I'm surrounded by hundreds of media members, I think to myself: I could beat up every single person here. All of them. One at a time. Let's go.

I say that because I'm still stinging from reading Freeman's blog, and I think I'm going to start a fight with him, if I can find him. If I can't, there's a radio guy from Los Angeles walking around in a coonskin hat. I think I'll beat him up first. Then Freeman.

I've always wanted to be a bully.

Super Bowl Media Day brings out the worst in me, I think.

Here come the Steelers. Maybe I'll just punch out Ben Roethlisberger. Deck him and then ask him if he'll wear a helmet now.

I don't care if he works for Showtime or some other subsidiary of CBS, assuming he still does. I don't follow his career. Sorry. Sue me.

But he's here, and he bugs me, and I'll tell you why: Because he's here holding court in the lunch room, at a table with his name on a card like he's some draw or something, and of course the media is gathered around him because at the end of the day we're a bunch of moths looking for a lightbulb. And Warren Sapp is the closest thing to a lightbulb between the media sessions with Arizona, which just ended, and the Steelers, which starts in 15 minutes.

So the media bugs me, too.

And Sapp apparently is the media, so he double bugs me. He's wearing a visor, upside down, which makes him cool I think. And he's talking about the game like he has any idea what's going to happen. Sorry. He bugs me.

Plus Freeman is ripping me on his blogasm and that stings.

I take it back, take 2. There is a clown here, and his name is Mike Freeman. He's spending all his time ripping me. I'm on the field interviewing people and noticing stuff for you, fair reader, and Freeman is ripping me.

Unbelievable.

When I get promoted again, soon, I'm laying him off.

Turns out, there is something more painful than the stupid media tricks from Super Bowl Media Day.

The lack of stupid media tricks.

The economy hasn't been kind to anyone, but it has been especially brutal to the media, with entire news organizations folding and everyone cutting back, some drastically. And the circus seems to have closed, because the clown element at this year's Media Day is muted.

Other than the guy in the dress and bowa, there's nothing completely objectionable about media day. No idiots with board games begging players to play. No tramps in see-through clothes. Very little to complain about.

Only thing I'll tell you now is that the hottie interviewer from Showtime spent some time interviewing Inez Sainz, the infamous vamp from TV Azteca. One hottie interviewing another. If you like that sort of thing.

And his name is Matt Leinart. Why? Because Leinart just blew off the most embarrassing "media" member here at Super Bowl Media Day.

This guy -- not Leinart -- is a real piece of manure. He's walking around in a red dress, showing off his awful back and his hairy underarms, and he has a fake red feather bowa and a blond wig. He's a clown, a total attention-seeking clown, and he's walking around to various members of the Cardinals and interviewing them for his TV station, which I won't mention here, other than to say it's somewhere South of the border. That's all you get.

Anyway, he goes up to Leinart and yells, "Oh my God, Matt Leinart! Como estas?"

Leinart stops, stunned, and the guy moves in with his camera and asks a question, something about being hot or sexy or something. Leinart looks at him ... and walks off.

The TV guy in the red bowa and dress says, "Matt Leinart just blew me off. Can you believe that? Cono."

I love Leinart.

Until I write about him tomorrow. Ahem.

I hate this day. OK? I hate it. I should love it, because this is the day I get tons of interviews done for stories I'm going to dazzle you with write throughout this week. But I hate it, and I'll tell you why:

Because the "media" part of "Super Bowl media day" embarrasses me.

In a few minuts when they open the gates and let the animals out, we'll come charging out with our sexy tramps and our goofy dorks and our radio announcers who think it's clever to show up dressed like a wizard or a fairy or playing the game "Rock 'Em Sock 'Em Robots" with a Pittsburgh Steeler or with an Arizona Cardinal.

The media is awful. Some of them. But some of them is enough to make all of us look bad. What do the players think of us as we tromp around in our ridiculous outfits? They think we're idiots. And I agree.

Oh, and get a load of this one guy. He shows up in a baggy bowling shirt and uncool slacks, and he's sitting in the first row of the media shuttle bus wearing his iPod, like he's going to play in a game himself. He's concerned about the wireless set-up here, and he's asking me lots of questions.

Mike Freeman is such a dork.