With Erin Andrews frolicking around backstage, who could blame eventual grand champion of the spelling world Sameer Mishra to let loose a little Freudian slip? How else is he supposed to sublimate that sexual energy? Rub your finger on your hand any harder and it's playing with yourself.

The actual word here, numnah, is a pad placed under a saddle, so used to prevent the occurrence of numbnuts. The ironies, I feels it!

Tomorrow the Scripps National Spelling Bee will give another group of spindly kids with Akeelah-like aspirations an opportunity to make use of their freakish memorization skills. This year, the kids are more aware of the ramifications and long-term career potential that comes with the national stage. Spell the words right, become a shooting star; fail and go back to the life of being an extraordinarily bright child with lots of tuba-playing friends. (Or, if they’re a home-schooled, back to being a socially-stunted shut-in whose only friends are the mailman and a rotting salamander carcass in a mason jar.)

Many of these kids are so absorbed and determined at developing their abnormally high IQs, they usually fall short on having a TV-ready appearance. But the more popular this event becomes, it’ll be even more crucial for producers to make sure their featured participants aren’t wearing their khakis on backwards or their glasses don’t cause potentially deadly refractions of the stage lighting. It’s the harsh reality of network ratings economics: If the final round is going to continue to garner a primetime slot, The Bee needs to get prettier in order to ensure long-term success.

And this year, spellers have added motivation to look less mousey, now that ESPN’s all-purpose reporting princess, Erin Andrews, is sidelining the Bee. Unlike the drooling moron nation that worships her from the safe confines of the internet, these poor girl-spooked geniuses will be forced to process Ms. Andrews’ striking beauty in person. One hair-flip and they’ll quickly learn that, no, she’s nothing like the girls in Latin club.

For male participants, this creates an even more daunting pressure-cooker atmosphere, as flubbing “quatorzain” in the first round will not only result in condescending snickers from their peers, but will also eliminate any chance of them professing their undying love to the tall, coconut-scented woman with the pretty teeth.

Among this year’s batch of 288 nerdsworths, there are a few who have the potential to make both their etymological and wet dreams come true.

So, today, I’m ignoring my throbbing odontalgia, taking antibiotics for my staphylococci and trying to avoid a vivisepulture as I place odds on some of the lads who have the best chance at vouchsafing the crap out of Erin Andrews this week.

Let’s go elucubrate after this jump. (Painting by the great Jim Cooke, of course.)

Pierce Dageforde: 2/1 His name sounds like it could be a pungent cheese from the Netherlands, but Pierce is representing both Omaha and Midwestern Iowa after mopping the floor with the contestants at the Midwest Spelling bee — and he plans on debunking any and all myths about spellers from corn country. He's coming to this event equipped with both a steel-trap mind and the charm and sophistication of a man twice his age. You can find him wearing his trademark turtleneck at many high society social events throughout the Midwest, smoking a pipe and wooing divorcees with his biting wit and collection of elegiac love poems. Dageforde says his ideal date with Andrews would be a trip to his grandfather's log cabin, nestled away in the woods of Eldora, where they'd spend a weekend taking in the majestic flora, making their own chocolate, and dancing the tarantella in their sweat socks across the creeky floors.

Scott Remer: 3/1 Ohio's Scotty "Reme Job" Remer realizes he might not make it out of the semifinals, but he's supremely confident he can get far enough to make a run at Erin Andrews. Remer's eschewed studying from his voluminous word list this week in favor of getting a manicure and experimenting with new pomeades. "Reme Job" said he's also purchased a new pair of snug chinos that better accentuate his overdeveloped quad muscles since he'd heard that Andrews "gets gooey" over a man with hulking soccer legs. His prediction for his chances this week: "If I get five minutes alone with her, she'll definitely get Remed."

