So, Congress finally got around to asking the Justice Department to look into whether or not Roger Clemens committed perjury. It seemed fairly obvious that this was going to be the end result of that he said-he said fest into which the hearings of two weeks ago degenerated in short order. The only surprise was the delay between the hearings and the request.

Personally, I think it had something to do with the fact that Congress was desperately searching for some other charge to file against Clemens. Alas, interrupting a legendary orator like Henry Waxman in the midst of a contralto harangue full of sound and fury but signifying nothing is merely a violation of Robert's Rules for Order. Even though Robert's Rules are the tools which do little more than protect the elected officials from the electorate, an ordinary citizen can't be punished for breaching them.

This case should be fairly interesting in so far as what the result will be. But I am sure that the process by which said result will be obtained won't be tremendously interesting. Yes, no side in this sad little mess has any reasonable claim to credibility. But I don't think I'll be flying to my set to see if Andy Pettitte's story on his own HGH usage habits changes for the third time since his name was included in the Mitchell Report. I would like to see whether the NYPD service record for Brian McNamee sees the light of day any time soon, but I'm not big on hoping for miracles.

Of far greater importance and interest to me at the moment is a nugget in Peter King's Monday NFL column this week. Generally, I avoid Peter King like the plague because he's a New Jersey d-bag and one of the less than shining lights of NBC's dismal NFL Sunday Night studio show. But the guy I go to for my Red Sox info told me that there was an interesting little tidbit about the Dom Capers hire.

I am unhappy with myself for missing the Capers hire on the tickers when it was announced. To me, this is a great sign. It's a panic move on the part of the Patriots. It looks superficially like an insurance policy, a possibility which Peter King is quick to dismiss, in case Belichick should be forced to step down or face suspension for his role in the ongoing signal taping soap opera.

On that level, it would make some sense, since the Patriots had no one on staff with head coaching experience and McDaniel would have caused the knuckle-dragging troglodytes who root for the Patriots to mutiny had he inherited this team. Dean Pees may or may not have potential, it's hard to say as the presence of Belichick overshadows any fair understanding of what he's brought to the table as defensive coordinator. And who knows when this situation will resolve itself?

One thing is sure, it didn't make very much sense for the Patriots to enter the official NFL league year 2008 (starting with free agency and the draft process) without a viable candidate in house. Even if Capers isn't on any one's short list for a quick fix or permanent replacement, his presence means they won't have to make a panic move should Belichick have to leave town for a while.

The reason I like this move is that it shows the Patriots organization is scared at some level. Whether they are afraid of the end result of Arlen Specter's half-assed witch hunt or afraid that it's "Katy bar the door" time for the dynasty is another matter. Hiring a defensive assistant with experience with another branch of the 3-4 tree to serve under a less experienced defensive coordinator cannot bode well for the current coordinator's confidence.

The defense isn't getting any younger in the front seven. Assante Samuel is out the door, and some Pats fans aren't too upset considering he didn't intercept Eli Manning when he could have salted the game away. But that leaves you with fearsome shutdown corners in Ellis Hobbs and Randall Gay (who might be leaving town himself). Yes, in the piece I mentioned, Peter King proved with the case of the 49ers this past season that cornerbacks aren't a great investment compared to a solid pass rush.

When you think that Richard Seymour has quietly become the Manny Ramirez of the Pats defense and that Vrabel is getting older and much more likely to submit a season like he did in 2006 than another like he did in 2007, things all of a sudden look a little bleak in Foxboro. Of course, Adalius Thomas is still around and maybe he can get his statistical production mojo back if the Pats are forced to use him more like the Ravens did.

In another Pater King related comment, I want to address another column he wrote recently, predicting that Matt Ryan will be a better pro than JaMarcus Russell. I find that particularly amusing. One of the rationales for King's claim is that Ryan played and produced his impressive stats with a supporting cast that will not play pro football while Russell played with some of the best players in the nation and several future stars. That is a weighty argument.

However, doesn't it produce it's own weighty counterargument? Even if Matt Ryan played with players that won't make it to the NFL, should he not be expected to play at a high level any way, given the nature of his competition? For the last few years, as much as I hate to admit it, the SEC has been, top to bottom, the best and most competitive conference in college football. The ACC has been in a down cycle.

