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Patriots fans are torn this week, sleepwalking their way through Sunday's AFC Title Game battle between Sodom and Gomorrah. 

Which is less evil to New Englanders? The Colts or the Jets in the Super Bowl? 

An Indianapolis appearance in Miami solidifies the Colts as one of the premier franchises of the decade, inches them (and Peyton Manning) closer to the Patriots (and Tom Brady's) dynastic run of the 2000's. Plus, it polishes the shoes of the sniping Bill Polian. 

A New York win on Sunday means a hated rival validates its bombastic, arrogant and swagga-licious approach to the season, while placing its insufferable coach on the podium for another two weeks. 

While another 14 days of Peyton Manning commercials (some funny, others not) could turn a Pats fan red, there would be nothing quite as aggravating as Gang Green's incessant chirping during Super Bowl week. 

The Jets, led by Bart Scott and Kerry Rhodes, have been telling everyone who would listen all season just how terrific the "new Jets" were. 

"Have you heard? We're great." 

Usually, that's for others to decide. Especially when you were a .500 team who tanked in the final two-months of last season and needed a complete retooling of the coaching staff and front office. 

But the Jets were adamant they would punch other teams in the mouth (and short of that, might punch themselves as well. They were embroiled in numerous intrasquad battles during training camp). 

Imagine Unsexy Rexy, complete with white turtleneck and black sweater vest choking the life from his XXXL gullet, waxing poetic about how all the experts were wrong and his team should never have been counted out (despite he himself admitting the playoffs were a pipe dream at 7-7 before a pair of teams decided to lay down in the season's final two weeks). 

If Patriots Nation is still not sold on pulling for the Colts to win this game, the final straw should come decked out in a fireman's helmet. 
Ask yourself this: Can you handle Fireman Eddie and tens of thousands of knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing Jets fans descending from their caves in Hempstead, Long Island and Clifton, New Jersey to take over Super Bowl week? 

Vinnie from Mahwah has his parent's time-share in Del Boca Vista where he and his buddies from Farleigh Dickinson will crash with cases of Milwaukee's Best... Ice. 

You don't want this. You can't handle this. 

We can only get through this by staying together. As much as it pain you, pull for the Colts on Sunday. Save the J-E-T... (argh)... chants for another day.  

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The dark clouds descended upon Foxboro at approximately 1:12pm eastern time on Sunday. Wes Welker's injury deflated Patriot Nation almost immediately.

We know what his absence means to the offense. No blitz communications with Tom Brady. No underneath routes to keep linebackers honest. No dependable set of hands to lean forward for eight on 3rd and 7.

But could it have been avoided? When Bill Belichick openly ripped the turf in Houston it could be seen as an act of defense for a fallen player.

However, if Belichick realized the turf was so terrible before the game as he mentioned, why put any of your players at risk?

(Especially the team's Most Valuable Security Blanket?)

"The turf down there is terrible. It’s terrible. It’s just inconsistent. It’s all the little trays of grass and some of them are soft and some of them are firm and they don’t all fit well together, those seams … some of it feels like a sponge, some of it feels real firm and hard like the Miami surface. One step you’re on one, the other step you’re on another. I really think it’s one of the worst fields I’ve seen."

Did Belichick realize it was dangerous before the game started?  

"Yeah, absolutely. I said I walked out there and I thought it was terrible."

The Patriots have a way of A) winning their first-round playoff games B) winning their home playoff games C) bouncing back well after losses. 

The Pats will be favored on Sunday and have every chance of advancing past the Ravens and out to San Diego. Football is a cold, heartless game. Once upon a time, Ki-Jana Carter blew out his ACL on artificial turf on his third professional carry and was never the same. Injuries happen. 

But if the head coach knew before the game even started that his players were in danger, why would any of them play on a Sunday that didn't matter? 

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Last week, Patriots fans and the sports world finally got an answer to the most dogged question of the 2009 season. 
No, not whether Randy Moss has been mentally cashing it in the past month. 

But the name of Tom and Gisele's baby boy: Benjamin. 

Tom showed up for 8a meetings on the day of New England's first snow storm, after spending the night watching Gis give birth. 

Presumably, she was thrilled when he dashed out of the hospital to break down film of the Panthers Cover-2 before naming young Brady. 

Thus, last week America's National Nightmare came to a close with Lil' Bennie being stamped on his birth certificate. 

And while we have a few years before he becomes the MVP of Super Bowl 70 or the world's greatest H&M model, it is important to remember just how lucky this kid is. 

I mean, Benjamin Brady is the winner of this century's gene pool lottery. 

So, you're dad is one of the greatest quarterbacks of his generation and your mom is the world's most glamorous super model? 

I'm pretty sure your first car, college tuition, 50-yard-line seats to the Super Bowl (which your dad might be playing in), gas money, and the private jet you've always wanted for prom will be covered. 

You will also have 0.000008% chance of not turning out gorgeous and named People's "Sexiest Man of the Year 2034." 