Tony Incorvati: 5/1
Another Ohio boy, 10-year-old Incorvati slashed through the field at the Regional Grand Spelling Bee to earn a slot in D.C. Even though he's one of the youngest contestants this year, Incorvati carries a hefty amount of Italian swagger that overcompensates for some of his inexperience. "These fuckin' merigans ain't gonna know what hit 'em, " Incorvati told reporters during introduction ceremonies yesterday, opening and closing a Zippo lighter throughout. As for Andrews? Incorvati says she's a little too "twig-legged" for his tastes, but that's not going to prevent him from "givin' her a nice hard boning" if he makes the finals. "I'll chase her down in the parking lot if I have to," he said, while furiously making stroking gestures on a large pepperoni stick. "She's gonna get piece of this, if you know what I mean." We do, Tony. We do.

Xavier Barnes: EVEN

This skinny 13-year-old from Fayetteville, N.C. is new to the area, but he established himself early in the first marking period as a young man with a voracious appetite for big words — and the student teachers at Pine Forest Middle School. Since moving to Cumberland County last year from Kansas, Barnes has allegedly bedded some of the most unavailable women in the state. One of his male English teachers marvels at the budding lothario's technique. "It's, like, all he has to do is just stare up at them with those big brown eyes of his and the chicks will just melt." Barnes says a lot of his successes in both spelling and women comes from his abnormally large fingers, with which he can quickly sift through pages of unwieldy dictionaries quickly and digitally manipulate females to orgasm with just a wiggle. "I think if Miss Andrews gets one glance at these, her curiosity will get the best of her, " he says, moving his fingers in front of his face like Freddy Krueger. He's even given himself a nickname: "Bean Flickimus Maximus." Watch out, Erin.

The 80th Scripps National Spelling Bee contestants are currently locked in their rooms, furiously poring over gigantic dictionaries, compiling flash cards and memorizing prefixes and root words in preparation for the May 30 competition. This leaves no free time for these youngsters; instead of spending weekends reading Russian translation of Ulysses or conducting molecule splicing experiments with household cleaning products, they'll be spending late nights watching tapes of past Bees and spouting off the language of origin for "appoggiatura."

Of course, this event would be better served to be covered next week, just a few short days away from the competition. However, with it being Memorial Day weekend, combined with your already spotty afternoon attention spans, it was decided that a good portion of the Deadspin readership would probably be completely shit-hammered drunk by next Friday at 2:35. So, why bother? No, instead, next week's column will be an even less inspired assemblance of tenuous sports-related narrative, telegraphed dick jokes and deep-rooted racism presented under the thin veil of "satire." Working topics include "Who's the Next Black Dude to Get Shot?"; "Which Soccer Player Does David Hirshey Really Want to Blow?", "Which Commenters Have Ever Rubbed One Out During a Deadspin Up All Night Sesssion?" or "Ah...Fuck It?" And then I'll probably try to set the all-time record for random tags in one post. Get excited.

The Spelling Bee also has some personal meaning to me. Two years ago, during the 2005 competition, was my first week at the former Gawker gambling blog, Oddjack. The month before that, I'd somehow become overseer/editor without a rabid interest in sports gambling, a genuine dislike of professional poker and only about three weeks of training or basic blog publishing software. Hence, the first week consisted mainly of Spelling Bee posts with laughable PhotoShop accompaniment and pictures of dead animals. Why, oh why, did it ever fail?

So, this week, I'm waking up the ghost of Blop-o-Nartus, throwing an arm around a bespectacled little wunderkind, and placing odds on the winners of the 2007 Scripps Howard Spelling Bee.

Let's go beat up some smott kids, after this jump.

Samir Gupta: 3/1

Samir's known for his red sweatshirts, his dandruff and his superstitions about showering regularly during tournament time. A cocky fucker, it was reported that after Samir received his trophy at the El Paso Times Bee, he smiled and said there wasn't a single word at the regional competition that he couldn't spell. Yeah, bring that attitude to D.C., and Gupta might be carted out on a stretcher. Click. Clack.

