Why is Ben Stiller such a TV whore? Why is Steve Carell so funny? Why, I think we’ve just plugged a couple movies without even knowing it.

Why isn’t the commissioner of the More Taste League some smokin’ hot chick instead of that guy from Scrubs?

Why is Tony Kornheiser trying to convince me that Peyton Manning gets no respect? Has he not noticed the twenty-five gazillion commercials featuring the Colts quarterback?

Why Carrie Underwood? Why?

Why does Ron Jaworski think that Jacksonville can’t run the ball on every down? Why, I think the Jags just scored a touchdown after 10 consecutive running plays. Why doesn’t Jaws just shut the hell up?

Why does anyone let Mike Tirico anywhere near a broadcast booth?

Why the hell are we talking to Russell Crowe now? Do they really expect us to care about rugby? And what the hell is is a Rabbitoh?

Why God, why did I ever take the Jaguars to cover?

Why did it take so long for the “conversation” in the booth to devolve into Patriots vs. Colts, Brady vs. Manning? Did they really think the Jags might come roaring back early in the fourth quarter with Quinn Gray under center? And what if it had actually turned into a real game? We might never have heard that scintillating “debate.”

Why don’t I watch Monday Night Football with the sound on mute like Peyton Manning?

It is true, the legal issues surrounding Mike Vick, the pending federal charges against him for dog fighting, and the Atlanta Falcons’ attempt to recoup about $20 million in bonuses paid to their former star quarterback are all very complex. So much so, that a 24-hour TV sports channel could probably devote an entire one hour segment to examine all the issues and ramifications.

Instead, though, assistant legal aide in training Mike Tirico, without a doubt the worst play-by-play man in the universe, took the opportunity during last night’s Giants-Falcons tilt on Monday Night Football to try and unravel the whole sordid mess. While the game was in progress. Talking over the plays, pausing only a couple times to tell us the down and distance. Note to ESPN: We’re trying to watch a football game, not catch up on Court TV!

Of course that was the least egregious moment of night. Throw in a couple breathless rants on Eli Manning and the New York media from Tony Kornheiser (who’s voice rises to screaming eagle pitch by the end of the night) and whatever the hell Ron Jaworski is saying at any given moment and you had yet another unwatchable MNF game courtesy of the three-headed monster on ESPN.

They should have just let Jimmy Kimmel call the game by himself.

Unacceptable, unbearable, and unwatchable are three of the words that come to mind when I see a game on Monday Night Football. Seriously, I never thought ESPN’s flagship football game could get worse than the Sunday night broadcasts with Theismann, McGuire, and Patrick, but the Worldwide Leader has somehow managed the impossible and created a new standard in inferiority.

I have given this new MNF crew five weeks to prove themselves, and they have — they have proven themselves to be the worst on television today. Ron Jaworski is nearly as insufferable as Theismann ever was, Tony Kornheiser’s schtick is about as inspired as Tony Romo’s decision making was tonight, and Mike Tirico is without a doubt the worst play-by-play man ever in the history of televised sport. With this three-headed monster at the helm, the point becomes debatable whether it would be better to watch Two and a Half Men and catch the highlights of the game later.

I would just like to have some programming guru explain to me how this show is supposed to make watching a football game more enjoyable. Tonight was a classic example: Buffalo was in the midst of winning a huge upset over the Cowboys, but the three morons in the booth kept talking about Niagara Falls, Peace Bridge, and the financial stability of the Bills franchise. Who cares, there is an exciting game going on. And certainly we are all praying for Kevin Everett, and certainly his tragic story is worth hearing, but certainly there is a better time to tell it than when the teams are running plays on the field.

Please someone tell them all to just shut the hell up!

According to SI.com, the #1 most annoying, half-witted, ass for brains football announcer is out of work. That’s right: Someone at ESPN finally got wise and canned Joe Theismann from Monday Night Football.

