He’s big. He’s agile. He’s got a go-get-em attitude.

Hilarous fat-man-dancing aside, this loss against the Titans can’t be laid at the feet of our defense. Our offense, to borrow a phrase beloved by hack sports pundits, just ain’t clicking. Not on all cylinders, not on a majority of the cylidners, not on any cylinders at all. Trying to pinpoint the problem is like playing whack-a-mole — as soon as you identify one problem area, three others come immediately to mind. Let’s enumerate them, shalle we?

* Peyton Manning is not a good quarterback right now. I don’t know if his knee is still an issue, if the lack of training camp continues to be a factor or if he’s just in an unprecedented slump, but Manning still isn’t himself. His accuracy is off and his attitude is even shittier than usual. I can understand the occasional grimace after stalled drives. But is it really necessary to make such a ridiculous show of one’s frustration and displeasure after every single missed pass or deflected pass? Does anyone else in the NFL do this? At what point does this type of behavior stop being the consequence of problems, and starts being the cause of them?

* Marvin Harrison is primed for the proverbial fork. He’s Patrick Ewing in the late ’90s. Everybody knows the team would be better without him — except him. And nobody has the balls or the wherewithal to man up and bench Marvin in favor of giving the faster, hungrier and presumably more sane Gonzalez more time. As long as this continues to be the case, the Colts will continue to fall short of their potential at the WR position.

* The defense remains weak. Yeah, they played OK against the Titans, but don’t let that 7-0 record fool you — with Kerry “Tom” Collins helming the offense, the Titans aren’t exactly a scoring juggernaut. Allowing them to post 31 points — all of them scored by the offense, no less — is symptomatic of a dysfunctional defense.

* The coaching is suspect. Dungy went for it twice on fourth down last night, and both times, we got stuffed. I’m not questioning the decision to go for it so much as the play-calling. We should have passed on that second fourth down. And while I’m on the subject, there was a really telling moment during last night’s broadcast when a close-up shot of Dungy caught him sighing in a completely exasperated, defeated way. I love Dungy, but I’m not sure that he’s the right kind of coach to pull the Colts out of a funk this deep.

Like I said, whack-a-mole. Sure, in an AFC this mediocre, the Colts have a good a chance as anyone to snag a wildcard berth. But at this point, I don’t see any rational fans holding their breath.

Ah, the sweet smell of overwhelming victory.

I know it doesn’t mean we’re Super Bowl-bound. I know it doesn’t mean we won’t come out against Green Bay next weekend and lay an enormous, room-clearing egg. And I know it doesn’t mean we won’t miss the playoffs for the first time in I don’t know how many years (as my friend Vinnie assured me would happen last weekend when it looked like we were dead in the water against the lowly Houston Texans).

But it does mean we still have the capacity to completely overpower offensively inferior teams with a combination of sheer talent and years of experience. Old Marvin Harrison even showed signs of life today, making the kind of moves on defending cornerbacks that reminded us why he’s a future Hall of Famer. Forget for a moment that, even if he didn’t shoot the guy who’s filing a civil suit against him in Philadelphia, he is almost certainly involved. There was something heartwarming about how he had an extra spring in his step when he realized he was going to get to the end zone untouched on that first quarter touchdown. And only the most cynical among us weren’t thinking “Aw, shucks!” when the camera showed his young son smiling beatifically toward someone in the crowd later in the game.

Marvin’s throwback performance was a bonus in this game. We can’t expect it on a regular basis at this point in his career. The real reason this game was so deeply satisfying is because it erased the concerns so many of us harbored about the Colts’ ability to play solid defense against the run. The Colts’ run-stuffing D against the Ravens means even more because it happened without the help of the Big Panacea, Bob Sanders. What’s more, the beleaguered Melvin Bullitt finally proved his worth as an NFL player, getting an interception and generally flying around the field like a caffeinated pinball.

When it was suggested that last week’s freak comeback win against the Texans might provide a springboard for the Colts, I thought it was the worst kind of wishful thinking. I was wrong. Bullitt, Robert Mathis, Gary Brackett, Freddy Keiaho and the rest of the defensive corps played with a sense of urgency that has eluded the Ponies since the 2006 playoffs.

Will it last? I doubt it. But the Colts proved today that, although it’s unclear how much of “it” they still have, some of it remains in their tank. And those of us who hang our hat on that kind of thing get to enjoy the luxury of having somewhere to hang our head-warming devices for at least another week.

With the bye week blues still here, I decided to make a list of my choices for all-time best Indianapolis Colts to fill the void. I initially wanted to do five at every position, but some are just too thin to merit that many. I also wanted to stick to players who spent the majority of their careers with the Colts, but that was impossible as well.

