AS REQUIRED by law, over the Thanksgiving holiday I watched a lot of NFL football, the only league where a Mardi Gras seemed to break out on every play.

Is it me, or is all the celebrating officially getting out of hand now?

Apparently, there is no accomplishment so insignificant that pro football players won't celebrate it anymore.

They celebrate sacks. They celebrate interceptions. They celebrate a 2-yard run up the middle by some fat fullback.

If they pick up a first down, they celebrate by flexing their muscles Hulk Hogan-style, as if no one in league history had ever picked up a first down before.

A routine tackle? That's good for at least 10 seconds of posing, snarling and head-shaking of the you're-not-getting-by-me variety.

And we haven't even mentioned the touchdown celebrations. The touchdown celebrations are now better choreographed than Miss Saigon.

Once upon a time - oh, here it comes, a burst of old-fogey reminiscing - a great running back like Jim Brown would flatten six guys on a spectacular 50-yard gallop into the end zone and then simply hand the ball to the referee.

Today if anyone scored and just flipped the ball to the ref, they'd pull him off the field and ask: "What's the matter with you, son?"

Then they'd screen him for depression and put him on 200 milligrams of Wellbutrin.

Then he'd end up in a support group for players too inhibited to cut loose when they score.

Because these days when an NFL player gets in the end zone, he's more or less expected to put on a show, preferably some kind of skit.

Oh, guys still spike the ball or dunk it over the goalposts on occasion.

But this is now considered quaint, like helping a little old lady across the street.

Now if you want to make the SportsCenter highlights, you need to add some kind of kabuki theater to your touchdown.

Chicago Bears wide receiver David Terrell, for instance, celebrated a recent touchdown by leaning on the goalposts while pretending to count a wad of cash.

After another TD, he pantomimed getting into a car, turning on the ignition and rolling down the window.

When I saw the replay of the car bit on ESPN, I thought: What's Marcel Marceau doing in full pads and a helmet?

Of course, it was San Francisco 49ers wide receiver Terrell Owens who put on the ultimate post-TD extravaganza this season.

After catching a touchdown pass in a game against Seattle, Owens whipped a Sharpie pen from his sock, signed the football, and gave it to his agent in the stands.

Personally, I loved this move and gave it a 10 for originality, as it underscored, at least symbolically, the unholy alliance between NFL players and their agents.

But a lot of people reacted as if Owens had suddenly turned into the anti-Christ.

And, of course, Sharpie was so mortified that it immediately released a commercial lampooning the event, a funny spot that showed a football coach delivering a pep talk and then confiscating his players' Sharpies before they take the field.

And it probably made them millions. Ladies and gentlemen, Sharpie is proud to introduce its new national spokesman, Mr. Terrell Owens!

At Green Bay's Lambeau Field, the Packers celebrate touchdowns by doing the "Lambeau Leap" into the stands to receive hugs from their fans, many of whom look pretty bagged up.

If I were a player, I'd be leery about leaping into a bunch of fans who've been pounding Schlitz and eating bratwurst in the parking lot since 7 in the morning.

But the Packers seem to like it just fine, and so do their fans, probably because it's usually 10 below zero and hugging a sweaty guy in pads takes your mind off the cold.

Another form of touchdown celebration you're seeing a lot more of this season is what we'll call "God-pointing."

This is the phenomenon where players lift their gaze and point their index fingers to the heavens, apparently giving glory to God.

Maybe God goes for that sort of thing, I don't know. That's the sort of deep, theological issue I feel unqualified to answer.

But if God likes football players pointing up at him, if He's up there in heaven thinking, That's right, give it up for me, does that mean He gets hot at the players who don't point after touchdowns?

That seems like a real stretch, doesn't it?

Me, I just don't see God sitting down on a Saturday night thinking: Not enough of the Ravens were pointing at me last week. Who're they playing tomorrow, the Bengals? Yeah, I think we'll give this win to Cincinnati.

We're the only ones who get that carried away with the game.