The Adam Carolla Show runs a great bit called “Are you Smarter than a Raiders Fan?” in which callers can win cash and prizes for outwitting a denizen of the Black Hole. Most recently, a skull-and-spousal abuse clad man was asked how many minutes are in a quarter of an hour? He answered “thirty.”

So onward with the first half-hour!

MVP: Drew Brees. Colston’s out, the defense stinks, and Reggie Bush fumbles like he decided not to use a cart at Ikea. But the Saints can still score a million points because of the honorary Latin King.

LVP: Vince Young. It’s never a particularly good sign when your injury improves the team in leaps and bounds. I hope VY likes Detroit, because that’s the next place he’ll be playing.

Defensive Player of the Year: Justin Tuck. The reason the Pats lost the Super Bowl is the same reason quarterbacks have absolutely zero seconds to throw the ball against the G-Men. He’s 274, but plays like he’s 330. And the guys strong enough to deal with him aren’t fast enough. Second coming of Reggie White.

The Donnie Brady Award: DeAngelo Hall. The worst defensive player in the league gets additional points for a huge paycheck and tons of talent. When he’s not getting scorched for TDs, he’s throwing 15 yards on with some bush-league shenanigans.

Offensive Rookie of the Year: Matt Forte. The Bears couldn’t win a single game without him. A sound running game takes the pressure off Kyle Orton (it shows) and gives the defense time to rest (also shows). They just need to keep him away from Lake Travis.

The Ryan Leaf Award: Brian Brohm. It’s not completely fair to call a second rounder a bust, and with the Lions playing horribly, it would be easy to pick Gosder Cherilus. But the Brohm pick was praised when he “slipped” to the Pack. That said, mid-second rounders are often Pro Bowlers, and the Packers are going with Matt Flynn if Aaron Rodgers doesn’t work. So their second rounder went to a career backup backup, their very own Spergeon Wynn.

Defensive Rookie of the Year: Chris Horton. He’s shored up a Redskins secondary with a big hole left in it from the Sean Taylor murder. These awards are also often stat-driven, and Horton has three picks already and is making opposing quarterbacks pay for just chucking it up. In a division with Tony Romo, Eli Manning, and Donovan McNabb, you need one of those.

The Courtney Brown Award: With apologies to The Ball Coach and the many Jets fans I lived with in college, the sixth pick in the draft is supposed to be better than this. Maybe he’ll come online like Mario Williams did, but after four games, three solo tackles and zero sacks aren’t the Merriman Numbers everyone wanted.

Coach of the Year: Jeff Fisher. I can’t pick Dick Jauron because, in the words of Bill Simmons, he looks like a Scooby Doo villain. I can’t pick John Harbaugh because he only has two wins. Meanwhile, Fisher has his team of nobodies and retreads hitting their way through the tough AFC South. Not bad for a guy who nearly gets fired every season.

The Art Shell Award: Romeo Crennel. Kiffin and Linehan are no longer coaches, so that leaves Crennel. He’s the worst evidence of the Patriots’ sideline spying because it was basically the only way he got the Browns job. GM Phil Savage gave Crennel all the pieces he needed to at the very least maintain the status quo. After all that money, the Browns are one of the five worst teams in football. Nice job, Romeo.

Comeback Player of the Year: Jevon Kearse. I think ‘The Freak’ might be an idiot. For one thing, most defensive ends are morons. Jim Johnson’s blitzing D in Philly requires everyone, even DEs, to do a lot of different things, including think. Back in Tennessee, Kearse is a part of the best front four in football.

Breakout McGee: Haloti Ngata. Barely edging Senator Trent Edwards is the newest defensive star in Baltimore. Ray Lewis looks like he’s 25, Bart Scott is everywhere, and Terrell Suggs is getting clean hits on the quarterback virtually every play. It’s all because of Ngata, who’s been getting triple teamed even with all the other guys around him. Once linemate Kelly Gregg gets back, Ngata is going to start looking like pre-Raiders Warren Sapp.

Regress McGee: Ryan Grant. No one killed more fantasy teams than Grant, who went from ‘Next Barry Sanders’ to ‘Next Larry Sanders.’ Wow, that’s just good writing. Someone dial me up a Peabody.

Most Surprising (finding a twenty on the ground): Joe Flacco. First of all, the Ravens were supposed to be a disaster this year. Second, Flacco didn’t beat out Kyle Boller or Troy Smith in training camp. Now, he looks like the Johnny U replacement Charm City has been waiting for (and waiting and waiting and waiting). This author already has a t-shirt. If he wins ten games (which is possible), there will be a jersey.

Most Surprising (where the f**k is my twenty?!?): Cincinnati Offense. People expected the Bengals to be…less than good. But it was a matter of the defense screwing over the offense. With Carson Palmer, the Bengals scored 13 points a game. They can’t run the ball or catch it. Not usually what you’re looking for from a high-powered offense.

Best TV Analyst: Brian Billick. This is the real reason he’ll never get another head coaching job; he’s too good on TV. Billick loves to talk, and knows an awful lot about the x’s and o’s of football. This comes as a shock to anyone who followed the Ravens during his tenure.

Worst TV Analyst: Tony Kornheiser. Apologies to everyone who loves the columnist and PTI personality. He’s very good on both. He’s death on Monday Night. His trademark has become declaring the game over eleven times over its course. “The Ravens are looking at 3-0!” he says in the second quarter. “The Cowboys have no answer for Brian Westbrook!” in the third quarter. If this was baseball, he’d bring up a No Hitter after an inning and a half. He reminds me of the old HTS team that would do Caps games, in which they’d exclaim (7 minutes left in the first, 1-0 Caps), “Peter Bondra is the MVP in the Capitals’ victory so far!” Sorry, Tony. Stick to PTI.

The Everclear Award: The Most Evenly Mediocre Band in history is the namesake for picking the team that is neither great nor horrible, neither decent nor flawed. In the dying era of parity, only one team can represent Pete Rozelle’s dream. Anyone can pick the team headed for the Super Bowl or the top pick in the draft, but we’re going to pick who will be 8-8. The leader in the clubhouse? The San Francisco 49ers. No longer a doormat, but not anywhere near a playoff run, the Niners will win every game they’re supposed to and lose every one they’re not. 8-8 would be a success in the Bay, especially with the rotting corpse on the other side.