The NFL postseason is not about football. It exists for analysis and prediction. Media = Message. The games are secondary to the build-up. We are judged on the veracity of our predictions (guesses) and the sheer weight of our critiques.

You know the routine. An earnest man in sharp suit stares into the camera, points a pencil at the folks at home and says, "I'm telling you, place-kicking will decide this one. The team that wins the special-teams battle wins the game. Therefore, Falcons."

Then the guy next to him repeats the process (maybe he uses a pen) and says, "That's ridiculous. This game will be won in the trenches. Ball control and time of possession. Packers."

	Steve should print a couple resumes in case Shockey and Tiki get hot.

It's all good, empty fun, but the average viewer -- the guy without an inherent rooting or monetary interest -- needs to adjust his attitudes accordingly. He needs to base his picks on what happens inbetween the games. With six days to fill, what do you want to hear? Whose hard-luck story do you want to know?

In the public interest, First Weekend picks, based entirely on the expected storylines:

Giants at 49ers: Steve Mariucci loses, Steve Mariucci gets fired. Can he save his job with a postseason run? Not particularly fresh, but relatively innocuous. Nobody gets hurt, and there's always a college basketball game on The Deuce. However, the specter of a Terrell Owens outbreak hangs over the proceedings. How much do you really care about the sales of Sharpie pens? If the Giants win, you have to ask yourself one question -- just how much more Jeremy Shockey are you willing to be force-fed? There's a chance the Shockey smorgasbord is a hedge against the possibility of a Giants loss. Get it all out there now, just in case he's not around next week. Still, it's not a risk we're willing to take.
Pick: 49ers

Falcons at Packers: Will the aging star quarterback retire if his team wins it all? A purely contrived angle, concocted by people forced to write and talk for six days between games, but it's just getting started. Be forewarned. Also, Packers-Bucs looms, with teary-eyed sit-down with Chad Clifton. For Falcons, will young star quarterback be able to revive his season and take his plucky, undertalented team to greater heights? Remember the last time Dan Reeves made it to the Super Bowl? That's right -- endorsement opportunities.
Pick: Packers

Browns at Steelers: The Browns are Parity's Children. Guys with bulldog masks yell into the camera, barking steamy breath throughout your home. Is Butch Davis a genius? Coming up: Bernie Kosar talks with Deion Sanders. The Steelers are Tommy Maddox's team, so let's watch that hit one more time. The stretcher on the field. How did it feel? Is Kordell Stewart holding up okay? Bill Cowher spits as he demands a replay.
Pick: Steelers

Colts at Jets: Peyton Manning fights the devil. Tony Dungy proves himself. A couple of Colts wins spawns nationwide search for Ryan Leaf. What about a Bucs-Colts Super Bowl? Wouldn't Dungy love that? A Jets win means shirtless fat guys wearing beer helmets yelling "J-E-T-S."
Pick: Colts

This Week's List

As he might say, "I'm not trying to be cute, but …": The first time Bill Parcells looks down the sideline and sees Jerry Jones' wax-museum face mouthing the words, "Middle screen" he might regret his decision.

It might be the last vestige of Old School in college football: Watching a defensive end for Georgia wearing No. 10 and rushing the passer like a Hellfire missile.

What Mike Price accomplished by sticking around when he should have gone away: 1) Made Washington State people say, "We could have played like that without him," and; 2) Made Alabama people say, "Hmmm."

This relationship could provide enough material for an insipid, long-running sitcom or a Sopranos-style guilty pleasure: Tom Coughlin, head coach, Cincinnati Bengals.

Just for the heck of it: Chet Parlavecchio.

At some point in their careers, they all said they'd play for nothing, so now's their chance to prove it: Ottawa Senators, skating pro bono.

I've emptied my bank account in an attempt to collect on the tied-up Nigerian fortune, I've applied for loans I didn't need, I've bought ink cartridges by the truckload, but there's only one spam e-mail subject line that makes my heart race and my hopes soar: "To correctly maintain septic tanks."

Apparently he came straight from the Jeff Kent School of Diplomacy: There seemed to be a slight hint of Texas twang to some of Parcells' words during his first press conference as a Cowboy.

You can cite the charm, politeness and diplomacy, but Parcells gave himself away with one telling trait: Referring to himself in the third person, as in, "I know Bill Parcells is not for everyone in this league."

New Year's Eve as it used to be: Bluebonnet Bowl, the Mizlou Network, Howard David at the mike.

In a somewhat related story, the results of the Humanitarian Bowl sparked a huge run on "Boise State" tats throughout Iowa: An unlucky bloke in Plymouth, England, lost a bet with a friend and had to have "Manchester United" tattooed on his chest.

And finally, because everyone deserves a good Do-Over: Tune in next Saturday to watch Washington State battle Iowa in The Goodwill Industries Mulligan Bowl.

Tim Keown is a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at tim.keown@espnmag.com.