And on top of that, while both teams play cupcakes in the nonconference schedule, LSU plays Championship Subdivion powers and BC plays teams from the notoriously weak Northeast. And let's not forget, Russell torched an ND team in the Sugar Bowl that managed to send several players on to the NFL (Ndukwe and Landri among them). Matt Ryan struggled to lead BC to a win over a very depleted ND team this year, even though he threw outlet passes to his tailback that reminded people of a very old Joe Montana (the one in those terrible NFL Network diner ads, not even the one who played for the Chiefs).

If I were to give you ten things I think, items one through eight right now would be that Peter King is a d-bag. Item nine would be that anyone who actively reads Peter King to gain insight into the seamy underworld of the coffee nerd should be disenfranchised. And last but not least, item ten would be: "I hoped you enjoyed the dynasty, Pats fans" because it's over.

Here's some Roy Orbison music to help cushion the blow.


The song is called The Comedians. I particularly like the line: "It's always something cruel that laughter drowns." In this instance, the cruel thing will be the decline and fall of the Patriot empire and the laughter drowning it will come from me and the overwhelming majority of NFL fans who have grown tired of the Pats and their fans.

And in one last note, we need to join forces with Sports Guy Nation in a new crusade. Bill Simmons is launching a mock-campaign to replace the GM of the Milwaukee Bucks. I'm not taking the side of the trade that says a guy has to come from an NBA background to run an NBA team. I'm taking the side of the trade that this loudmouth who has never slid into second base in his natural life (not including that rich, full life he leads in his own mind a la Walter Mitty) ought to put his money where his mouth is just one time before he dies.

As a bonus, here's a tools of note feature. I inadvertently typed in Roger's Rules instead of Robert's Rules when I googled the parliamentary procedure portion of what I wanted to talk about tonight. I guess I had Clemens on the brain and I was still chuckling from the Simmons piece. But I happened to stumble across this goldmine of sayings that are too obvious and banal to be considered cliches.

This fellow, Roger J. Wendell, has a website defending 3.8 billion years of organic evolution. And on this website, Roger J. Wendell has his own quaint rules for order. After reading them, it's just too easy to make fun of him. So all I have to say about them is this: if he's the last line of defense for 3.8 billion years of organic evolution, then 3.8 billion years of organic evolution is in for a world of pain.

Bill Simmons just might be the greatest basketball mind in the world today. I doubt it, but I am obliged, as a Catholic, to believe in miracles. But here's the thing, let's say a team were to give him a shot, since he boasts that he has at least some of the answers to fix each and every team in the league at the moment. What happens when he picks up the phone or approaches a GM from another team at league meetings? Are they really going to forget his arrogant columns? Are they going to be impressed by his soprano twittering? Are they going to be intimidated by J Bug and D Bag and Joe House and the rest of his insane clown posse? I doubt it, and I hope I get to see him fail.

So it's down to two teams in the NFL. And at last, and in no small part due to my efforts, the Bears bandwagon is rolling to Miami for Super Bowl XLI. For all of those people who laughed at me following the Arizona game and the Miami game and the Green Bay game on New Year's Eve, now I'm right and you were wrong (I don't think I need to be more magnanimous in victory than Bill Belichick was in defeat). But my world makes a little less sense now than it did on Sunday morning.

Peyton Manning beat the Patriots. Unlike many in New England, I did not brace myself for the apocalypse. I didn't see it coming, but I am not as surprised by it as some commentators either. It was only a matter of time before he won a playoff game against the Patriots. These things happen in football. The quarterback of the moment always has a nemesis he must pass to get to the next level. Brett Favre and Steve Young both had to beat the Dallas Cowboys and Troy Aikman in their quests for immortality. Terry Bradshaw had to beat the Miami Dolphins and Bob Griese. In large part that is forgotten, because the average fan has the memory of a goldfish and the last five years are the sum and total of the NFL.

What really surprised me, what upset my comfortable world view was the manner in which Manning won. My calling him an archfraud in this space now hangs on the erratic right arm (and odd, nearly shot put throwing motion) of Rex Grossman. Not only did Manning win, but he came back from an 18 point deficit in the biggest game he'd ever played. That surprised the hell out of me, and a lot of people the world over.

But the thing is, it was bound to happen. Every year, Brady gets a little older, and that defense ages in dog years. People get hurt, and all of a sudden the Patriots look like a who's who of has beens and never will bes in the secondary. Ray Mickens was playing defensive back in the fourth quarter. Who knew he was still in the league?

I think the dynasty is over, not just because I don't like the Pats. Consider the Reggie Wayne near fumble on the game winning drive. Since 2001, those plays have been going the way of Patriots. Sooner or later, they had to run out of luck. It just seems like these things are all coming to a head at the worst possible time. As I said earlier, this team keeps getting older.