If this news is true, it could be the saving grace for prime-time football. The MNF franchise has had some problems on ESPN, but shedding the dead-weight that is, was, Theismann is a serious step in the right direction. I can’t tell you the number times during MNF — and Sunday Night Football before that — that my television has been in danger of colliding with the nearest boot, beer bottle, or cat.

Of course no one seems to be willing to go on the record about this news yet. The story was broke by Newsday, which quoted Theismann as saying he couldn’t comment “until I fully understand what has taken place.” Well Joe, let me help you understand: You suck and you finally lost your job because of it. You have been doing color for ESPN since 1988 (good Lord, has it really been that long?) and not once during that time have you said anything close to intelligent and we’re all as happy as Lawrence Taylor on a coke-and-hooker binge that you’re leaving.

But now of course this leaves the question of who will replace Theismann in the booth along with Mike Tirico and Tony Kornheiser. Some names SI.com tosses out include Emmitt Smith (nice guy, great player, good dancer, but in the booth?), Bill Parcells (sweet baby Jebus, no), and Ron Jaworski (just stab me in the eye). Now I would be in favor of MNF going back to a two-man booth but surely there’s a better NFL personality out there, someone who knows the hard knocks football can dish out.

I hear David Carr is looking for work.

The Big Lead has posted a sampling of reviews of the ESPN crew of Mike Tirico, Joe Theismann, and Tony Kornheiser, and concludes, “Sometimes, when it’s not working, you just have to blow it up and start over. We can’t imagine this MNF crew staying together after this season.” Another critique at AwfulAnnouncing says of Kornheiser, “He’s too old and his humor is old as well. On top of that (if that weren’t already enough) his ‘monologue’ at the beginning of every game seems like he’s just reading an old column he wrote in 2003.” Well played.

My own thoughts on the troika of talking heads on ESPN aren’t much kinder. I will say, though, that listening to Theismann and Korny has given me a new appreciation for the Sunday night lineup that terrorized us with Theismann and Paul Maguire. The old SNF crew was an abomination, yes, but at least I understood what their roles were: Theismann would say something stupid and Maguire would find a way to top it.

The one thing that did work on the old SNF, and there were few things that did, was that Theismann and Maguire seemed like two people who would be watching a game together. It was like being with the two guys from work who think they know everything and refuse to shut up even though they’re annoying the piss out of everyone. It wasn’t enjoyable but it was familiar territory for anyone who’s ever watched a game in a group setting.

With Theismann and Kornheiser, though, it’s hard to imagine them ever watching a game, or even being in the same room, together because they just don’t relate on any level. You’ve got on the one hand the dumb jock who probably rocks out to Hootie and the Blowfish and then on the other the sarcastic guy from your American Lit class who’s into the Pixies. (If that doesn’t date me, nothing will.) It’s just Dennis Miller Time all over again.

Watching this situation blow up over the course of the season might be kinda fun though; I’m hoping at some point Theismann decides he’s had enough of Tony and just throws down. “That’s it, Kornhole, I’m gonna squash you like a bug!” Now that would be some great TV.

Charles Barkey: Thank’s Mike. It’s good to be here.

Tony Kornheiser: Charles, you’re a big man.

CB: Thank you, Tony.

TK: No, I mean you are a big man. You could crush me like a bug.

Joe Theismann: Charles, first of all, congratulations on your hit record.

CB: No, you must be thinking of Gnarls Barkley. I don’t have a record.

JT: I really like that song. What’s it called again?

CB: You mean, “Crazy?”

JT: Yeah, yeah. That record is excellent.

CB: But I didn’t . . .

MT: Charles, let’s talk a little basketball. When you were in the league, did you really fuck Madonna?

CB: Hey, I don’t think that’s . . .

TK: Madonna? She’s no virgin, hehehe.

JT: Hi-o!

CB: Guys, I really don’t think this is something we should be talking about. I think someone just fumbled the ball out there.