Quarterbacks

1. Peyton Manning
2. Jim Harbaugh
3. Jeff George
4. Jack Trudeau 

Running Backs

1. Edgerrin James
2. Marshall Faulk
3. Eric Dickerson
4. Albert Bentley

Fullbacks

1. Roosevelt Potts
2. Zack Crockett

Wide Receivers

1. Marvin Harrison
2. Bill Brooks
3. Reggie Wayne
4. Jessie Hester
5. Sean Dawkins 

Tight Ends

1. Ken Dilger
2. Marcus Pollard
3. Dallas Clark
4. Pat Beach

Offensive Tackles

1. Tarik Glenn
2. Chris Hinton
3. Ryan Diem
4. Zefross Moss
5. Kevin Call 

Guards

1. Ron Solt
2. Jake Scott
3. Ryan Lilja
4. Steve McKinney

Centers

1. Ray Donaldson
2. Jeff Saturday
3. Kirk Lowdermilk 

Kickers

1. Mike Vanderjagt
2. Dean Biasucci
3. Cary Blanchard
4. Raul Allegre

Defensive Ends

1. Dwight Freeney
2. Jon Hand
3. Donnell Thompson
4. Tony Bennett 

Defensive Tackles

1. Tony Siragusa
2. Tony McCoy
3. Ellis Johnson
4. Larry Tripplett 

Outside Linebackers

1. Duane Bickett
2. Johnie Cooks
3. Mike Peterson
4. Marcus Washington
5. Quenton Coryatt

Inside Linebackers

1. Jeff Herrod
2. Barry Krauss
3. Gary Brackett
4. Rob Morris
5. Cliff Odom 

Cornerbacks

1. Eugene Daniel
2. Ray Buchanan
3. Nick Harper
4. Chris Goode

Strong Safeties

1. Bob Sanders
2. Nesby Glasgow
3. Chad Cota
4. Mike Doss 

Free Safeties

1. Jason Belser
2. Mike Prior
3. Idrees Bashir
4. Antoine Bethea

Punters

1. Chris Gardocki
2. Rohn Stark
3. Hunter Smith 

Kick Returners

1. Clarence Verdin
2. Terrence Wilkins
3. Aaron Bailey

Punt Returners

1. Clarence Verdin
2. Terrence Wilkins
3. Bill Brooks

When the NFL owners opted out of the current CBA (Collective Bargaining Agreement) with the NFL Players Association in May of this year, they had good reason: the current economics simply do not work. Owners cited numerous reasons for opting out: player costs, stadium construction, operations and improvements, and the current woes of the U.S. economy. But, the final straw happened on February fifth when a federal judge made a horrible ruling (what’s new?).

The Atlanta Falcons had lost their franchise quarterback when he was sentenced to a 23-month jail sentence for being the head of a dog-fighting ring. The Falcons sought to recover the nearly $20 million in bonus money Vick had received upon signing his rookie contract. In October of 2007, a special master had ruled that Vick would have to pay it back because he had used the money to finance his illicit activities.

The NFL Players Association countered by asking a federal judge to overturn the decision. U.S. District Judge David Doty of Minneapolis obliged. He ruled that recovery of most of the bonus money would violate the NFL CBA. The NFL was livid to say the least.

“It makes no sense that an individual who willfully violates his contract is entitled to be paid tens of millions of dollars even though he is in jail and providing no services whatsoever to his employer,” NFL spokesman Greg Aiello said in a statement.

With all the legal troubles that numerous players have faced in recent years, the NFL had no choice but to opt out. The union, sticking up for a convicted felon, had effectively destroyed the agreement.

So now, the league is faced with the prospects of the end of the salary cap as well. In 2010 the salary cap is most likely to be removed. Under NFL guidelines, there will still be restrictions: the top eight teams will have to offset any free agent contract they take on. There is no way this will happen. Successful teams are already restricted by the draft order. Owners like Jerry Jones, Daniel Snyder, and Robert Kraft will not accept this.

If a new CBA is not reached before 2010, it is quite possible the NFL will implement a soft cap similar to the one used in the NBA. Small market teams will slowly be hurt by this. The NBA has twelve-man rosters, whereas, the NFL has fifty-three. It won’t be as bad as MLB, but teams like the Colts will rarely compete for a Super Bowl.

