The Debriefing is a column that runs every weekday at 9:00 a.m. here on FanHouse. It goes deep into one issue and then bounces around to a plethora of smaller ones ... and does it all in a way that will make you feel like the prettiest girl at the cotillion. Bookmark this page, and visit daily. 
As I stood in line amongst roughly one hundred people to pick up a copy of Madden at midnight last night, I thought to myself, "I'm getting too old to be doing this ... at least, with any of my dignity intact."
The midnight-buyers seemed to be separated into two groups:
Group #1: Guys who are 10 years younger than me, and will play the game with their buddies for the next 12 hours, altered by various substances, having a blast, giggling the whole time, until one game gets too serious at about 9 a.m. and two guys end up brawling over a pass interference non-call, and someone ends up in the emergency room after their head goes crashing through the living room table. I am no longer this cool.
Group #2: Guys who are a little older, and have either snuck out of the house while their wives were sleeping, or they actually have the kids with them, asleep in the car while daddy goes in to pick up Madden (yes, this happened). They will likely be calling in sick tomorrow or at least thinking to themselves, "I'd totally call in sick tomorrow if I had a job."
(Also at the bottom: The full review of Madden ... a campaign to see more of John Daly's skin ... your weekly dead wrestler story ... and Shawne Merriman mercifully retires his sack "dance" ... )