NFL TELETHON NOTE OF THE WEEK

When the league held its fundraising telethon for Hurricane Katrina victims last Monday, one of the operators taking phone calls was former Raiders lineman and coach Art Shell. At one point during the evening, the phone at his station rang. He picked it up.

"NFL Hurricane Relief, this is Art Shell,'' he answered.

"Raiders SUCK!'' said a guy, who promptly hung up.

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"I've been saying that our goal is to get a team back to L.A., either through expansion or whatever, and we're not going to be moving any teams into small markets. We're going to be moving up in market size, not either down or flat.''

-- NFL Commissioner Paul Tagliabue to Peter Finney of the New Orleans Times-Picayune.

Translation: We'll be challenging any effort by Saints owner Tom Benson to move the Saints to San Antonio. Hartford/New Haven, Raleigh/Durham, and Greenville/Spartanburg are all bigger markets; San Antonio is 16,000 TV households bigger than Grand Rapids/Kalamazoo/Battle Creek, the No. 38 market.

FACTOID THAT MAY INTEREST ONLY ME

Everything about Chicago quarterback Kyle Orton, the rookie out of Purdue, seems quite well-planned. He says the right thing all the time. He might even want to get into politics someday. Everything's right, that is, except for the little think permanently emblazoned on his left shoulder blade. A two-inch-high Boilermaker. A faded-but-still-very-noticeable tattoo of the Purdue mascot.

"Bad night,'' he said when I noticed it.

"One really bad night in West Lafayette?'' I asked.

"No. Before that. Just a bad night.''

Orton is embarrassed about it, and I immediately think: I'm so glad I was a really reactionary parent when my daughters, at various points in the past few years, have broached the subject of getting a tattoo. Orton regrets it, the way I know my kids would if they'd done something at 17 on a similarly bad night.

I'm not a big tattoo fan, if you couldn't tell.

Orton, by the way, says he's seen every Seinfeld episode 10 to 15 times, and now his favorite show is Curb Your Enthusiasm. I knew there was a reason why I think he's going to be a pretty good player.

AGGRAVATING/ENJOYABLE TRAVEL NOTE OF THE WEEK

Late Thursday afternoon, San Jose International Airport, Terminal A, walking to my gate.

I look over at the waiting area at a crowded Southwest gate and I am surprised. I see a very familiar face, eating a burger and onion rings from Burger King. He's sitting with a woman and reading; next to him is a man in his 20s also reading.

"Dennis Erickson!'' I say.

"Hey, Peter,'' he says, wiping his hand on a napkin, then extending it.

He is on his way to see his son, an assistant coach at New Mexico Highlands, coach a game this weekend. His wife and other son are with him for the trip. They'll fly to Albuquerque, rent a car, drive two hours and roll into Las Vegas, N.M. (what a name for a town that's not the real Vegas) about midnight. He looks good. Tanned, rested. And in need of a job.

"My wife is so sick of me right now,'' he says, and she looks up from her book and nods. "She says I'm too young to be sitting around the house all day. She's right.''

He says he'd like to get back into the coaching carousel next year, probably in college. "I haven't had very good situations in the NFL,'' he says. "I've had a better chance in college. That's probably where I'll end up.''

We say good-bye and good luck, and I go get a bottle of water and check my e-mail. On my way back to my gate, I pass Erickson again. Wife and son are still reading. He's craning his neck to see the TV in the restaurant. "Air Force game,'' he says.

Erickson's still got the bug. Pac-10, here he comes.

STAT OF THE WEEK

Washington's first 126 offensive plays this season: zero touchdowns.

Washington's next three offensive plays: two touchdowns.