So forget worrying about drafting Tom's replacement sometime in the foreseeable future. The Patriots have their man 20 years from now. 

Start printing the #12 "B. Brady" jerseys.

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The Pats threw on 3rd and 6, late in the 4th up 31-14 on Sunday. 
In fact, it was a deep ball lofted toward Randy Moss, ultimately covered well by Darrelle Revis (as he was all afternoon). Fell incomplete. 

When asked about the play the day after, Rex Ryan suggested it was "disrespect" by the Patriots - although couched his comments by saying it may not have been a Belichick decision, maybe just something Brady and Moss drew up in the dirt. 

Revis has chatted all week about shutting down Moss in their first meeting of the season (which was true) and that the WR had not given him enough respect after the game (which is also true - Moss said they rolled safety help over on every play. Not quite). 

So, it's distinctly possible Brady and Moss wanted one last shot to rub some New England salt in the wounds of the free-falling Jets, who need a tourniquet more than a cover corner these days. 

But for Ryan (or any Jet for that matter) to complain about disrespect or sportsmanship is like the Iron Sheik blathering about Hulk Hogan's histrionics. 

It was the Jets who crowed to anyone with a microphone or steno pad before the season that it was New York who was the bully of the AFC East. 

They beat their chest and believed they would "embarrass" the Pats in Week Two, Rex had not taken the job to "kiss Bill Belichick's rings," a voice mail to the Meadowlands crowd to make live miserable on opposing quarterbacks and then taking the podium as if they had won the Super Bowl after driving to a 3-0 start. 

Of course, after losing six of their last seven and an emotional breakdown by Ryan, now it's time to start complaining about the lack of respect by opposing teams. 

Sometimes what goes around comes around, boys.

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On Sunday, in Denver, the ever-intriguing native "taunt" rose from its annual nest of autumn hibernation. 
Pats Safety Brandon Meriweather was flagged 15-yards for what officials deemed a taunt of the Broncos. 

How to describe Meriweather's "taunt?" Well, he ran. Then he dove. Then he hit the receiver. And then... well... uh, he pumped his fist. 

Yep, that was about it. 

The whole running, diving and hitting part was apparently clean. It was the raising of the first which docked the team those 15-yards. 

Now, let's be clear: the Broncos didn't win the game because of the call. Denver has been moving  the football smoothly on that drive already. With or without the 15-yarder, likely would have punched it in anyway (and they did a few plays later with Brandon Marshall's second scoring grab). 

Plus, the Pats were the beneficiaries of borderline penalties last week when two spotty roughing-the-passer calls helped lead to 14 points in a win over Baltimore. 

But players jaw and scream and pump their fists for three hours every Sunday. 

They signal first-downs, celebrate in the end zone, jump up and down after sacks. 

Broncos safety Brian Dawkins stomped around the field after making tackles all afternoon, gyrating and gesturing. Penalties? Nah. That's just great leadership!

After the win, coach Josh McDaniels circled Mile High, pumping his fists and overall summoning the ghost of the Ultimate Warrior. 
Fine? Nope. Flag? Game was over. That's just the infectious enthusiasm of a young coach!

So you tell me how pumping your fist after an incomplete pass is worth 15-yards and I'll show you the impossible grey-areas of the NFL rule book.  

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* * * 

Does the final two weeks of the baseball season indicate anything about October success? Probably not.

In most cases, there's no real connection between how you finish the season and whether you host the... um... the... Fay Vincent Trophy?

Anyway, the Red Sox recent six-game skid, losers of 8 of their last 10 (including getting shelled by the sad sack Blue Jays) are not exactly developing much confidence that they're playing their best baseball right now. 

The '07 Rockies had to basically win every game in September just to make the playoffs. They did... and they did. And the momentum of that tear carried the Rox into the World Series. 

Just a year earlier, the '06 Cardinals, however, staggered to the finish line. Winners of just 83 games, St. Louis seemingly got better as the playoffs unfloded and ended up winning the World Series. 

Should Red Sox Nation be concerned about the way these last two weeks have gone? Yes. Kinda. 

Look, imagine I had just come off a grueling six months of doing this radio show every night and next Thursday, the corporate suits were in town to sit in the studio and make a decision whether to fire me.

Next Thursday (the date of Game One of the ALDS) would have to be my best show. The pressure would be on. I wanna keep this job (I have leases on four Bentleys and a slew of Baby Mamas across the country).

I'd like to take my foot off the gas, take a breather over the next week so that I was refreshed to do my best work when the suits were in town.

And I'd be confident that even with a few bad shows sprinkled over the last ten days, I could churn out a solid show when I had to.

But if I had six TERRIBLE shows in a row... or had eight crap nights in the last week and a half where I forgot stats, calls were awful and I tried to make the argument that KG should have a gender operation to become the greatest WNBA player who ever lived... that would be a concern.

No, the final two weeks aren't a clear indicator on how the postseason will go. But do you wanna have six atrocious nights in a row just a week before you start the biggest week of your year?

I don't. I have leases to pay off.