America At Large: As the replay flashed across the nation's television screens, ESPN broadcaster Mike Tirico said "We'll see exactly what Brayton did now," at which point all three voices in the booth could be heard to groan in unison.

Tony Kornheiser, the Washington Post columnist added to this year's Monday Night Football telecasts largely because he is an acknowledged master of the one-line quip, was rendered utterly speechless.

Joe Theisman, who once had his leg snapped in two by Giants' linebacker Lawrence Taylor on live television in what had previously loomed MNF's most gruesome moment, couldn't bring himself to say a word.

"From a manhood standpoint," Tirico finally added, "that was lame."

Somewhere, Zinedine Zidane must be smiling.

Although this week's spirited playground scrap featuring Seattle's Jerramy Stevens and Oakland's Tyler Brayton took place on autumnal television's most prominent stage - Monday Night Football - the fact that what the Seattle Post-Intelligencer has already christened "Groingate" occurred late at night, and in the waning minutes of a 16-0 yawner between the Seahawks and the moribund Raiders, meant that most Americans missed viewing it live, but thanks to the magic of videotape that oversight has been corrected over the past few days.

And today, or tomorrow, when NFL commissioner Roger Goodell starts meting out the fines, you may correctly assume that it will be aired a few dozen more times.

"Kick? Balls?" You ask. Isn't that what one is supposed to do in football? Brayton is a 6ft 6ins, 280-lbs defensive lineman out of Colorado, Stevens a 6ft 7ins, 265-lbs tight end who played his college ball at Washington. If you were handicapping this one, your inclination would be to call it a fair fight.

That the Raiders were on their way to another frustrating loss in a frustrating season was undoubtedly even more frustrating for Brayton. In their efforts to preserve their lead while running out the clock, the Seahawks seemed to be sending an inordinate number of plays in his direction.

"He was getting upset," said Stevens of Brayton. "We were running the ball right at him every play and he couldn't make the play."

Whether Stevens, assigned to block Brayton on the play in question, deliberately instigated the exchange by attempting to kick Brayton in the nuts remains open to interpretation, depending on one's allegiance.

That Brayton responded with a knee aimed at Stevens' privates, on the other hand, is indisputable. And, as Zidane can attest, while the provocation may go unnoticed by game officials, the retaliation probably won't.

After he nutted Italy's Marco Materazzi in July's World Cup final, Zidane was widely described as a "Butthead". Brayton has already earned himself a new sobriquet: "Knee Jerk".

The upshot of the episode was Brayton was ejected from the game, while Stevens was not, although the expectation is both players could be fined once the league office completes its review of the unseemly scrum.

In a tangle of bodies accompanying a Seahawks' running play, Oakland coach Art Shell claimed, diplomatically, "Tyler was reacting to someone trying to kick him in the groin area." Game films indeed showed Stevens' leg, in a tangle of bodies, lashing out in the general direction of Brayton's, uh, groin area, after which the Oakland player grabbed him by the shoulder pads and cut loose with a knee plainly aimed at Stevens' most delicate spot.

Brayton was flagged for unsportsmanlike conduct, summarily ejected from the contest, and faces a suspension as well.

(Considering that Tennesse's Albert Haynesworth got five games for stomping on an opponent's head earlier this season, it will be interesting to see, by comparison, what premium the league places on family jewels.)

A somewhat contrite Brayton termed his attack "a mistake", but his Raiders team-mates rallied to his defence. Defensive tackle Warren Sapp offered to chip in from his own paycheck to pay whatever fine the NFL takes out of Brayton's.

And Oakland free safety Stuart Schweigert termed Stevens "a dirty, dirty player".

Seattle coach Mike Holmgren maintained Stevens' wayward leg was an unintentional result of "two players struggling for leverage", and disputed Shell's version of events.

"If you look at the film, I think it's pretty clear that's not what happened," said Holmgren. "It was kind of a normal thing that happened. It wasn't anything close to resembling what actually occurred afterwards."

Stevens, maintained Sapp, "is a punk. He always was a punk. He'll always be a punk. He reminds me of a kid who gets his hand caught in the cookie jar. He's a sissy."