Ah, T.O, what would we do without your predictable buffoonery?  Clearly he hasn’t seen too many hockey games.  Yes, hockey players get into fights and are back on the ice five minutes later.  Except they are manly enough to square off face-to-face before any punches are thrown.  They don’t sucker-punch the other guy when he’s not looking.  Well, Sean Avery does but he’s an even a bigger bitch than Richard Seymour.

Speaking of which, Mario Lemieux recently paid Ben Roethlisberger the ultimate compliment by saying his rearranged schnozz made him “look like a hockey player.”  I kid Big Ben about being a Drama Queen but I would never call him soft.  Just because he plays up his injuries to sound more heroic doesn’t mean they don’t exist.  Besides, anybody who has his nose knocked sideways like a defective Mr. Potatohead and doesn’t miss a snap is pretty tough in my book.

Soft is a word best used to describe a headcase prima donna wide receiver who hasn’t thrown a block or made a catch in traffic his entire career.

Ben’s nose job has inspired one of the best product tie-ins in recent memory.   I haven’t done a “Pittsburgh Steelers Holiday Gift Guide” in a couple years but if I were to bring it back, this t-shirt would definitely be on it. It’s pretty much the ultimate gift for the female Steeler fan in your life.  Seriously, any guy with a wife or girlfriend cool enough to wear one of these should consider himself lucky for finding a keeper.

Preach on, Ryan Clark.

A day after the Baltimore Ravens unrelenting thuggery was on full display for a national television audience yet was somehow missed by the stripe-shirted men actually paid to watch the action, the NFL has levied fines for their goonish behavior.  Of course as Clark points out, it’s too little, too late.  The entire point of protecting quarterbacks or banning helmet-to-helmet blows is to discourage them from occurring during the game.

If players knew they wouldn’t suffer any consequences until 24 hours after the fact, I’m sure a few of them wouldn’t mind footing the bill for mussing up Tom Terrific’s pretty boy looks.

The major fine came in the form of a $40,000 debit for Jameel McClain’s attempted decapitation of Heath Miller.   Apparently beheading is legal according to Sunday night’s officiating crew.  I’m shocked McClain was fined at all since the last couple helmet-to-helmet blows (including the filthy cheap shot which knocked Hines Ward out of the Patriots game) went unpunished.   I see the key to getting in serious trouble is to commit your malicious actions in prime time.

Or play for the Black and Gold.

The other fine was a pitiful $15,000 slap on the wrist to serial punk Haloti Ngata for smacking Ben Roethlisberger in the face.  Big Ben underwent minor surgery yesterday to restore his herculean nose to its former glory.  Ngata’s in the wrong line of work.  There are tons of airhead Hollywood celebutards who’d pay ten times that amount to have their coke-lined honkers reconstructed.

Besides wishing Ngata was penalized by the two refs WHO WERE STARING RIGHT AT HIM when he smashed Ben’s snoot, I was hoping for a real fine.  James Harrison writes check in $25,000 increments for far less because he’s “a repeat offender.”  Meanwhile, Ngata is a well-known goon, among the league’s dirtiest players, having been fined $10k less than two weeks ago for a late hit.

Why has his amount gone up a mere $5,000 while Silverback’s jumped from $5k for his german suplex on Vince Young to $75,000 for the sweet annihilation of Mohammed Massaquoi back down to $25k for the bogus flag on Ryan Fitzpatrick?

Because the Ginger Dictator has no freakin’ clue, that’s why.  Everything the league does is based on the random whims of this power-hungry despot.  Actually, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he has his big-boobed secretary personal assistant spin a color-coded Wheel of Justice and wherever it lands, that’s your fine.  I can just picture him jumping up and down and shouting, “Big money!  C’mon, big money!” whenever a Pittsburgh Steeler comes up for judgment.

Now that I think about it, no wonder Bret Favre hasn’t been punished for eye-raping a Jets employee with vile pictures of his love gun water pistol.  Despite a mountain of evidence he sexually harassed that poor out-of-work ho, the league has dragged their feet for almost three months.  Clearly, Ginger promised Jenn Sterger she could be the league’s secret Vanna White if she keeps quiet long enough for #4 to pack up his Wranglers and fade off into the sunset.

It finally makes sense!