MT: Oh, pay no never mind to those guys. Charles, it’s been great having you here, I hope you can stick around for the rest of the show.

Geek:

Or is it the other way round? Either way, I’m pretty sure Mike Tirico is Millie Kentner.

In his column yesterday, Korny offers a self-critique of his job on MNF and concludes that he is not saying enough, which leads me to wonder which nanoseconds of silence during the broadcast is he planning to appropriate for all this extra talking?

What is supposed to be the marquee matchup of the NFL week has turned into a prime time talk show, with Mike Tirico and Joe Theismann playing the roles of Regis and Kelly (leaving Kornheiser to fill in as Gelman, I guess) babbling on incessantly about anything and everything except the game at hand: The big game last week, the big game next week, muffin recipes, on and on and on. I would not be surprised at all if ESPN soon installed a couch for guests and brought in a house band.

This problem isn’t limited to just MNF, though. Madden and Michaels on Sunday night are just as oblivious to the fact that there is a football game going on underneath their noses, and nearly every afternoon game features Joe Buck or some other numskull who can’t shut up for two seconds.

All I’m asking is that someone just call the game. All I want is for the color guy to briefly (and I mean briefly) analyze the play. They do it on the radio all the time, so I know it’s possible to do. Is it really too much to ask that these retards pay attention to the game?

I guess there’s always the mute button.

Joe Theismann is back for another season of mindless analysis, and even though he is still an arrogant, self-centered ass, his ability to transmit laser beam-like searing pain through the television seems to have been nullified somewhat by the absence of Paul Maguire. More than anyone else in sports broadcasting, Maguire has reserved for himself a special place in the pantheon of half-witted color commentators, but who would have guessed he was the active ingredient that made Theismann so retch-inducing repulsive. Don’t get me wrong, I still want to reach through the TV screen and punch him in the mouth every time he launches into some long-winded soliloquy about zone blocking or the cover two defense, but Theismann has become almost tolerable without Maguire and the tedious Mike Patrick.

Speaking of that shitbag Patrick, ESPN chose to replace him with Mike Tirico on play-by-play. Some have called him smooth, but I say Tirico is downright aloof; it’s almost as if he’s offhandedly referring to action as part of a separate conversation. “Oh, say, there’s McNabb and he threw the ball. How about that.” I realize it’s only preseason but the guy needs to dial it up just a notch or two. Maybe in a heated game in December with playoff implications Tirico will muster up something resembling human emotion. One thing’s for sure, though, the production assistants at ESPN have to get him a roster sheet and maybe drill him on names before the broadcast. I’m not asking for a 100% error-free game, but the number of times he calls out the wrong number or the wrong name of the player involved in the action is aggravating to say the least.

Which brings us to the wild card of this bunch, Tony Kornheiser. ABC tried introducing a cynical voice to the MNF franchise back with Dennis Miller, an experiment that crashed and burned with a worse conflagration and loss of life than The Hindenburg, but there’s something different about Kornheiser’s shtick that just might work. I will say that I have enjoyed his badgering of Theismann in these first few broadcasts, questioning some of the insipid things that come out of that insipid mouth of his that I’d like to punch sometimes, and he does bring a sort of every-fan viewpoint to the booth. The question will be whether or not his act stands up over the course of 16 regular season broadcasts. Will we still in December be amused by his wry observations or greatly annoyed at how tiring he has become? Will Theismann take the heat like a man or bust Kornheiser in the chops? It could be entertaining.

One thing, though, that will not get more entertaining over time is the inclusion of the “Ask Tony” segment of the broadcast, where Tirico reads out viewer questions that have been e-mailed to Kornheiser through the ESPN web site. The whole segment is a little annoying right now as it breaks up the flow of the game, but I guarendamntee you that we’ll all be rising up with pitchforks and torches in mob rule fashion if they don’t stop playing the theme song that chants to a backbeat, “Tony! Tony! Tony!” Key-righst that is going to get old fast.