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Eleven years ago, I attended Dan Marino's Hall of Fame induction ceremony. The crowd was made up almost entirely of Dolphins fans. I imagine it was much the same thing for Packers fans yesterday when Brett Favre was inducted yesterday. However, I don't know, because I spent all day watching the Olympics.

I found out only after the fact that they canceled the Hall of Fame Game, the annual kickoff to the NFL preseason, because of poor field conditions. Apparently, no one had tested their field prior to today, and their choice of field paint made it too slick. That, or they worried that no one would be watching.

In years past, I've sometimes tuned into the HoF Game because there was nothing else to watch. But because of 5 NBC channels of Olympic coverage — including Michael Phelps own the men's 4x100-meter freestyle relay, Novak Djokavich loose a fantastic first round match of tennis, Gabby Douglas place third overall and still be disqualified from the all-around gymnastics competition — it never occurred to me to turn on the NFL Network. I suspect that I wasn't the only one.

Maybe I'll watch next year, NFL. But don't count on it. The Olympics come only every four years, but the NFL preseason is always too long.

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The arrival of the Olympics sort of killed my momentum with movies. Watching occasionally-live sports for 8 hours a day is surprisingly addictive. Personally, I blame Michael Phelps, who seems to be swimming every night in his quest to win more medals than anyone else in the history of the world. At the rate he's collecting precious metals, I figure he must be stockpiling for the coming apocalypse.

Anyway, let's just go ahead and get the rest of July out of the way. Enjoy it while it lasts. If the Olympics are any indication, movie-watching will come to a complete halt when football season finally arrives next month.

199. DOA: Dead or Alive (2006)
Maybe this is the best video game movie ever made. Watching real sexy girls fight is far more entertaining than watching computer-generated girls fight. And not a zombie in sight!

200. Comic-Con Episode IV: A Fan's Hope (2011)
This Morgan Spurlock documentary about Comic Con spends a lot of time emphasizing that the one-time king of comic book conventions is really now all about television and movies. That's no secret to those of us who have been paying attention for years, and is the main reason that I no longer want to attend the Con.

201. The Big Trees (1952)
Kirk Douglas plays a manipulative businessman in this movie, more the type of role that his son, Micheal, specializes in. They laugh alike, they walk alike, at times they even talk alike! What a crazy pair!

202. The Gamma People (1956)
This little British sci-fi flick takes place in a small, Eastern European kingdom that reminded me of the setting for Gymkata. Forget Total Recall; we're far overdue for a remake Gymkata!

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What does Batman eat when he needs the energy to maintain his never-ending-battle against the criminal element? Why, avacados, nature's super-food, of course!

In years past, Batman has appeared in comics advertising bubble gum, Lego, Onstar, and Claritin. For the world's richest costumed crime-fighter, that guy sure does a lot of shilling. That Michael Phelps sure must be a bad influence.

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Just when I thought it was safe to go back into the water: Michael Phelps is the new spokesman for Kellogg's Corn Flakes and Frosted Flakes cereals, and the media wants you to be very upset about it.

Apparently -- and this was news to me -- everyone in the world (except the clever bastards at Kellogg's) wanted Phelps to endorse General Mills' Wheaties, a cereal with much less sugar content and the iconic real estate to which Americans look for their annual re-definition of their sports role-model. (Olympic decathlete Bob Richards was the first athlete to appear on the front of a Wheaties box in 1958, and it's pretty much been a who's who of sport stars-of-the-moment for the 50 years since.) It seems that the Wheaties cover means something to people, and failing to appear on Wheaties must represent some sort of failing on the part of Phelps. (Nevermind that Kellogg's has already paid well over $70 million this summer alone to sponsor the Olympics and Team USA while Wheaties has spent nothing.) Worse still, Phelps' endorsement of Frosted Flakes (once called Sugar Frosted Flakes) is by many considered an endorsement of shoveling cane sugar into America's already obese children. How dare you make America more fat, Mr. Phelps?

I say America, make up your mind. Do you want Phelps as hero (world-conquering, invulnerable super-athlete) or Phelps as angel (life-affirming, affable boy-next-door)? Kellogg's wisely will take what they can get. After all, they have some experience with the original dual-identity sponsor, Superman, who proudly promoted their product during the televised Adventures of Superman starting in 1952, years before Wheaties began promoting athletes on the front of their box.

If Frosted Flakes is good enough for Superman, then it damn well ought to be good enough for Michael Phelps. If you need an orange Wheaties box to tell you who your heroes are, I think you've got bigger problems than even Michael Phelps can fix.

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Urgent announcement: I've found religion! And his name is Michael Phelps.

In the past week, I've heard how Phelps has overcome a childhood broken home and a crippling illness (ADHD) to become the greatest swimmer Olympian human being in the history of mankind. Did I say history of mankind? I meant ever. Anywhere. In the Universe. Who needs to walk on water when you can swim through it so fast? He even wins events despite his water-tight goggles filling with water. It must be a miracle.

On NBC, the anchors have coined such phrases as "an achievement of Phelpsian proportions" (in regards to the women's diving competition) while praising Phelps in a manner reminiscent of some religion based in Rome, including asking whether we weren't "underestimating Phelps amid all the hype." The most devoted of Phelps' Phollowers (I believe they call themselves Phelps Phans) is Chris Collinsworth, who moments after the completion of the 400 medley relay told gold medal-winner Jason Lezak that his greatest claim to fame would be helping Phelps win the relay events. Meanwhile, ESPN says that Phelps is the savior of the Olympic Games. ESPN wouldn't lie to me, would it?

All right, fine. Sign me up. If Michael Phelps is the greatest thing since Jesus, I want on board. I'll watch him as The Bachelor. I'll buy the products that the first mom, Debbie Phelps, the Official Mother of the Olympic Games, pitches for Johnson's. Heck, I'll even dash out and buy a pair of tighter-than-skin Speedos to wear while talking on my AT&T Wireless Phone on historic Ellis Island. That's what the Olympics are all about, right?

By the way, I just heard that Phelps' urine cures cancer. Maybe that's why everyone seems to have his dick in their mouth.

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