Someone is benefitting from the entire Erin Andrews video scandal: hackers, who have taken the internet’s finally fulfilled obsession with ERIN ANDREWS NAKED and played it to their advantage by posting links to the peephole camera video taken of Andrews by a reprehensible person at a hotel, and then feeding requesting PCs a bushel of viruses.

The official EDSBS policy on this is that Ms. Andrews has been wronged grievously, and that the person behind this should be bankrupted not just for their invasion of her privacy, but also for their intrusion on the privacy of others. From what we understand, this was a completely random act, and in an alternate universe could have been you or us standing there getting our goods pasted all over the internet for profit. That her celebrity has exacerbated the initial violation is an even sadder occurrence, and far exceeds the reasonable cost of fame in its severity.

With that said, we feel we need to publish what we have in the name of full disclosure. New information has come to light, and we cannot sit on it any longer. We did not film this, nor do we intend to sell it. We do not claim it is in fact anyone in particular, and will not comment on any resemblances other than to say this: we have made this SFW, and that if this is who we think it is, then this could very well be the media scandal of the century.

You have been warned. (more…)

ESPN just released their announcer pairings for the fall, something we found via Pat Forde’s Twitter feed. We thank you and your majestic frontispiece of a hairstyle, Mr. Forde. It could cut a skirt steak dragged across it into fajita strips ready for the skillet.

The new arrangements for the fall:

Matt Millen’s Inexplicable Employment Continues. What Matt Millen has to offer to college football that Chris Spielman doesn’t is clear: the stigma of reeking, carrion-strong failure from being the worst GM in the history of the NFL. If the stench is real, his new broadcast partners Sean McDonough will have to wear a gas mask. This would probably be just as good as most in-game commentary, now that we think about it. Holly Rowe moves over from ESPN to join them for ABC Saturdays, and it will probably be a bit blander overall than the Spielman/McDonough combo since Millen’s not likely to say anything as cool as “hunt, dog, hunt!”

Spielman moves to work with Dave Pasch and Bob Griese, and they’ll be working the noon game on ESPN.

The Champagne Crew: Nessler, Blackledge, and Andrews keep the ESPN Saturday Prime Time slot, a.k.a. The Ron Franklin Suite. Musberger, Herbstreit, and Salters on Saturday’s Blue-Ribbon game stay strong, as well.

Caucasian Menudo: The trio of James, Fowler, and Palmer remain together, who for our buck were the most gregarious, entertaining, freewheeling, and surprising crew last year in how much fun they had in the booth together.

Palmer gets additional face time as an in-studio analyst on Saturdays, thus expanding the Gator Nation’s reach into even our most hallowed halls of power like College Football Live. The Jort Illuminati grows in power; we approve. Andrews remains with them, and should really just start brandishing a combat shotgun everywhere she goes.

James will also see a shuffle as he joins Mike Patrick and Heather Cox for Saturday broadcasts on ESPN. (more…)

On-Screen options: Press Y for team celebration/Go join the mascot to celebrate!/Press B to stalk sideline reporter.

Erin Andrews will join the cast of NCAA ‘10 for this year’s edition of the game that effectively spelled the end of our personal growth and development as a human several years ago. (Let’s be frank: it was scheduled for cancellation anyway.) She will do the sideline work in the game, and will be featured in a major mode in the game.

What that mode will be is unspecified, but if you’re thinking something along the lines of “Boonga Boonga,” you’re a terrible, sick person who needs some sunlight. You also will not be able to grind up behind her like Rey Maualuga did, though if you could in the game, an extra real bonus would be Rey vomiting up a six pack on her shoulder in celebration. [/superparanoiddraftguys!]

And now for the requisite page-whoring of typing Erin Andrews’ name twelve times in a row:

ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS ERIN ANDREWS .

Mel Kiper is the NFL Draft’s foremost expert. Today he assists us with his boundless expertise, and tell us exactly how the first three rounds of the genocidal madman draft are going to go down.

It’s been three months since Todd McShay and I updated our mock drafts. It’s time to shake them up a little bit and review our first three rounds.

Detroit Lions, Number One.

Winston Churchill, Great Britain. A true malevolent madman in the making. Comes from good genocidal madman stock, and a program–Cambridge–that knows how to develop and train that stock. Thick. Mean when he has to be. Superb skill set. Like all good genocidal madmen, prefers to wear suits.

St. Louis Rams, Number Two: Teddy Roosevelt. Another slam-dunk pick in the making. A hunter, not a gatherer. Killer instinct. Eyesight may be weak, but so is a rhino’s. They kill things all the time.

Kansas City Chiefs, Number Three: Joseph Stalin. I’m not sold on him: he lacks killer instinct, and thanks to his associations with the clergy may have too much mercy in him for the job. Poor communication skills with teammates. No cult of personality skills. I call bust, but he’s going here.

4. Seattle Seahawks. Woody Hayes. Has the rage you need for the position. (more…)

In this week’s published excerpts from Brent Musberger’s forthcoming autobiography, his ABC broadcasting partner Kirk Herbstreit revealed that they train as triathletes in the offseason to stay in shape, and that Musberger has rescued Herbstreit from archaeopteryx attacks in open water on four separate occasions. We have since been informed that our transcript was in error, and that Musberger rescued Herbstreit from sharks. The archaeopteryx has been extinct for millions of years. We regret the error.

“Clever girl.”

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