I'm taking some snaps at quarterback in the preseason scrimmage for the Chicago Force women's professional football team on Sunday, and I'm starting to freak out.

What began as a gonzo journalism lark,
and what then evolved into what the coach called my personal "fantasy camp," has taken on proportions of importance that have
taken me a little aback.

Over the weekend, I spent the last half hour gaping blankly at the 3-D Monsters vs. Aliens but asking and re-asking the uncertain question: Is Lion Zone Cutback a red or a black call? Yesterday I spent a wholly inappropriate portion of a funeral mass trying to conjure up a way to make better throws on the 30 Under play. And yesterday I lay awake with with a dry mouth, going over and over my read keys on the X-80 Choice.

I don't know how well I'm going to play in my personal Super Bowl, but I do know this: No matter how long our childhood dreams have been dormant, I've learned from my temporary teammates and from my own pounding heart that they retain breathtaking power.

Wish me and my inner child luck on Sunday.

A cat named Andrew Goodman actually led a blog item this way:

What efficient communication!

First, you tell every asshole on Twitter what you're hearing as you hear it.

Then, you think about what you've heard.

Then, you tell everybody how you and @LisaBarone (and don't forget @dannysullivan) experienced the original session.

And only then do you get around to giving us your considered opinion, which, by this point, I'd rather die than digest.

@andrewgoodman: Get your @ss to a store and buy a notebook.

@lisabarone: Let me guess: You came around to @andrewgoodman's original point of view after all.

So I've been writing endless copy for months to promote the E2E Communication Awards, of which I am program chairman and which you should enter immediately if you value any one of the following: the future of the American workforce, the discipline of employee communication or your job.

For online flyers, web site copy, e-blasts, and several other promotional vehicles, I thought I had used every marketing phrase I could think* of to describe the uniqueness of the awards program, the urgency of entering (deadline, May 22!), the eminence of its judges and the ease of entering the program.

Then it came time to promote the program today, via Facebook and Twitter, and those media's demands for brevity and wit and bite and edge led the following slogan to pop into my head:

"For employee communicators only … but so easy to enter, a PR person could do it!"

* Short of my favorite bit of copy, a local radio spot that describes its offer as "The biggest no-brainer in the history of the universe!"