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Le Draft...the finishing school for NCAA football's finest had their annual pick 'em over the weekend in what may be modern sport's most overrated non-event, and as always, "underwhelm" doesn't start to cover how unimpressive the draft is as sportstainment. Aside from watching Mel Kiper Jr. living his own real-life version of "One Angry Dwarf" in front of millions of people--if you really want to see me, check the papers and the tv-- there's little to hold the eye as NFL personnel people get all lascivious talking about well-developed thighs as they pick fat defensive tackle after fat defensive tackle in a complete inversion of who you considered to be a total badass on the collegiate level.

Well, Gerard Warren looked like a football player--at least to Butch Davis.

This is true...unless we're talking about Vernon Davis, the Omega Man tight end from Maryland who got a top ten pick from San Francisco. In addition to being Satan's bodyguard-scary at the college level, Davis completed a manly trifecta by not only getting a top ten pick, but by crying like a two year old who just fell out of their high chair as he was picked, instantly bringing millions of viewers to tears as only a man who can deadlift the entire nation of Paraguay can do. (When a big man cries, you are biologically hardwired to cry along, lest he assuage his grief by punching you in your dry-eyed, heartless face.) The Conscience of a Nation, sitting on the couch next to us, made this pithy observation.

Orson: Wow. He's totally breaking down.

Conscience of a Nation: You know why he's crying right?

OS: Why?

COAN: Because he's thinking about how rich he just became and how much pussy he's going to get. (Begins rolling from side to side on couch, mock-weeping.) So much money...(rolls to invisible pile of pussy) much pussy...(repeats humorously for minute or so. We married genius.)

There's Berman, too, another reason to ram the nearest weighty object through your television screen with extreme predjudice.

Berman put in his usual scrofulent performance on Saturday, rolling in from his latest tryst with an ESPN groupie without doing an ounce of prep. It showed, too, as he trumped each surprise pick by smirkily hinting well before the camera switched to show the pick talking on the phone to team reps; he spent the remainder of the broadcast stammering badly, dropping cues, and looking like he'd just spent the morning under a tanning bed eating shovel loads of macadamia nuts. The comment thread on Deadspin comforted us in one respect: many who had the NFL network skipped getting the case of sports herpes that is Berman by watching their coverage instead, leaving only the dregs of society who don't have it to follow along as the Worldwide Leader let their problem child drag out wretched 1978 musical references and generally drag down the quality of the broadcast to community channel issues forum level.

Berman, shown here demonstrating the kung-fu style that keeps him at a mean 480 pounds.

We're starting a fund to see him beaten on national television. Please contribute--for the children, people. For the children.

Paul's got an excellent regional piece on people who shouldn't have come out at all in the draft, which may turn into "total draft day steals" later on, of course--the draft has little to no effect on team parity or team success, so why not trash it and go with something more flamboyant, like a live schoolyard pick 'em? Or manatees picking out balls with players' names on them? Anything would beat the current system, where everyone but the Patriots utilizes a silly system of metrics that emphasize faux-athletes and slackjaw-obvious picks from the genetic mutant barrel of college athletes.

A few things did surprise us, though:

1. Dee Webb. True, it takes a genius to realize that when you draft Dee Webb, you draft the power of an entire sovereign nation. But Webb's leap to the pros fell drastically short of what he could have been with another year's pub and development. He'll barely be able to afford his massive defense budget on a seventh rounder's salary, much less the commemorative statues of himself that will decorate the corners of his republic.

2. Norm Chow picks...Vince Young? The Titans had an open shot at Leinart, who flourished in Chow's attack at USC, and instead opted for the more McNairish Vince Young. Norm Chow, who had to have some significant level of input here, effectively bypasses his protege for the qb who beat said protege in the Rose Bowl. Cue gayish mandrama unfolding up ahead...

3. Marcus Vick's interview Saturday. Among other bizarre proclamations--like saying that he'd go down as the better lifetime passer in the NFL--Marcus Vick also did and said the following things:

--Would "spread his seed across all eight continents, including Stankonia and Antarctica."

--Is the God Darren Daulton talks to daily.

--Gave a shout out to Monique in Newport, who needs to chirp him on his Nextel.

--Bodily threatened Chris Mortensen with a pike on camera.

Suprisingly, the entire NFL passed on drafting Vick, who may be seen on your local Arena League 2 team or in a Statue of Liberty outfit this coming winter.

Marcus Vick: coming to a roadside near you. Duck!