Hi everyone. You're welcome to get out of my face, if that's what you want to do. -Oh my God, you're doing it wrong. Alright buddy. I'm Reggie Greengrass, filling in for Kenny Kennedy who is currently being pursued by repo men somewhere west of Flagstaff. -I'm Doc Brooks and I do not like this "Reggie" guy. If I knew where the GOOMF studio was, I would never allow you inside. Somebody get us to the faceoff already. It's a solid week until the Super Bowl but football fans are already bubbling with excitement for the chance to see the Giants or Patriots lose the biggest game of their lives. This is why we love sports. Either we see a smug, tiresome super-dynasty miss their chance for revenge, or a group of lazy upstarts who backed into the playoffs finally get their comeuppance. I don't know who I want to see lose more. As long as it's a poorly executed, clumsy game that leaves both teams feeling dead inside, I'm happy. All that matters is seeing the hand dog look on Eli's face or the petulant disbelief on Brady's. Of course the downside is that only one team can lose. Is it too much to ask for something terrible to happen to the winners? I'd love to see Legionnaire's Disease claim the lives of both these squads regardless of the outcome. -Ooh, a classic. Great choice. You're not supposed to like things I say. Turning to the diamond, the Rockies were annoyed to find that Marco Scutaro, whom they just traded for isn't the little, bald guy on the Red Sox who's really good. When the Red Sox offered Scutaro for pitcher Clayton Mortensen, GM Dan O'Dowd reportedly jumped at the opportunity to sign the player he called "that tough little nugget who hits the ball all the time." Hey, it's always embarrassing to ask if you don't know who the guy is you want to trade for, but sometimes asking is better than making a stupid mistake. In their defense, the Red Sox don't have names on their jerseys so it's even more confusing. It's just as dangerous to trade for their pitchers. There's no difference between John Lester and John Lackey, or that other lumpy guy, John Beckett. God, I wish we were talking about talking football right now. Then do it. Kenny doesn't wish. News out of Foxboro, Bill Belichick has vowed to finally induce Tom Coughlin's death on the sidelines after failing to coach him into a fatal heart attack during Super Bowl XLII. In a press conference this morning Belichick pledged not to let the decrepit, red-faced old coot slip through his fingers again. Got to respect what Coughlin has achieved, but the man should put on an ice suit and brush his skin with baby powder because he is going down. Belichick hasn't engineered a coach's death since the heyday of the Patriots dynasty. I say Coughlin lives at least one more week after the Super Bowl. -Well somebody has to die. At this point in his career Belichick will either see Coughlin dead or work himself into the grave, then nobody will come to his funeral just like that Scrooge McDuck in that scary ghost movie. Or Joe Paterno on Wednesday. Only Penn State people came to his funeral. So devastating. Really it would have been better if he had never lived at all. -Agreed. -Stop doing that! God I miss Kenny.