Mark Spector

Mark Spector is a columnist for sportsnet.ca

MIAMI — Dwight Freeney was tap dancing on a bad ankle. For about an hour, in front of an audience of people who wouldn’t let the Indianapolis’ Colts most valuable— and severely dinged up — defensive player take even the shortest break.

"The ankle is pretty much day-to-day. Every morning I wake up hoping (it will be better)," he said, as a media horde 12 scribes deep craned to hear every evasive word.

All-Pro left tackles can’t corral this guy, but the assembled media here figures they can work Freeney into a spot where he’ll come clean on whether or not he is playing on Sunday. His ankle ligaments are torn.

"That’s going to be a decision that’s going to be later on in the week. It’s kind of early," he said.

It is Media Day at Super Bowl XLIV. On this day, New Orleans tight end Jeremy Shockey will announce at the top of his interview session that the Saints coaches have not even delivered the game plan for Indy yet.

Then he will go on for 55 more minutes about playing the Saints.

But somehow this year, the crowd is missing some colour. There are no women dressed as brides, asking quarterbacks to marry them. And we can’t spot that cross-dressing Mexican guy either.

Come to think of it, those red-hot babes from TV Azteca in Mexico City are nowhere to be found, a fact causing some angst among the throngs of overweight, shabbily dressed American sportswriters.

"If this is what happens when we tighten up our borders," said one, "then I say loosen ‘em up again."

There are some 2,000 media people here, about six times the number who attend a Stanley Cup Final. But perhaps Gary Bettman should heed our advice and make up with ESPN, because at the Super Bowl, three out of every four tag-wearing media types seems to work for ESPN, as the network and all of its tentacles covers this football game like ants dragging home a chicken carcass.

In fact, when Chris Berman stands amid a group of scribbling journalists, he clearly has become the story he once covered. And now there is a Mexican Chris Berman too — from ESPN Deportes — a beefy, pepper-haired football expert from south of the border who does his interview without breaking stride.

And the reporters actually chase after him, looking for an opinion.

"It is definitely a blessing just to have so much talent around you," said Saints receiver Marques Colston at one point. "Just to be in this atmosphere is special."

He was talking about: A - being in the same room as Senior Bermano; or B – playing on the Saints offence.?

Your guess.

Meanwhile, 30 minutes in, Freeney is still holding his ground.

"There is some pain there. As you guys know, it’s a torn ligament, so there’s definitely going to be pain there. I’m just going to deal with it, just trying to get the swelling down, and just trying to get back to what I do."

Media Day, without a doubt, is the biggest collection of scammers, frauds, radio Johnnies and, yes, some legitimate sports journalists — but where do we fit in? Your guess — ever to be lumped together in one place.

There are two of America’s finest columnists mining Indianapolis’ Pierre Garcon, of Haitian descent, for some deep thoughts on the earthquake. It is a subject that he has tired of over the past couple of weeks, and he can’t hide it.

Unfettered by Garcon’s waning interest however, some guy holding a video camera screams, "Speak some French for us, Pierre!"

He obliges, reciting the words from Haiti’s flag. But another camera guy who wasn’t rolling shouts out, "Say something else in French!" like he is ordering a dog to do a trick.

It is the American way: If it sounds different, then it is funny. Garcon pretends not to hear him.

What if you did that at a Canadiens practice? "Hey Jacques Martin! Say something in French!" Would that make you Albertan?

There are two Deacons here — both young men training to be priests, both wearing priest’s collars and hanging around getting interviewed — because they are different. One day they’ll be real preachers, but for now, this pair of New Orleans Saints fans are ordained simply as two freeloading friars.

They came all the way from Europe.

"We’ll write something for our school’s magazine. Hopefully they’ll run it," one said.

"Hopefully they’ll run it," I’m thinking. The guy isn’t even carrying a pen or notepad.

Total free loaders both. They’ll hang around all week, then watch the game for free on Sunday.

What a scam.

They’ll both make fine sportswriters one day.