'MariOs Are Crunchy, And They're OK.'

Usuallly, Buffalo Bills players have actually accomplished something in the team's uniform before they get a breakfast cereal named after them.

Mario Williams' main achievement to date has been signing the largest contract in franchise history. In his defense, with 1.5 sacks through five games, the National Football League's highest-paid defensive player has already surpassed Shawn Merriman's Buffalo career total of one.

So he's got that going for him.

The $100 million deal Williams signed after a brief, intense courtship last spring was apparently enough to convince the folks at PLB Sports to immortalize the first overall pick in the 2006 draft in grain form. So MariOs join Flutie Flakes and Kelly Krunch in the Bills cereal annals (I could have sworn there was an Eric Moulds cereal, too, but maybe I'm thinking of an ill-fated contraceptive product).

There they were as I left a local supermarket yesterday -- a prominent display of MariOs. The irony of their existence, given Buffalo's defensive implosion over the past two weeks and Williams' less-than-dominant performance to date, made them an attractive impulse buy.

The box itself made them irresistable. Whether or not Williams shakes off his sore wrist and regains the All-Pro form he showed in Houston, he can already claim the greatest cereal-box cover photo in Bills history.

As for the cereal itself, the jokes would almost write themselves, were We Want Marangi a bastion of cynicism. But, no, MariOs do not cost $2,483 per O. And they do not go soggy the instant the milk touches them.

This box warranted a real review of its contents, so I decided to bring in a couple of experts.

Oscar, who is 6, was instantly enthralled by the packaging, and insisted on having a bowl with his supper last night.

"You'll love MariOs, Jackson!" He told his 9-year-old brother after a few spoonsful. "They're awesome!"

The three of us each had a bowl this morning. Jackson's response was somewhat more muted.

"MariO's are crunchy, and they're OK," he said.

But then, he was never a huge fan of their culinary inspiration.

"I never liked Cheerios, but I didn't really try them," he said. "I didn't like hole in the middle. I thought it would affect them."

MariOs are, indeed, crunchy. This instantly vaults them ahead of Flutie Flakes, which, on the few occasions I tried them, had a hint of cardboard to their texture. Slightly stale cardboard.

MariOs also have some sweetness, though it's more of the generic sugary variety than the "Honey Nut" flavor claimed on the box.

According to that box, "Mario Williams is donating 100 percent of his proceeds from your purchase of this cereal to benefit pediatric cancer patients and their families through Carly's Club at Roswell Park Cancer Institute."

No joke there. You can find out more about Carly's Club here, buy your very own MariOs T-shirt here, and get your very own box at Tops Friendly Markets.

And I may have discovered one reason for Williams' slow start. If the photographs on the box are any indication, he seems to open his mouth very widely when exerting himself. If he does that during games, he should probably stop.