Media day: The circus comes to town
As we shuffled off our buses Tuesday morning and into narrow back-and-forth cattle chutes in the parking lot at Dolphin Stadium, for security purposes, one wag ran his hand atop the chute fencing and queried, ''No barbed wire?''
OK, the wag was I. Coffee-less and embittered.
Still, for all its dehumanizing elements -- the players sit in booths inside the arena like carnival freaks, the interviewers surge from booth to booth like hayseed rubber-neckers -- this 41st media day wasn't too bad.
As our roiling information army exploded out of the stadium runways and downward toward the field -- one wag even baa-ing like a sheep --the blue booths looked magnificent against the orange seats and bright grass.
The Bears had come first, all in their navy blue game jerseys and white pants, waiting for us like tour guides.
The lesser lights stood in groups or sat in the stands near their name placards.
The heavies sat in shaded, personal mini-structures, stretching from goal line to goal line, spaced roughly every 10 yards, 12 in all.
From west to east: Lance Briggs, Thomas Jones, Peanut Tillman, Brian Urlacher, Alex Brown, Rex Grossman (approximately 50-yard line), Olin Kreutz, coach Lovie Smith (not in uniform), Bernard Berrian, Devin Hester, Adewale Ogunleye, Muhsin Muhammad.
It likely was an oversight not to put the embattled Tank Johnson in his own shelter because the voyeuristic out-of-town media swarmed to probe him and his gun issues like proctologists.
To drift through the babel was to get a splendid and varied slide show of this circus.
Grossman, from Bloomington, Ind., spoke of the foes. ''The Colts were the team I grew up with,'' he said. ''Growing up and being able to go to a lot of NFL games cemented my dream to be here.''
He even suggested that this whole Super Bowl scrutiny thing was fun.
''Everybody wants to know all the side plots, and that's exciting to us,'' he said. ''It's not that big a deal. I'm just answering questions.''
One of which was about whether he stunk.
''Other than the first half of the Green Bay game, I finished strong,'' he replied. ''That half was really bad, but I played my best football at the end.''
Hester was humbled and perhaps a bit confused.
''For me to be a rookie and be in the Super Bowl, that's a great honor,'' he said. ''It's probably the biggest game of my career.''
Bigger than the 2005 Peach Bowl?
Ogunleye was being interviewed by teammate Brandon McGowan, a common shtick, with McGowan holding a WGN microphone.
''And what's your favorite meal?'' McGowan asked.
''Uh, collard greens, sweet potatoes ...''
Muhammad was his usual unflappable self, guarded and focused and wary.
''I'm going to seize the moment,'' he said. ''I'm not going to get caught up in the aura around me. I'm going to focus on what's right in front of me.''
That would have been the hundreds and hundreds -- thousands? -- of media creatures.
Just beyond the main swirl of creatures, cornerback Nate Vasher sat quietly in the stands, addressing decorum here in Miami, a place that had claimed, for instance, Falcons safety Eugene Robinson, who got nabbed soliciting a police officer disguised as a hooker before the 1999 Super Bowl.
''We travel in groups, look out for each other,'' Vasher said. ''You do not want to be that one guy. The Miami police came in and talked to us, told us they're running more sting operations than ever.''
Down below, Tank Johnson, on probation, had turned into a social commentator, analyzing what has gone wrong with our country.
''Too many cowards out there,'' he said. ''And it all stems from violence on TV.''
Not that the NFL promotes guys getting jacked up or anything.
Kreutz sat in his booth, looking uncomfortable and out of place and forlorn.
Somebody wanted to know if the native Hawaiian liked beach sports as a kid.
''I wrestled,'' he said. ''I'm not a beach guy.''
Did he counsel Tank Johnson?
''Tank doesn't need counseling,'' Kreutz said. ''I have to counsel myself half the time.''
What about the flawless game grass? I asked. How about that?
Kreutz turned for a quick look.
''Yeah, it's nice,'' the Bears center said. ''It's green. Nice question.''
I moved on.
Had to get a sample of the really good ones, the stupidest questions of the day, the ones that dwarfed mine.
Tillman: ''Had a guy from Telemundo, had a hand puppet, said to me, 'What do you think about this being the new Bears mascot?'''
And then there was Urlacher, fidgeting in his little house, ready to bolt, for the final query. The dumbest question. Of all.
''Somebody asked me how did I get my huge biceps and tight butt.''
And then it was the Colts' turn.
Letters to our sports columnists appear Sunday. Send e-mail to inbox@suntimes.com. Include your full name, hometown and a daytime phone number.