Anqi Dong: 2/1

Anqi "Beer Can" Dong makes his third appearance to the Scripps showdown, bringing with him a rabid, Dong-loving fanbase all the way from Canada, giving him a slight advantage over the other contestants. Catch him during the offseason, and you'll find an affable, charming young man who worships Charles Babbage, shreds on his oboe and dreams of building a 21st Century Super Computer out of a toaster and digital watch. Once on stage, it's a different story; Dong transforms himself into a snot-shooting, spellbound minotaur, who intimidates other opponents with high leg kicks and gutteral yelps.

Cody Wang: 4/1

It's not a Spelling Bee without a Wang, and this year's Wang is named Cody. Another Canuck, Wang trounced through the Can West Can Spell Regional Tournament, by nailing "infructuous" after a four-and-a-half hour competition. He credited his victory to the support he gets from his family, his friends and, most important, his homemade robot, Zorflax, who's been his main support system and his only social contact in his 12 years of existence. Although the crowd is praying for a Wang/Dong final round, Wang's still a baby at the Scripps and his hyperhydrosis problem could prove costly if he makes it to the televised round.

Maheen Rana: 1/2

This California lexicon lassie is also a repeat champion and makes her third appearance at Scripps bring with her an impressive resume that includes leisure time activities like flute-playing, sewing and a love of geography. In fact, Rana's geographic prowess is so strong, she'll sometimes warm up by spouting off the GNP of Belarus or spelling the cities of Uzbekistan in order of population — backwards. But don't be fooled by her mousy demeanor and her giant eyebrows, for Rana's a fierce competitor who is rumored to wear war paint on her face using the blood of suckling pigs she sacrifices backstage.

Samir Patel: 1/3

The tiny brown titan, Patel makes his fourth appearance this year, after strong finishes each of the last three years and winning over the hearts of a national audience with his squeaky voice, magnetic smile and his diminutive, Owen Meany-esque stature. Patel was criticized a bit last year after getting bounced early and bawling like a little bitch on national television, but he's still beloved by everyone. This is probably his last year of competition and he'll be the sentimental favorite to win — and this year he might just do it. A victory will make him an international phenomenon and possibly a Hollywood superstar. Or Bollywood, rather.

I don't think you noticed that the person organizing the whole Simplified Spelling Society picket, Elizabeth Kuizenga, is Rebecca Romijn's *mother*. I heard Rebecca mention this during a Daily Show interview a while back, so it is for real.

And indeed, the mother of our favorite shape-shifting mutant from the X-Men is a member of the SSS and protests the Bee every year. Here is the group's Web site, and to prove they're serious, they even have a constitution, which we scrutinized carefully, noting that every single word has the common spelling. What's up with that? Among points in the Simplified Spelling Society Constitution are:

• A member may be expelled from the Society for reasons other than that of non-payment of subscription by a majority vote of those present and voting at a General Meeting, providing always that due notification of the resolution to expel has been given in the agenda of the meeting.

What could possibly get you thrown out of the Simplified Spelling Society? We prefer to think that the only way out is the route taken by Eugene Pontecorvo in The Sopranos.

• The Society may elect up to five Vice-Presidents. These appointments will be honorary and for life, and will be made to recognise special services to the cause of spelling reform.

Yes, they get to serve for life. But the confirmation hearings are a bitch.

Said Romijn in the article in The Hollywood Reporter: "They do this for fun, but it's also their quest. They're trying to update the spelling of the English language to make it easier for other people who are trying to learn how to spell or learn English. And also so kids don't have to learn all the stupid rules they have for spelling and all the exceptions to all the rules."

We probably shouldn't have to point out that Romijn was raised in, and her mother is from, Berkeley, Calif.

When Words Collide [Deadspin]
Simplified Spelling Society

By the way, did you know that these things actually draw protesters? There is little in life that's funnier than picket signs at a spelling bee; even people in line to see Lord of the Rings think that's nerdy.

Young Spellers Duel In 4 1/2 Hour Contest [Billings Gazette]