Online chats? You have some e-mail to answer first, Mr. Commish

Roger Goodell, man of the people that he is, recently participated in an online chat with fans (probably because he was sedated, bolted to a chair and told it would be good P.R.). No animals were harmed in its execution, so I guess it went well enough.

But now, he's just asking for it. As part of this new faux interest in what the fans have to say, called "Behind The Faceplate," he also wanted to know what fans thought. This, of course, is nuts, because the best way to find out you should have joined a cloistered monastery is to work in customer service. Especially during the busy season, when people are watching their favorite teams stink like roadkill on hot tar.

Dear Mr. Commissioner: Is the league now rescinding fines? (Getty Images)

Besides, having seen the chat, we know he didn't get to all the questions that fans wanted answers to, and until he does that, he shouldn't even think about engaging their unfiltered opinions. Even bomb disposal experts with the hiccups know that.

For instance, he should tackle these leftovers from his inbox before he starts asking for new ideas:

"Dear Commissioner: Is the league now rescinding fines (Justin Tuck, Randy Moss, etc.) because it has nowhere to put the money, or do you already have enough collected to buy the south of France?"

"Dear Commissioner: Does it bother you that President-Elect Obama says he is a White Sox fan and that if he could, he would introduce a college football playoff system, but not a word about the Bears or the NFL? Didn't your people vet him properly before letting him get the nomination?"

"Dear Commissioner: If you were on trial and the jury was made up of your game officials, would you simply give up, plead out and go right to sentencing or start shrieking like an enraged meth monkey during opening arguments and go for insanity?"

"Dear Commissioner: How would you rank the 32 owners in terms of how long you could talk to each of them before you became so creeped out and horrified by the possibility of ever speaking to each of them again that you just shrieked in terror and begged for the sweet release of death?"

"Dear Commissioner: If it were legal to do so, would you set fire to Drew Rosenhaus just to see how many colors you could identify in the blaze?"

"Dear Commissioner: My kid needs braces because her overbite's so bad she can eat her own chin, so would you lay the 12 1/2 and take the mmmggllppfflllkkkk. .. (error in transmission)"

"Dear Commissioner: On the celebration rule -– is it wise, tactically speaking, to leave the judgments on cool to middle-aged and elderly white guys whose idea of fun is whipping up gin-infused smores and watching the Military Channel's all-day special on the Battle of Agincourt?"

"Dear Commissioner: Adam Jones. .. ahh, just goofin' on ya. Wanted to see the look on your face when you hear the name."

"Dear Commissioner: How much alcohol would you have to consume to consider coming out to California to get a look at how your company is being represented in the nation's most populous state? Is there enough alcohol on the planet to get you to do so? Would you require haz-mat clothing? Pez dispensers filled with Percocet? A GPS tracker bolted to Clark Judge's chest? Anything at all?"