Quite a bit has happened since I last posted. I know, I really meant to update more frequently, but I had to go on a bit of a bender what with Illinois taking the beating it did at the hands of the hated USC Trojans and all. So there is much to talk about in this post. If I were the sort of blogger that succeeds at blogging, I'd have posted tonight's material in three or segments and most of it a long time ago.

First, I really thought Illinois could have won that game. I don't think USC was that much more talented than Illinois. Unfortunately, the Trojans were much more experienced and every single break of the game and bounce of the ball went their way. That bounding backward pass was a hell of a play by McKnight, but when does that ever turn from disaster into a 60 yard gain? And once it became a passing game, Williams just couldn't bring them back. That said, I thought Mendenhall was the best back on the field that day and I was very pleasantly surprised to see how well Vonte Davis tackled. I assumed he was just a speed cover corner, but he made some Darrell Green-esque tackles, and not just when he ran down McKnight on that nightmare play.

As for yesterday's games, so what if Seattle won? I still think they're massively overrated. Against any other team, those two gift INTs Hasselbeck threw to Landry would have sent the pride of the Emerald City and the 12th Person home crying. Which reminds me, did Seattle rip off their nickname from the town at the end of the damn Yellow Brick Road in The Wizard of Oz, or what?

I was very impressed with Mike Tomlin, even though the Steelers won't be joining us until mini-camps open. I like the fact that he allowed his defense to fight to the bitter end and not pull that lame stunt that Holmgren pulled allowing Denver to score a TD at the end of Super Bowl XXXII to save time on the clock for a potential tying drive, which just fell short anyway.

I believe that the NFL is (or should be) the last bastion of the old ways of doing things. No one ever gave a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed, according to General Patton. Playing for the tie or playing to set up a comeback may work out, but a man with pride ought to be happier taking a shot at winning as opposed to planning to be scored on, pushed around or some other such humiliating eventuality.

As for today's games, I didn't really like any of the four teams playing. Tampa would have been the closest to a team I could have rooted for, what with that amazing shade of dark grey in their helmets (not to get all Bravo Network up in here, but that is a damn cool looking color, so cool that it defies syntactic and grammatical correctness) and a very good defense (I thought Gaines Adams was overrated, I was wrong). But they have Jeff Garcia, whom no true TO fan can stand and they are the last bastion of Barber-ism in the NFL.

For the most part, I thought that Ronde Barber's comments were overblown. But there was more than a bit of me that thought he was nearly as out of line as his brother had been when he released his silly little autobiography this summer. Tampa shouldn't have been terribly worried about the Giants, but for the fact that Tampa themselves managed to prove very little this year.

The second game was close, and it was interesting to watch. But it struck me as a lot of wasted effort. Neither team could have won in the next round, I didn't think. I thought the closeness of the score was more indicative of two half-decent but overrated defenses playing against two shaky, suspect offenses. Maybe Vince Young could have given the aging linebackers of the Patriots fits with his mobility, but then again he could have given Samuel, Harrison, Hobbs and co. several gift INTs too. So better, in the long run, that San Diego advanced.

The real story of the day was the long awaited Roger Clemens interview. I believed him. Red Sox fans probably won't, but that's life. Yeah, Clemens blinked more than I'd have liked. But who can say how the CBS crew lit the interview area? And more importantly, could you sit there, across from Mike Wallace and look him in his wrinkly, pruny face and not blink? A lesser person than Clemens might have seen Wallace for that extended period of time and decided to forgo the joys of senectitude (advancing advanced old age, for Red Sox fans) for euthanasia.

Why I believe Clemens is, I think a fairly simple explanation. McNamee accepted a deal to provide Federal prosecutors with information in exchange for not going to jail for his involvement in a steroid ring. There are those who can believe that a man who accepts the government's beneficence with a rejuvenated sense of right and wrong and will provide the prosecutors with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I, however, believe that any character slimy enough to accept a plea deal to save his own skin has lost sight of the value placed on truth, justice and what once might have been described as the American way.

I can see the logic in statements that put Barry Bonds' alleged use of performance enhancers down to his envy over the accolades heaped on McGwire and Sosa and a desire to break big records. I don't really believe them, but I can see how these factors might have come into play. I just don't see it for Clemens. He'd already won four Cy Youngs before McNamee claimed to have injected him for the first time in 1998.

It is true as Red Sox fans love to point out that Roger did say he wanted to play closer to his home in Texas when he left Boston in 1996 only to sign with Toronto. So he was, in that instance, slightly less than honest. But going for the money the way he did is something that we all would have done given the opportunity. Steroids is a whole different animal. Clemens was a Hall of Famer when he left Boston, he didn't need to reach any more milestones, he didn't need to do more. He was already the best pitcher of his era.

And the thing about McNamee's story is that it rings false to me. I realize, as my reader the KobraKommander pointed out when the Mitchell Report first dropped, McNamee has certain physical evidence in the form of bank records and cancelled checks to show that he received payments from Roger Clemens. Alas, these documents don't show injections of performance enhancing drugs in the Rocket's handwriting in the checks' memo spaces. So it's a he said, he said situation.