They really haven't reloaded through the draft as well as they needed to, either. Yes, Maroney was a great pick and he's their back of the future. But was Pioli in the men's room when it came time to draft Chad Jackson? If some one said that the Florida receiver turning in the best overall performance during this playoff run would be Jabar Gaffney when this season began, that person would have been laughed out of town.

When it really mattered, the Patriots wide receivers who came up big against the Chargers came up very small against Indy. That was pass interference on Troy Brown. He gave the Colt defensive back a forearm on his way by, which is what made it an obvious call, as opposed to the simple pick which led to the Reggie Bush TD. Blocking downfield before the ball is caught is offensive pass interference. But the enduring image of this collapse has to be Reche Caldwell and his creepy wide-eyed stare after each crucial drop.

So there we have the Patriots entering the decline and fall portion of their dynasty. They are thin (at best) at wide receiver. Their linebacking corps consists of Roosevelt Colvin, two aging stalwarts whose best years appear, like objects in Meat Loaf's rear-view mirror, closer than they are in Bruschi and Vrabel and then two guys who would be fortunate indeed if they were allowed to back up Urlacher and Briggs if they played for the Bears in Banta-Cain and Alexander. Their offensive line doesn't inspire terror. Their defensive line is outstanding, but the secondary is a mismatched crew destined to lose Assante Samuel in the not too distant future. But they have cap room, if they want to spend it.

Then there is my adopted team, the Chicago Bears. They overcame Sen. Obama's effort to jinx them, and they overcame me speaking highly of them to beat America's new team. It's too bad in a way that the Saints had to lose. If I hadn't become emotionally invested in the Bears, I would have been rooting for the Saints this year. If they'd won I would have rooted for them in the Super Bowl against the Pats or Colts. But there's always next year...

I was disappointed, but not surprised at Reggie Bush when he scored that TD. The play was the first real flash of the brilliance he showed day after day at USC, and it reminded me of the number of times he'd made arrogant celebrations like that against a certain team from the nation's premier Catholic institution of higher learning in which I am also emotionally invested. I was amazed that he wasn't flagged for the celebration.

If TO had done either the pointing at an opponent or the flip into the end zone he would have been flagged. If TO did both on the same play, he'd be in front of a panel at the league office as though it were the Spanish Inquisition and TO said the world was round. But some leeway is given to those who attended that first-rate academic institution in LA. Perhaps Reggie was taking lessons on how to behave in the adult world from fellow Trojan Sean Salisbury. Read this, and see if you can resist making a joke involving a manufacture of prophylactic products who shares the name of the school's mascot.

That joke about a reaction to TO taunting, flipping and dancing has been in my mind since I saw the play on Sunday. Unfortunately, TO had to do it again. It's like there is some sort of bizarre cosmic connection that causes him to go out and say something that didn't need to be said as soon as I get ready to make a positive reference to him. For the 1,000th time, I was told that it was time I gave up on TO today. I'm just not ready to do it.

I wish he hadn't said it, but I don't think it was quite as big an insult as the media has made it out to be. TO doesn't live in the same world that normal people inhabit. When he was a kid, his grandmother was the most stable thing in his world. Unfortunately, since he's been in the NFL, Bill Parcells is probably the most stable, positive influence in his professional world. Now Parcells is out of the league, for the time being anyway, and TO is still in Dallas. As his last fan, I am not looking forward to this coming season. What a media circus this will be.

If only TO could learn how to live without being the center of attention. Or even better, the media could act on their threat to stop paying attention to him. I love hearing that threat. As though the media could ignore the best source for the quick story so that the American sports fan could learn how to feel from the font of righteous anger with the least effort expended.

It reminds me of something I read the other day in Dickens' Hard Times:

Whenever a Coketowner felt he was ill-used - that is to say whenever he was not left entirely alone, and it was proposed to hold him responsible for the consequences of any of his acts - he was sure to come out with the awful menace, that he would "sooner pitch his property into the Atlantic." This had terrified the Home Secretary within an inch of his life, on several occasions.

This applies to both TO and the media. Neither party in this dreadfully repetitive pas de deux can exist without the other. And neither is good for the other. He enables the media's indolence, and the media enables his penchant for attracting negative attention. Too bad for people who just want to watch football, but then are there any left? Every thing has to have drama and back story, now and it's too bad.