A rather burlesque media day

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Tom Coughlin and Bill Belichick, that cantankerous pair of fruit borne from the Bill Parcells coaching tree, summed things up pretty nicely on Tuesday; one with words, the other with glower. See, Tuesday was media day - a feeding frenzy for anyone holding a camera but more of a nuisance for those concerned about football. Belichick, as only he can, sat up on his podium and shot daggers across the crowd like a well-oiled curmudgeon turret. That scowl could strip paint off walls and Belichick laid it on thick. Later, it was Coughlin's turn to twist and squirm in his folding chair, responding to a question about the circus unfolding around him by saying "you just try and enjoy it."

That just about sums it up for the men who came here on private planes to play a football game on Sunday. It's all hoop-jumping and glad-handing for now; just bide time until you can get down to the real business at hand later this week.

If not the coaches, at least the fans seem to enjoy media day, so much so that many spent 35 of their hard-earned, blue-collar, middle-American dollars to watch the proceedings from the stands, cheering uproariously every time someone mentioned Peyton Manning; which was every other question during brother Eli's presser. This was, of course, mere hours before it was reported that the elder Manning's career is over. So yeah, about that.

The TV stations certainly enjoy it, because it's like a colorful content fountain out there, with numerous sideshows more than willing to embarrass themselves publicly in the name of, well, surely something. It makes for good TV; filling that tedious space in between the commercials with something that can hold our collective attention. And no one does it better than the National Football League. It is an unstoppable force of nature, this league, this event, this week.

Yes, it was a rather burlesque media day. There was an English fellow in a long, fur coat and matching ushanka - hats would become a theme, it turns out - with a gaudy gold dragon hanging off his neck. There were some generally unhealthy- looking stick figures from Extra making an appearance to quiz players on Madonna's ex-boyfriends before goading them into singing "Like a Virgin." There was a young man from Nickelodeon wearing a bright green-and-yellow superhero costume asking players about their game faces. There was a dude in a throwback football get-up not unlike the one's worn by George Clooney and John Krasinski in Leatherheads, asking players to don an 18th century tricorne hat. That was at least made a little more sense than the TV Azteca correspondent - a 20-something woman in a thin red dress that would make Victoria Beckham blush - asking players to wear a Mexican sombrero. To sum it up, there were just so many hats with no purpose.

Even some of the print reporters aren't exactly all there. One middle-aged reporter from Poland waited patiently under the cavernous roof of Lucas Oil Stadium for the following exchange with Patriots kicker Stephen Gostkowski:

Reporter: How Polish are you?

Gostkowski: Huh?

Reporter: How Polish are you? You look Polish. You have a Polish last name.

Gostkowski: I think someone on my dad's side is Polish.

Reporter: Do you speak any Polish?

Gostkowski: I do not. I've never been there. I think my great grandparents are from there. But my grandparents and parents are from here.

[awkward pause]

Reporter: Ummmm…. Any foods that you know?

Gostkowski: Perogies. And the anise cookies. My mom makes those for me.

Reporter: You like them the best?

Gostkowski: Yes, they are very good.

That's where the conversation ended. Inordinate amounts of money spent to fly this guy to the Super Bowl and ask Stephen Gostkowski about perogies. How do you even turn that into a story? I need to read this.

Of course, media day is supposed to be this way: all spectacle, little substance. It was once intended as a prime opportunity for press to question players and glean interesting nuggets of information for stories of a journalistic nature that would run in newspapers and magazines, whatever those are. No one needs to tell you times have changed. Still, most thought Tuesday was somewhat tamer than years past, which may be true but is probably influenced by the fact none of the players were proposed to. It's at least a mildly interesting day and fun to watch when condensed into a three-minute package for Sportsnet Connected. But you can truly sense the bubbling rage simmering barely below the surface of many in attendance, especially those wonderfully ornery coaches.

As Coughlin climbed down from his podium at the 50-yard line after an hour of people yelling at him - 'talk about the identity of this team!' - I asked him if he wished he could do this for another hour. "Oh, an hour at least. Why not more?" I believe field attendants are still working to mop up the sarcasm and disdain that spilled around him.