"Ladies and gentlemen, I'm sorry to inform you, the Lincoln Kennedy Show has been cancelled. He has been kidnapped and held hostage by some family until he can come up with more Super Bowl tickets. Any corporations willing to help, please let him know. Thank you."

	Raiders guard Frank Middleton was one of the stars of Media Day.

Ahh, Super Bowl Media Day. A time to say anything. And do anything. A time to act like the endless questions mean the world. Or act like they don't mean anything at all.

It's a time for certain reporters, annoyed with the endless drone of the same, to buck the trend and go outrageous. It's a time for "The Tonight Show" to send a small army to San Diego to coax athletes into being perverted. And it's time for pop starlet Mandy Moore to bounce around in a way-too-tight Kurt Warner jersey and ask questions that have nothing to do with football.

"This is crazy," Tampa Bay's Warren Sapp said. "They talk about the thousands of credentials from around the world and the people who will be here, and I'm in awe. I've been in college national championship games, back-to-back championships, but that's nothing like the Super Bowl. I'm a witness now."

What's the purpose? Perhaps Sapp, too, said it best, describing Media Day as a chance to "show just what you can do off the field." The Bucs did that Tuesday, delivering above and beyond lofty expectations in their 60-minute sound bite session.

There was defensive end Simeon Rice, on whether he ever saw himself reaching the Super Bowl: "I had dreams about this with the Cardinals, but it was more virtual reality. In Tampa it's the real thing."

Head coach Jon Gruden, on kicker Martin Gramatica: "I call him Barry Bonds. Because if you get the ball down, he's going to hit a three-run homer every time."

And linebacker Derrick Brooks on the low point of his career: "It was 1996 and we were being made fun of by a pregame show. They called us the 'Yuckaneers.' We were a laughingstock, and we took it personal."

The Raiders, believe it or not, were just as entertaining. The team perceived by the outside world as reckless, wild partiers and perceived by the media as boring, dull veterans, also delivered. Maybe not the stars, like MVP quarterback Rich Gannon and wide receivers Tim Brown and Jerry Rice, but the complementary players had plenty of eyebrow-raising moments.

Some of the 3,092 media members credentialed for Tuesday didn't care, leaving Qualcomm Stadium after Tampa Bay's interview session to head back downtown. The league compensated for the departures, rearranging steel bleachers in front of the interview podiums to minimize the open space.

Those who stayed, though, were glad they did.

There was Oakland guard Frank Middleton, about his head-to-head battle with Warren Sapp, with whom he was a teammate for five years: "It's like getting two fat boys in the ring and whoever wins gets to eat. The loser has to get shot in the head. I am not ready to get shot in the head."

	“	It's like getting two fat boys in the ring and whoever wins gets to eat. The loser has to get shot in the head. I am not ready to get shot in the head. ”
		— Frank Middleton, Raiders guard on his matchup with Warren Sapp

And fourth-year linebacker Eric Barton, who changed roles, going from interviewee to interviewer. Barton asked Lincoln Kennedy, "Lincoln, is it true that you're going to give your new Cadillac to Eric Barton if the Raiders win the Super Bowl?" Answered Kennedy: "Ummmmm … no. But I'll give him a ride."

Then there was Bill Romanowski, who tossed this simple nugget when asked about the maniacal ways of the Raider Nation. "Honestly, we have the kind of fans that if they were ever allowed on the field, they'd probably dismember people."

For as colorful as everyone may have been, there were no bold predictions or fierce trash-talking. Nobody wore a dog collar. And nobody grabbed the media by the collar and force fed reasons as to why their team was going to win.

The closest thing to trash-talking? Warren Sapp's taunting of Pittsburgh's Lee Flowers, who has called the Buccaneers "paper champions."

"Lee Flowers?" Sapp said, leaning across his podium, inching closer to the camera and waving in a snide tone. "How ya doing Lee? How are things at home? He-he-he."

Best trash next to that? Rice, in response to a question about Sapp's battle with Middleton.

"Frank wanted Warren and now he's got him. Where's Warren at? Where's Warren at," Rice said, standing atop his podium and looking up and down the aisle of interviews. "He's here, right? He made the trip to San Diego, didn't he? Good. Frank's looking for him. And he's got him."

One national sports channel planted a Don King look-a-like to prance around, annoy the athletes and interrupt interviews with his boisterous, mouthy ways. Some of the day's best entertainment came from the players and coaches who refused to play along.

"You know what?" Sapp said to the wig-covered man. "That's why you're not the best damn sports show period."

Gruden was even less amused, drawing on his much-publicized facial stares to stop the act.

"I'm about to show you some intensity here in a second," Gruden said. "Knock it off."

He did. And the show went on. But not without crowds. Without smiles. And without snores. It was, after all, Media Day.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com