What really bothers me about the story is that McNamee has admitted under oath (or at least I assume he has as he testified against his associates) to some form of involvement in a steroid distribution ring. And yet in the yarn he spun for the Mitchell Commission, McNamee stated that the steroids he injected into Roger Clemens were purchased and brought to the scene of the injection by Clemens himself. It doesn't make sense to me. And as Roger challenged in the interview tonight, let the unnamed and unknown purveyors of steroids who sold to Clemens come forward to damn him.

This sad, sordid story has reminded me of one of my favorite films. It's called Quiz Show, about the corrupt game show 21 in the late 1950s. Congress, in one of its nobler efforts to protect us from phantoms and demons, launched a lengthy and expensive investigation into the TV game shows on the allegation that the shows were rigged, which they were.

The two biggest winners in the show were Herbert Stempel, an unattractive know-it-all of a loser, and Charles Van Doren, a young, handsome, clean cut member of a prominent American intellectual family. Both had received the answers, both had profited from the rigged show, but Van Doren ended up with a future in TV and Stempel went right back to being the ugly tool whom no one liked. So Stempel made a stink, testified before Congress and brought the show and Van Doren down with him.

Before the analogy spins even further out of control, in this little farce, Curt Schilling (or America's conscience as he styles himself) is Stempel and Roger Clemens is Charles Van Doren. Where the analogy breaks down is that Van Doren was guilty and Clemens isn't. But all of America, for the sake of catharsis, needs Schilling to come out in one of his ten million press conferences and say something on the lines of "Look, I admit I am insanely jealous of what Roger Clemens has accomplished in his career. I'm sorry, but I am a terrible person and massively overrated. As a penance, I'm retiring quietly, oh and by the way, I faked the bloody sock." Alas, it will never be.

Three more thoughts on the Clemens interview. First, Roger made a hell of a point when he asked Mike Wallace how exactly a person proves their innocence. Outside of the fact that one isn't required to do so in a law court, no one has ever adequately answered that one. Second, what would it prove to hook Clemens up to a polygraph? They measure physiological responses, so one would assume a superbly conditioned gentleman like Clemens would stand a good shot of beating it if he were lying.

And finally, was it ironic that Clemens' interview should follow a story featuring noted killer Johnny Mattarano? For whatever sins he may have to answer to Saint Peter and the Lord, Mattarano is, himself, a victim of a rat in the service of the US Department of Justice (namely James "Whitey" Bulger). And here I am, a guy who just doesn't want to believe in coincidences.

By the way, I didn't have time to do it tonight, and I was too intoxicated last night (and the night before), but I was at the Cs game on Friday and I watched them play Detroit last night. So I have some thoughts to relate about the game experience and the future of the team. I probably won't get to them until Tuesday, though, with the BCS title game tomorrow.

But before I wrap up, I have one more thing to say. I generally try to avoid politics in this space, but I need to say something about Mike Huckabee. I think he should be required to campaign with a midget, a broom and a big banner proclaiming him to be the friend of the little man. Whenever I see him at a campaign event, I can't help but think of Homer Stokes, the reform candidate for governor in O Brother Where Art Thou. But that's just me.

Oh, and as a postscript, I have this to say to Chuck Norris. You sucked as an actor and you suck as a political activist. Here's the realest of the the real Chuck Norris facts for you, 90% of Americans want you to drop dead, they're just too polite to say it.

What a world we live in. Somehow, some way things have gotten to the point that it seems that the only person committed to defending the legacy of the King of Rock and Roll is a bitter, hostile guy with a pseudonymous blog primarily devoted to his one man crusade against the Boston Red Sox. Elvis passed away 30 years ago, but for some reason no one will let him rest in peace.

Tonight, ABC News devoted two hours of broadcast time in prime time to a special retrospective on Elvis and his concerts in Las Vegas between 1969 and his death. No stone was left unturned in searching for luminaries to contribute to this program. And we were given no choice but to appreciate the gravitas of the program when we saw that no less a light than Elizabeth Vargas appeared on screen to host it.

David Brinkley and Walter Cronkite could take lessons on how to handle serious and weighty material from Ms. Vargas. Perhaps I spend to much of my time avoiding news magazine shows and the evening news and perhaps I'm overreacting to this evening's terrible program, but Elizabeth Vargas is terrible. She seems like she's trying too hard. It's almost as if she's sending out a subconscious signal that she wants to be taken seriously but doesn't have enough confidence in how she does what she does.

I wish I could find the people who assembled tonight's cast of celebrities paying homage to Elvis. For instance, how exactly is Faith Hill singing a version of "That's Alright Mama" with the pronouns adapted to suit her gender a tribute to Elvis? Granted, it's better than having me croak out an off-key version of Elvis' cover of "Gentle on my Mind" (my personal favorite of his recordings). But who cares what Faith Hill thinks about Elvis, and is she really all that good a singer?

I had less of a problem with Miranda Lambert singing Jailhouse Rock. But that's because I hate the song. It's just a silly, trite number that smacks of the songs from his later films that were so universally reviled by fans, critics and even Eddie Murphy in Delirious. Plus it strikes me as a bit gay.

