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   Sunday ushered in a spell binding day of football. I ended up staying in front of the tube all day, unable to wrest myself away from the developing storylines and tub thumping action.

   Let’s start with Mark Sanchez, New York Jet QB of the future and, as is evident, the present. It is not being fanciful to say a star was born after his poised and professional performance against the Houston Texans. The kid’s release is spectacular, a lightning quick whip action which allows him to rest in the pocket until the last possible millisecond. The Jets have to be given a second look in view of the remarkable play of their rookie QB and the stalwart composure of their defence.

   Brett Favre just radiates ego. The Minnesota Vikings had a solid outing on the road in Cleveland but it is questionable if their QB will be comfortable continuing to play an innocuous role in the offense. I find something so unlikeable about his aw shucks persona. It doesn’t ring true and, truly, it never has. But the Vikings seem set for a huge year, and, just as obviously, the engine of their attack must be the spectacular stylings of Adrian Peterson. If you were a fan of Terrell Davis, then Peterson will likely strike you as a reincarnation of the rugged, slashing runner who propped up an aging John Elway en route to two Superbowl wins. Wait…Elway/Davis and now Favre/Peterson; hmmm…there could be incentive for Favre to play nice if these Vikings continue to look like legit contenders.

   Mike Singletary has moulded one funky little squad in San Francisco. What a pleasure it was too watch the hard driving team rip off one blitz after another against a baffled Kurt Warner (If the Pittsburgh Steelers had been as ballsy last February the Superbowl would have been a dud). Warner is deadly when afforded time. He is, and always has been, of questionable stature in the face of pressure. The Cardinals look flustered and out of sorts, and that may have been as significant as the efforts of the 49ers. The “NFC Champion” Cardinals will evoke an intensity from their opponents that, for them, is heretofore unknown. They appear a long way from even a .500 season, let alone a defense of their title.

   The Washington Redskins have made commendable strides to establish a competitive presence in the arduous NFC East. But their abject failure to develop a front rate pivot crippled their chances against a solid New York Giants squad and, indeed, threatens to scuttle the entire season. Head coach Jim Zorn displays a complete lack of confidence in Jason Campbell and instead allows a drift towards a pervasive inevitability, clear to all, that Clinton Portis will be called on to move the sticks. Portis has never been particularly hardy and will really be challenged to remain healthy with a burdensome workload.

   Teams that impressed include Dallas; with Tony Romo dishing generously to his assorted weapons -  Indianapolis; surviving a Jags squad that always plays them tough -  and Green Bay; with Dom Capers rejuvenated defence making a mockery of Jay Cutler’s saviour pretensions.  I’ll pause before according accolades to Seattle, New Orleans and Philadelphia, until they accomplish more than pummeling, respectively, the dreadful, the decrepit and the loathsome. Baltimore was far more dominant against Kansas than the score would lead you to believe, so don’t sweat Flacco and his Thug Life crew - they still justifiably have their eyes set on the Steelers and another successful campaign.

   I made only one bet, going 1-0, with the Titans disappointing straight up against Pittsburgh but still handling the six point spread. I’m passing on tonights West Coast battle but consider New England an excellent proposition, even offering a double digit spread. Joey Galloway is going to offer Tom Brady tantalizing options in addition to elite talent Randy Moss and Wes Welker. The Bills offensive line poses a big threat to, ahem, Trent Edwards tonight, a patched together crew of pudgy rejects facing New England steel.

   I did spend an inordinate amount of time flipping between the MTV Awards and the Packers-Bears game. Both were highly entertaining spectacles but, well, only one had Madonna and Lady Gaga, so our loyalties were split. Madonna’s opening monologue on Michael Jackson was heartfelt and articulate. It was also dedicated to a drug addled pedophile and, thus, compromised in its attempt to truly resonate with the public. Madonna seemed to reveal as much about herself as she did enlighten about Michael. Touching on the loss of her mother at the age of six and chiding herself for her indifference to Michael’s later life plight, Madonna seemed moved and compassionate. Her image of aloofness and rapaciousness has always been at odds with the woman’s true nature but it appears Ms Ciccone may now be serious about smoothing the rough edges of her reputation.

  Well, well, Lady Gaga…is spectacular a spectacular enough word to describe her performance? Starting off as a relatively conventional rendering of Paparazzi, the song careened into a piano solo, a bout with wheelchairs and crutches, and ended with the Lady drenched in blood and suspended from the ceiling. A challenging but accessible interpretation of her rocking song, the final presentation ranks as one of the MTV Awards moments of pure transcendence. The Lady is a star…

   Kanye came off as a boor and a jerk, seemingly terrifying a bewildered young girl named Taylor (Not Too) Swift. Russell Brand reduces me to tears in Europe, particularly when cavorting with Jonathan Ross, but falls flat this side of the ocean. Pink was awesome..I think. Has she come down yet? Beyonce was gorgeous but I think we’ve all had just about enough of “Single Ladies”, right?

  Now, inspired by the appearance of the incandescent Serena Williams, lets review the debacle surrounding her U S Open match against Kim Clijsters. In a competitive match Williams was victimized by a call of monumental stupidity. The trivial nature of the foul contrasted starkly with the importance of the event. A one-celled organism, perched primly in her blue Ralph Lauren wind breaker, saw fit to pronounce a “foot foul” while Serena struggled to remain alive in a draining contest. Williams was an emissary of common sense and moral decency when she stalked to the official and said, apparently, “I’ll take this ball and shove it right down your fucking throat”. Bang on, girlfriend! These tedious librarians, unable to process context, are a bane to the passionate and the great. That the official sought to announce her clumsy inability to factor perspective into her actions while Serena was engaged in a battle to reach the final of a Grand Slam absolutely demanded a response of outrage and extreme indignation. It was the human response, the logical response and the right response. Bravo to Serena for seeking to stomp on a worm instead of meekly acceding to its slimy transgression.