He lasted about as long as the dessert tray at Rosie O'Donnell's house.
Their offense is shakier than Katherine Hepburn after an all-night espresso bender at Starbucks.
I haven't seen someone so overmatched since Mike Tyson tried to recite the alphabet.
The punt returner got smacked like Nancy Kerrigan's knee on souvenir pipe night.
Hey Deion, Bubbelah - maybe you'd better pay a little less attention to those unfairly Draconian salary caps that only allowed you to acquire four of the five remaining 1932 Aston Martins still in road-worthy condition after you'd paid for life's little necessities like hookers and weed, get your medulla oblongata out of your duodenum for a few milliseconds, and make a tackle or two, okay, Babe?
Ouch! And Marino goes down quicker than his Boonesfarm-infused sister in the back of my '68 Cutlass on our first date after watching 'Love Story' at the drive-in.
That receiver was as wide open as Annabel Chong.
Ray Lewis knifed through those offensive linemen like a sucker-punch switchblade slicing between the ribs of some inebriated trash-talking punk outside a sports bar.
I haven't seen anyone rely on the ground game this much since the battle of Verdun.
The Cowboy's defense has more holes in it than Ronny Milsapp and Jose Feliciano after a game of lawn darts.
Somebody call Janet Reno - I think I just saw Donato dragging Doug Flutie into a locker room closet!
The quarterback's spending so much time behind the center that he may jeopardize his right to lead a Boy Scout troop.
Big deal, so he scored. The last time I saw someone dance like that I had to pay her $20 and have my pants dry cleaned the next day.
With Browns' ticket prices what they are, you just know that all those dads who brought the entire family to sit in the 'dog pound' are secretly calculating how much blood they're going to have to sell next week to put groceries on the table.
Detroit's so bad this year they might lose their bye week.
That secondary provides worse coverage than a Guatemalan HMO.
Concussion? How the hell can they tell? They're *football* players, for chrissakes!
Check out the helmet hair on Randy Moss, babe! He looks like some freakish anti-Mr. T after a long evening sleeping through 'Aida.'
That punt was higher than Marion Berry on a fact-finding tour of Cartagena.
That field goal attempt was so far to the left it nearly decapitated Lyndon LaRouche.
When the hell is Warren Moon going to retire? I mean, this guy is older than the cuneiform in Nebuchadnezzar's tomb.
Nervous? He's tighter than Pat Buchanan's sphincter muscle at a 4th of July soiree on Fire Island.
Is it just me, or are the 49ers doing an awful lot of ass-patting today?
I've seen better coverage at an Alan Keyes press conference.
That kid's got an arm like Uncle Fester at an exhibition of Pre-Colombian... um, Christ, I lost it. I was going for something thick. So what's with the beard, Grizzly Fouts?
