The defending champion Giants received an early Christmas present this year - a huge flaming kerfuffle wrapped up in fancy paper - none of that drugstore crap - with a shiny red ribbon, delivered down their chimney by Bad Santa himself, Plaxico Burress.  I’m sure you already know the details (unless you were still passed out from all the turkey and booze you ingested on Thursday) but let me recap anyway:  Plaxico - and I know it may shock you to find out he’s a frequent patron of such places - was out clubbing with his boyz Friday night when somehow, someway, the rod he was packing went off, sending a bullet through his own leg.  The wound itself, as things turned out, was actually the least of Plaxico’s problems - the bullet went right through his thigh without bothering anything important like bones or arteries, and he should be physically fine in a couple of weeks.  What’s not fine, and probably won’t be fine for a very long time, is Plaxico’s legal situation.  Cause Plax didn’t have a permit to carry a concealed handgun and, well, New York sort of frowns upon that kind of thing…frowns upon it to the point where such a violation carries a mandatory 3 1/2 year prison sentence.  I’m sure by now Plax’s lawyer has explained the meaning of “mandatory” to him, and that Plax is experiencing that special screwed feeling all over his whole body (minus the parts that are still numb after the surgery).

Yes this is bad news for the Giants, but it’s not like they haven’t won without Plaxico this year.  They can make the Super Bowl anyway.  Unfortunately, the Giants’ problems don’t end with Plaxico’s injury and possible imminent move to the hoosegow.  It’s since come out that Plax’s teammate Antonio Pierce was not only present at the time of the self-shooting, but for some reason, took the offending gun across the state line to New Jersey and stashed it.  Cause if there was anything that whole situation needed it was a comical attempt at getting rid of the evidence.  Now Pierce faces charges too.  And, just to add icing to the cake, it’s been reported that a third Giant may have been involved too.  I’m thinking this wasn’t what Tom Coughlin had in mind when he talked to the guys about building team unity.

Giants fans, I’m sure, are depressed as hell right now.  And why shouldn’t they be?  They were steamrolling their way to the Super Bowl, and now they face the possible loss of three key players, maybe more if things keep coming out the way they have been.  But, even in the darkest of moments, there are always silver linings.  I mean, yeah, shooting yourself in the leg is bad, but at least it was his own leg Plaxico shot.  At least he didn’t go all Diddy and shoot some ho in the eye.  At least he didn’t get his Ray Lewis on or, God forbid, his Rae Carruth.  There weren’t unidentified victims bleeding to death on the sidewalk when he got finished.  He didn’t have to get Al Cowlings on the horn and tell him to gas up the Bronco.  The whole thing was probably just an innocent mistake really - he just didn’t realize you needed a permit to carry a gun in a club.  And Pierce just had one of those flaky moments that can happen to anyone.  We’ve all been there, right?  Some pal just sent a round through his own thigh and you’re all like, “Damn.  I better drive the gun over to New Jersey and hide it in my ex-girlfriend’s laundry hamper.  They’ll never find it there.  And maybe I can pick up some Burger King on the way home.  I’m starved from all this misadventure.”  Yeah, it definitely could’ve been much worse.  Somebody could’ve had to call Harvey Keitel.  Somebody could’ve had to get a big syringe full of adrenaline and jab it through Uma Thurman’s ribcage into her heart.  Somebody could’ve had to get medieval on somebody’s ass.

I knew a lot of things about Chad Johnson.  I knew he was very creative.  I knew he had a pretty good right hook for a wide receiver.  I knew he liked to rock the gold grill like he was Flava Flav.  I knew he thought Cincinnati was a hell on earth.  What I didn’t know, until recently, was that he is a fool for Black Friday bargains.  Chad will even get up at the crack of dawn, throw on a dorky disguise and head out to Best Buy.  Check him out.  Would you suspect that the man in the black knit cap, oversized glasses and leather jacket was an NFL superstar?  That’s the great thing about Chad - he may be a celebrity beloved by millions, but he can still blend in with the rabble whenever he wants.  And he’s obviously a pretty skilled shopper too - he managed to score Rock Band 2 despite the hordes of overcaffeinated wack-jobs scurrying through the store like blind ants.  That’s where your athletic abilities come in handy.  Chad’s got the wheels and the shifty moves, and he also knows how to stiff-arm.  An old lady trying to bag the season’s hottest video game for her grandson?  She has no shot against Ocho.  Take that grandma!  Ooh, clean-up on aisle 5.  Old lady got her false teeth knocked out.  Too bad, but you know what they say:  All’s fair in love, war and mindless consumerism.

The question of the day:  Is Brian Urlacher purposely trying to give his 3-year-old son Kennedy a bad case of gender confusion?  Yes, that’s the sort of sentence that requires explanation.  Okay…so Brian is currently embroiled in a legal battle with Kennedy’s mom Tyna Robertson, who claimed in a legal filing that Brian painted the boy’s toenails blue and made him wear Cinderella diapers.  This has Tyna worried that her son is going to grow up a bit gayish if not flat-out effeminate.  Tyna says Kennedy called the Cinderella diaper “pretty” and complained about taking a bath because it would ruin the paint-job on his toes.  She seems to suggest that Brian and his girlfriend are doing this to Kennedy just to mess with her.  Brian’s lawyer shot back that Tyna is saying crazy stuff to the media to try and smear Brian.  And now we all know too much about what goes on behind-the-scenes of Brian Urlacher’s life.  Sort of casts that Old Spice commercial of his in a different light, doesn’t it?