Dear NFL Network marketing person who green-lighted the use of a cover of Morrissey’s “Everyday Is Like Sunday” in your TV commercials:

Forget for a moment that the song is about life in a boring seaside town “that they forgot to bomb,” where “every day is silent and gray.” Forget that Morrissey is the very embodiment of everything your average red-blooded, Ford-truck driving NFL fan either hates, fears or mocks: pacifism, homosexuality, liberalism, meat-abstinence, fashion, poofy hair. Forget that a growing number of NFL fans actually aren’t red-blooded Ford truck driving men at all, but college-educated Subaru- or Volvo-driving folks with a broad range of interests that often includes ’80s and ’90s British pop music. Many of these NFL followers are familiar with and in many cases even big fans of Morrissey’s work, and are therefore totally aware of the song’s origin in spite of you having hired a generic country singer to deliver just the titular line. And now you’ve gone and unwittingly indoctrinated us to associate Morrissey (fey, effeminate, anti-violence, British) with the NFL Network (aggressive, macho, pro-violence, American) and vice versa.

Forget all of that. Instead, think about this: You’re using the song to entice those who don’t already have the NFL Network to get it, suggesting it will make every day like Sunday. However, most psychologically healthy people associate Sundays with things other than football: the end of the weekend, yard work, church, the lack of liquor sales, having to go to the office the following day. Most of us would strongly prefer not to live in a world where every day was like it.

What I’m trying to tell you, NFL Network, is that your marketing sucks on both a strategic level and on a purely cosmetic level. If you want to crib from Morrissey in the future, here’ s a song that may be more up your alley.

I was having a conversation with a friend the other day. I asked him about the Colts injuries and he quickly rattled off the status of Saturday, Clark, Ugoh, etc. He also pointed out that Bob Sanders left last Sunday’s game with an ankle injury and that his status was unknown.  Full of wisdom, I offered this thought:

“Seems like we’d know about it if it were serious.”

A couple hours later, I heard that Sanders will, in fact, be missing up to six weeks with a high ankle sprain. Nice.

"I'll be back for you in six weeks"

This news, in addition to their shaky start, will probably take the Colts off the media radar, in terms of real contenders. I ultimately think this is a good thing, as the Colts haven’t always fared well under constant media scrutiny and (arguably self-imposed) pressure.  That, to me, is the good news.

It seems like the Colts have had an uncanny ability to avoid injuries over the last four or five years.  All of this changed when Harrison was bent up like a folding chair last season. Until that moment, we had been lucky, but Harrison’s injury may have marked a turning point. As age catches up with our players, we may be gearing up for more of what’s looking like an unfortunate trend.  That, to me, is the bad news. It’s safe to say our 13-0 starts will likely be a thing of the past.

That said, I still contend that if we’re healthy and practiced when the playoffs roll around, we’re as good as any team. Seems like it, anyway.

One of the more unfortunate recent trends in cable news punditry is the presence of the Body Language Analyst. Although they sometimes do make good points, they mostly point out the obvious while punctuating their observations with wild speculation. For example, here’s what one might say about the body language of Peyton Manning.

“My area of expertise doesn’t typically include the vascular, but I think it’s safe to say that vein on his head is projecting a feeling. It’s as if he’s angry or disappointed, like something just didn’t go the way he had hoped.”

“The camera caught Peyton during his pregame workout, which is of course always telling because it’s a very candid time. His eyes are totally dialed in. It has to be his wife, right? (Laughter) I know, it’s totally inappropriate. But look at how much weight he’s lost! (More laughter) Anyway, who else is going to be at the stadium that early and get such a strong contraction from his upper brow?”

“OK, if you aren’t an expert, it might seems obvious he’s calling a play. But look more closely — and you really have to, sometimes — he’s literally ‘up in arms.’ Is that a fanny pack he’s wearing? Maybe that has something to do with it.”

Eagles players aren’t much smarter:

I don’t play fantasy football and I don’t have a vested interested in Dallas, Philadelphia or DeSean Jackson, but I found myself desperately hoping Dallas would force a turnover or hold Philadelphia to a field goal.  I was terribly disappointed when Westbrook scored, thereby letting Jackson off the hook.  I’m not opposed to showboating, dancing or even borrowing a cheerleader’s pom-poms in self-praise, but you really should concentrate on the touchdown before the touchdown celebration.

Start time: 5:05 p.m. EST.

* The Jets have the ball for first and goal against the Pats. Three hand-offs to Thomas Jones for three stuffs. A pretty impressive goal line stand for the Patriots, and a reminder that they’re multi-dimensional enough to remain dangerous during the Matt Cassel Era. Cassel has continued to look solid, by the way, throwing short routes with laser accuracy and managing to not make any bonehead decisions. He comes from a family of excellent athletes — his big brother Jack pitches for the Astros and his younger brother, Justin, plays minor league ball for the Chicago White Sox system. I wouldn’t rule out a gutsy performance throughout the season from him.

