It began innocently enough...

Note: OnMilwaukee.com's Doug Russell is in Indianapolis this week, covering Super Bowl XLVI. Today will mark the fifth Super Bowl Media Day event that Doug has covered.

INDIANAPOLIS -- In the beginning it wasn't even called "Media Day" but then again, it wasn't called the "Super Bowl" at first, either.

What began as a "picture day" way back in 1972 a few days before Super Bowl VI in New Orleans as a way for newspapers to get a snapshot and a few quotes before the NFL's championship has evolved into simultaneously the most celebrated and most loathed event of this week.

Today, at Lucas Oil Stadium, just blocks from the media headquarters at the brand-new J.W. Marriot Hotel, a palace that looks more like it belongs in Las Vegas than Indiana, separately the New York Giants and New England Patriots will be peppered with the most absurdly ridiculous queries imaginable.

And the NFL wouldn't have it any other way.

Over the years, Media Day has evolved from a small gathering of newspaper photographers and beat writers into the single biggest week-of-game spectacle, celebrated by non-traditional outlets that otherwise would never otherwise get access to players and coaches, and reviled by those same beat writers just looking to write a football story.

And while it is hard to pinpoint exactly when the circus came to town, even legitimate reporters have been guilty of using less than professional decorum, even many years ago.

Super Bowl XV in New Orleans pitted the Oakland Raiders against the Philadelphia Eagles. During his media session, Oakland quarterback Jim Plunkett diverted from the usual X's and O's of the matchup to pay homage to his parents, both of whom were blind, for raising him to be a Super Bowl player under difficult circumstances.

Several questions regarding the game itself came and went before an intrepid columnist from Philadelphia enterprising on the human interest story of a Heisman Trophy winning quarterback and now Super Bowl combatant being raised in a special needs household blurted out loudly and from the back of the media scrum, "Jimmy, Jimmy, I want to make sure I have this right. Was it dead mother, blind father or blind mother, dead father?"

And they say we in the media aren't respectful.

One year after that memorable exchange, born out of convenience, the media was shipped to the teams at the stadium when the game was played for the first time in a cold weather city, at the Pontiac (Mich.) Silverdome. After all, both teams were practicing at the Silverdome, so why not just make it convenient for everyone, right?

As it turned out, that was the blueprint for what has become standard, although that did not become an annual practice until rain in New Orleans forced the media contingent covering Super Bowl XX inside the Superdome to speak to members of the Patriots and Bears.

Unknowingly, a tradition was made, with the exception of Super Bowl XXVII where because of a stadium conflict, Media Day was held at Dodger Stadium instead of the game venue, the Rose Bowl Stadium, a few miles away.

This would be but a footnote but for yet another idiotic question from my brethren in the fourth estate.

Reporter to Dallas quarterback Troy Aikman: "Troy, does it seem strange answering football questions in a baseball stadium?"

Aikman: (indignantly) "Not really."

Sigh.

When ESPN began covering Media Day in Arizona the Tuesday before Super Bowl XXX, other networks got the same idea and petitioned the NFL for credentials for subsequent years.

All of a sudden, at Super Bowl XXXI between the Packers and Patriots, there were reporters from MTV, Entertainment Tonight, Nickelodeon, and other outlets that never before would have thought to cover a sporting event.

The flood gates were now wide open, swallowing the scribes looking for a scoop among the midst of those wearing wedding dresses, bullfighter outfits, superhero tights, and animal costumes. In other words, there is no dress code – other than a microphone and a camera.

Of course, the NFL eats up the attention; after all, what is the harm in allowing questions such as the one posed to Rams quarterback Kurt Warner before Super Bowl XXXIV, "Do you believe in voodoo and can I have a lock of your hair?"

Occasionally, there is some actual news to report among the chaos. And while Media Day was the venue for Dallas' Thomas "Hollywood" Henderson questioning the intelligence of then-Steelers quarterback Terry Bradshaw when he opined, "He couldn't spell 'cat' if you spotted him the C and the A," trash talk took on a whole new level in 1999.

Super Bowl XXXIII in Miami pitted the Denver Broncos against the Atlanta Falcons. As is the case every year, one team meets with reporters first, then there is a break for lunch, then the other team has its session. This particular year, the Falcons were designated to be the team that had the morning period, with the Broncos to follow in the afternoon.

When Atlanta defensive back Ray Buchanan emerged from the tunnel wearing a spiked dog collar, you got the feeling that he might have a pearl of wisdom or two to expound upon. As it turns out, the subject of his derision was Denver tight end Shannon Sharpe.

"That's an ugly dude," Buchanan told the press. "You can't tell me he doesn't look like Mr. Ed."

Sharpe, when apprised of Buchanan's comments that morning, fired right back.

"Tell Ray to put the eyeliner, the lipstick and the high heels away," Sharpe said without missing a beat. "I'm not saying he's a cross-dresser, that's just what I heard. I've never called anybody ugly. Do I think people are ugly? Yeah, I think he is ugly, but I never said that."

Sharpe was just getting warmed up.

"Is he my friend? No," he continued without taking a breath. "Did I ever view him as a friend? No. Did I view him as an acquaintance? No. Do I like him? No. If I see him in a snow storm, his truck is broke down; mine is working; would I pick him up? No. Other than that, I could care less about Ray Buchanan."

So just exactly what gems will come out of today's sessions is unclear. Perhaps Tom Brady will be proposed to again. Maybe Eli Manning will be asked if "Giants" is a noun or a verb (which happened to a member of the St. Louis Rams in 2000). It is even possible that New England defensive tackle Shaun Ellis will be asked what sized panties he thinks he might wear (a question actually posed to Denver fullback Detron Smith in 1999).

Whatever the question, my only hope is the absence of urban legend. Why? Because the most infamous question ever posed at Super Bowl Media Day is nothing more than a fantasy twisted from a small shred of frustration.

The story goes that Washington Redskins quarterback Doug Williams, who happened to be the first African-American signal caller to ever start a Super Bowl, was asked, "How long have you been a black quarterback?"

That is the legend. Except the question was never asked – at least not like that. In the week leading up to Super Bowl XXII, the subject of Williams' race was one of the big storylines getting a lot of hype. The reporter in question, Butch John of the Jackson Jackson Clarion-Ledger, was getting tired of the same line of interrogation with no regard for the game itself. The question itself was: "Doug, it's obvious you've always been a black quarterback all your life. When did it start to matter?" John thought that would end the line of questioning. He was joking.

Nope. That's not history remembered it. After all, what sounds better?

The Williams example perfectly illustrates why so many of the football-only beat reporters don't care for today's event. Because it melds sports, fantasy, and entertainment in a way that automatically puts players in a different mindset than what their task at hand actually is five days later.

The problem for the beat guys is that today's event has gotten too big. After all, the NFL loves to show the personalities of its players to humanize them (and maybe sell another jersey or two) to the non-football fan public. In fact, today, for the first time ever, up to 5,000 fans that purchased tickets will be allowed in to Lucas Oil Stadium to view the event from the upper deck.

Then again, if they just had a camcorder and a Halloween costume, they could just come down on the field and join in the fun for free.