Maybe the songwriters were recalling a time in the 1880s when prisons like San Quentin were actually co-ed when they wrote this line: "Number 47 said to Number 3, you're the cutest little jailbird I ever did see, I sure would be delighted with your company, come on and do the jailhouse rock with me." It's possible, but I doubt it. Also, I'm not sure what they meant when they said the whole rhythm section was a purple gang. It was 10 years too soon to have been inspired by the Minnesota Vikings defense which also was a purple gang. Either way, I don't like the song, but I do think the film of the same name was far and away the best of his movies.

One edifying site was watching Paul McCartney strumming the actual bass used for the early recordings and concert tours when Elvis was starting out. I found it amusing because McCartney was wearing a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand. Maybe I'm a bit cruel, but I have hated the Beatles since I was a kid, so it brought a smile to my face. I have to tell you I might be heartless, but with that high profile divorce I got a chuckle out of that sight.

I also appreciated 50 Cent's appearance. He talked about a lot of the same things I mentioned in my post on the 30th anniversary of Elvis' passing. Where some critics rip Elvis for "raping" black music, 50 Cent said Elvis took what influenced him from black music and made it his own. That's what I said, Elvis made records like That's Alright and Hound Dog as a tribute to the artists who inspired him, not as a cold, calculating attempt to exploit African American culture for profit.

Nevertheless, at the end of the day, what shocked me the most about this evening's program was that Priscilla Presley (Elvis' ex-wife/widow, I'm not sure what one calls an ex when their former spouse predeceases her) was available for an extended commentary. I would have thought that she would have been busy with other projects. After all, it was a very near thing that she didn't receive more awards for her stellar acting in films like the Naked Gun, the Naked Gun 2 and 1/2 and the Naked Gun 33 and 1/3. Most actresses would kill for a resume like that.

Perhaps I am being too harsh in my criticism of Priscilla. She did a great thing when she prevented the Scientologists from getting their paws on Elvis' bequest to Lisa Marie when she joined their...religion. And I don't necessarily fault her for divorcing Elvis because it's none of my damn business and they led a strange, somewhat creepy life together. But she did bang Chuck Norris, and that's just wrong on 100 levels, mostly dealing with how much of a tool and how bad of an actor Chuck Norris is.

My real problem with Priscilla is probably not even her fault, since I don't know how Elvis' will left things. But I resent the level to which the family and now the corporation that controls Elvis Presley Enterprises has sunk to exploit his image. As if Elvis-shaped bottles of Jim Beam weren't bad enough, they had to let little E slather the King all over the stock car that couldn't even finish a race the other day.

I haven't watched any of the recent Elvis concerts where the digitally generated image of Elvis performs with what remains of his backing musicians, but I have a huge problem with them. This just doesn't seem right. Nor does it strike me as a means to introduce a new generation to Elvis' music.

As much as I hate them, I appreciate one thing about the Beatles. Half of them are now dead and gone, but they allow new fans to come to their music more organically than Elvis Presley Enterprises does. For whatever his other problems John Lennon had, at least his face isn't decorating the hood of some half-literate redneck's stock car.

I also resented the implications that ABC and the producers allowed to seep into their program. Vegas didn't save Elvis' career, nor did it kill him. It was just one more step in both processes. The show did discuss the 1968 Comeback special in passing, in part because it led to the second slate of Vegas appearances. I say the second slate because Elvis played Vegas in 1956 and bombed spectacularly, but ABC left that out of tonight's show.

Also, between the 1968 comeback special and the Vegas concerts, Elvis returned to Memphis and recorded some tracks that did a bit more to bring his career back than appearing in a jump suit in Vegas. Some of those tracks are among the best known in his songbook, like In the Ghetto and Suspicious Minds. The ABC show mentioned how the became staples of his Vegas shows, but seemed to imply that Vegas made them hits as opposed to the songs being hits and making the Vegas shows a success.

I suppose it would be too much to ask that a show about Elvis not dwell on his drug problem in some way. But we all know the stories about him staying up until 6 or 7 AM then taking sleeping pills to get to sleep only to wake up and pop uppers to do it all again. It doesn't get less depressing with each retelling, nor does it stop other people from doing things like that.

I know a guy who knows a guy who carries his prescribed uppers and downers to the golf course. If he's too energetic, he takes a downer to get him back to where he needs to be to play good golf. If the reverse is true, he takes an upper to get him amped. It's his life, he can do what he wants as long as he doesn't hurt anyone.

Who am I to talk? Isn't that what I do over the weekends when I drink beer until I can't blog coherently then spend the next morning drinking hot tea and eating greasy food to chase the cobwebs away? With beer it's a longer process than with the chemicals in uppers and downers, but it's not any healthier and not much better as a way to live. So can't we cut the guy a break and leave Elvis in peace?

And may God forgive them for wrapping the show with Celine Dion performing Can't Help Falling in Love. May God forgive them for having her perform it at all. I certainly won't. But God might.