We've all been there, watching the game with the kids when The Commercial comes on. Okay, if it isn't the kids it's your wife or girlfriend or mom or mother-in-law. In any case, you're watching The Commercial and you wish you weren't.

	Everyone remembers the talking frogs.

The Commercial makes you deal with things you shouldn't have to deal with when you're sitting down to watch a game. The Commercial makes you uncomfortable. The Commercial makes you want to stand up and say, "I don't have the Spice channel for a reason, capisce?" But now, in a way, you do. They're jamming The Commercial at you, all in the name of beer.

Before The Commercial -- and before Fox promos, but that's another story -- you could watch a ballgame with the kids and not worry about diving for the remote.

The Commercial changed all that.

Remember when Joe Greene tossed the jersey? Remember talking frogs?

Now there's torn clothes and man-made chests and mud wrestling. If you're really lucky, you get the version that ends with one saying to the other, "Wanna make out?"

That one might only be in certain markets, chosen by actuaries.

It's effective, give 'em that. It's The Commercial, after all, and nobody else can say that. It's cheeky and edgy and delivered with a wink. It hits all the demographic targets for a football game. Clever, I suppose.

Tastes great, you might say, with horrible taste.

This Week's List

Just a word of warning to any of you who are thinking of venturing down I-880 near 66th or Hegenberger: They're there already, wearing their skulls and Cliff Branch jerseys, and they've been there since Thursday.

Someone needs to keep records on stuff like this: Has there ever been a more potentially rowdy championship Sunday than this one, with the Raiders at home and the Eagles playing in the final football game at the Vet?

Bring the film crew from the United Way commercials: If you've ever seen the scene at a Raiders' regular-season game at San Diego, you have a pretty good idea why Ol' Tags might be doing a little inner rooting for the Titans this weekend.

And this week on ESPN Classic … : The end of the road for The Vet recalls the story an old baseball man told me about his enduring image of the last game at Philly's Shibe Park -- watching a grown man walking out of the stadium with a urinal held over his head like a war prize.

They're all saving up to watch Art Howe smile benignly and scratch his head when something goes wrong: The New Jersey Nets are 26th in the NBA in home attendance.

And they're saving up to watch Jeff Kent and Richard Hidalgo play slappy-face in a mid-May dugout scuffle: The Rockets, despite the Yao phenomenon, have sold out just three games.

It's called a challenge, and he's up to it: First Mike Bibby thoroughly outplayed Jason Kidd in New Jersey, then he thoroughly outplayed Steve Nash on Wednesday night.

And the runner-up gets to spend a week inside Bill Romanowski's brain: A new reality show is in the works, and the winner gets the chance to train for six months and then go into the ring with Mike Tyson.

Just for the heck of it: Steve Stipanovich.

We'll start the bidding at … wait, where'd everybody go: The Raiders, apparently operating with a straight face, auctioned off a date with Sebastian Janikowski at a December charity bachelor auction.

Call for a free quote!: Georgetown coach Craig Esherick is available to lead your next revival meeting.

What happens when numbers rule the world: If you watched baseball at any point in the '70s or '80s, you know there's something wrong with a Hall of Fame that includes Don Sutton and not Goose Gossage.

How the Baseball Hall of Fame voting differs from other sports: Voters in the other sports seem to go out of their way to find reasons to put people in, while baseball people concoct reasons for keeping people out.

You've heard of livin' large?: Unless Michael Jordan averages more than 20 points a game the rest of the season, Wilt Chamberlain -- dead since 1999 -- will regain his status as holder of the highest per-game scoring average in league history.

It was either a nasty fever dream, or it was Fox: If I'm not mistaken, I think I was flipping the channels earlier this week and saw a team of dwarfs pulling an airplane in a race against an Asian elephant.

And finally, after a fierce struggle with the 44 little people, the elephant won and claimed his grand prize: A date with Joe Millionaire.

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