Nobody in sports telecasting is quite as dispensible as the breathlessly inane Jeanne Zelasko. There are others we despise because of their verbosity or overexposure or the sound of their voice. Like Vitale. Or McCarver. Or that fric and frac and toupee trio they trot out for NBA games. But none matches Zelasko for universally worthless inanity.

But I had to smile when at halftime of the Cotton Bowl the real JZ went hyperbolic while introducing the Kilgore Rangerettes. “Has it really been 49 years?” she gushed. “I had to check my notes to make sure.”

And, speaking of those Kilgore Rangerettes, the historians amongst ya will recognize that Gussie Nell Davis’s creation was the beginning of another great American tradition, without which this would be a desolate wasteland: Dance Teams. Yes those cowgal hatted flagwavers in the Forties were the genesis of that bootylicious phenomenon that we appreciate so much as a significant component of what we like to call big time sports.

– Seedy K