It’s gonna take more than some crappy-smelling aftershave to fix Kennedy if Brian doesn’t cut it out.  Then again, maybe Tyna is over-reacting.  Maybe Brian is just showing how open-minded he is.  Maybe Brian is trying to teach little Kennedy that all this gender stuff is in our heads and it’s really perfectly okay for a man to paint his toenails and wear Cinderella undergarments if he wants to.  What kind of stuff does Brian wear under his uniform, I wonder?  Is he into Hello Kitty at all?  Does he like to pick flowers and skip around a lot?  Is the whole tough football player thing merely a facade?  Is the real Brian just itching to come out and prance and sing tunes from South Pacific and go dancing with Warren Sapp?

Stuff like this is why the old-timers are always accusing today’s players of being pansies.  Honestly - that whole toenail-painting thing?  That isn’t even really gay - it’s actually kind of normal for football players.  Ask Darren Sharper.  That dude makes Liberace look like Dick Butkus.  You know why Deion Sanders wouldn’t hit?  He didn’t want to mess up his manicure.  Urlacher probably doesn’t think there’s anything weird at all about what he’s doing with the kid.  Tyna’s the only one who’s worried about his future identity.  Maybe she should play football?  What’s her 40 time like?  I bet Tyna wouldn’t bitch over being laid out by Hines Ward.  She’d just smack him right back in his mouth.  Yup, the NFL definitely needs more Tynas.  And less nail-polish.

The people who power-ranked the Giants above the Titans have now been vindicated.  And what’s with all this strife in Tennessee now?  LenDale White acting like a little punk because he isn’t getting the ball?  Who does he think he is, Terrell Owens?   I thought Vince Young was the only headcase on that team.  Guess I was wrong.

The full power rankings after the jump:

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The Packers‘ pass defense went into their Monday nighter against the Saints with a reputation as the most bad-ass in the league.  Drew Brees and his birthmark scoffed at said reputation and proceeded to complete 20 of 26 passes for 323 yards and 4 TDs (most of it was Drew).  It was the worst ass-kicking I’ve seen since that time I pitted my neighbor’s Schnauzer against a pit bull I shot up with some stuff I pinched from Bill Romanowski’s medicine cabinet.  Boy was my neighbor mad.  Apparently they were fond of the Schnauzer.  They played with it and petted it and treated it like part of the family, and never once thought of slaughtering it for their own amusement.  It takes all kinds I guess…

But back to the Packers.  You would think a team with aspirations toward a division title would attempt to muster some defense, especially knowing that the two teams they were chasing had won the day before.  I guess the Packers just don’t want it bad enough.  I guess they’re content to finish third in the worst division not named the AFC West.  I guess Charles Woodson and Al Harris and Atari Bigby and those guys don’t mind being beaten like Javon Walker at a Vegas party.  Sort of sucks, considering how hard the offense tried.  Those guys put up 29, which really ought to be enough when you have the alleged most unbeatable secondary in the league.

So, just how bad was the Packers’ defense last night?  Jeremy Shockey caught five balls for 57 yards.  That’s a good month for him anymore - and he got it all in one game.  The Saints were really starting to regret that trade too, but they figure now, if they could somehow convince the NFL to let them play against the Packers’ defense every night, it would start to look a whole lot better.  Unfortunately for Shockey and the Saints, the NFL has this weird thing where you have to play a new team every week.  So Drew Brees will have to find a new pass defense to treat like his bitches.  And the Packers’ “tacklers” will have to find a new set of opponents to stare at gape-jawed and helpless.  Gap-control?  What’s that?  Something to do with a faggy clothing store?

Chiefs Offense Explodes for 31.  Defense Just Plain Explodes.

Another Blow For Gay Rights:  Brady Quinn Benched.

Pats Shove Giant, Bitter-Tasting 48-Point Plug Into Joey Porter’s Yap.

Eagles Save McNabb Further Embarrassment, Avoid Tie by 29 Points.

Fat Andy Gut-Bounces McNabb to Bench.

Cowboys Pull Down Niners’ Trousers, Play Wipeout on Their Ass-Cheeks.

Lions Win First Quarter 17-0, Lose Next Three 38-3.

It’s Official: Del Rio Sucks Worse Than Childress.

Old Fart Favre to Old Fart Dolphins: Pop the Champagne.  And Pass the Vicodin.  Slow So You Don’t Startle Me and Make Me Wet My Wranglers.

Rams Begin Off-Season…In Middle of Season.

Falcons Salute Vick, Go All Rabid Pit Bull on Panthers.

Jesus to Kurt Warner: You’re on Your Own Today, Buddy.

Seattle to Seahawks:  We Hear Oklahoma City is Really Beautiful.