* Where is Laurence Maroney? He has looked absolutely explosive in the few times I’ve seen him against the Colts. Yet the Pats seem to be using Sammy Morris just as much if not more than Maroney so far this year.

* Veteran kicker Olindo Mare nails a figgie to put the Seahawks up 17-6 over the J.T. O’Sullivan-led ‘49ers (the announcer keeps calling him “Sullivan.” Talk about no respect.). The weather in Seattle seems to be mocking everyone east of Utah.

* It’s good to see Robert Sean Leonard — the student who killed himself in “Dead Poets Society” — working again. Even if it’s on “House.”

* I’m almost certain I just heard Moose of the Kenny, Moose and Goose announcing team on Fox openly cheer for the Seahawks’ Leonard “The Face Cleaver” Weaver as he chased down Patrick Willis as he returned an interception 86 yards for a touchdown.

* Hasselbeck is intercepted for the second time in two consecutive drives, and this time the tipped ball lands in the hands of a diving Walt Harris. Moose conspicuously silent. Score’s 20-20.

*Frank Gore bounces off the O-line and walks it in for a TD to give San Fran the lead. In other news, J.T. O’Sullivan — he of the name better suited for a steakhouse franchise — is a fan of Ayn Rand and the Coen Brothers, but oddly says his very favorite movie is the 1987 cornball surfer flick “North Shore.”

* Kurt Warner is making mincemeat of Miami. May not seem like much, but if he can get into lasting sync with talented receivers Fitzgerald and Boldin, the Cards could be a factor for the first time since they moved from St. Louis.

* Fox has been running commercials for Culver’s (famous for ButterBurgers) these past couple of weeks, and it had confused me since I’d never heard of the burger chain. So I visited their Web site to find out that there are actually eight Culver’s (how do you pluralize that in this case?) in the Indy area.  I also learned, to my mild disappointment, that butter isn’t actually cooked into the beef patty of a ButterBurger. Rather it’s served on a “lightly” buttered bun. I’m not quite sure what they’re trying to achieve by calling it a ButterBurger, which only makes it sound far more inimical to one’s arterial health than it actually is.

* I am not one of those guys who insists you “gotta love” Brett Favre. But I admire the way he just tried to block for himself as big Adalius Thomas brought him down. Thomas got him by the jersey, and instead of going down Favre tried to fight Thomas off with a stiff arm. You don’t see enough of that kind of foolish moxy from NFL quarterbacks. Still, the Jets lose to the Brady-less Pats.

* O’Sullivan with a bloodless 30-yard pass to Isaac “That guy’s still around?” Bruce on third and long late in the fourth quarter. Alex Smith fake cheers.

* Typically I wouldn’t even consider watching a Fox drama. But “Fringe” (created by J.J. Abrams) intrigues me since it stars Lieutenant Daniels from “The Wire,” who wears a trench coat and stares ominously into the distance during the the 1.3 seconds he appears in the preview. Wikipedia calls the show a cross between “The X-Files,” “Altered States” and “The Twilight Zone.” I’m even more intrigued.

*Jay Cutler throws an INT and suddenly the Broncos, who’d been leading all game, look like they’re going to lose to the Chargers. My pick-em sheet thanks you, Mr. Cutler.

*Joe Nedney’s streak of 32 in a row from inside 50 yards ends with :00 on the clock. The Seahawks and ‘49ers go to overtime. American viewers everywhere groan.

* O’ Sullivan to Bruce for 30 and change to save the drive in OT amid a raucous Seattle crowd. Amazing. I’m loving this unproven-and-unrespected-quarterback to receiver-who’s-best-days-should-be-behind-him thing.

* Cutler’s throw/drop on San Diego’s 10-yard line being reviewed now … It’s ruled a fumble, but Denver gets to keep the ball thanks to Ed Hochuli’s unnecessary whistle. Hochuli’s one of the best, but he screwed the pooch — or really, the Chargers, if the Broncos can get it into the endzone — on this one. I guess killer biceps don’t make you infallible after all.

* Denver scores. Goes for two. Gets it. The Chargers have to be seething. Twenty-four seconds remaining. Gonna need a miracle. If I am a Chargers fan, I am profoundly pissed off.

* Nedney wins it in overtime for the ‘49ers. Southward, the Bolts have one last chance for a Hail Mary they should never have been forced to throw. The Hail Mary fails. San Diego hates life, but at least they get to be in San Diego. Meanwhile me and my pick-em sheet are stuck here in the blustery midwest. Time for dinner.

End time: 7:39 p.m. EST.