Mark Sanchez and Eva Longoria are done.

Reports came out last night that the 25-year-old Jets quarterback and the 37-year-old actress have ended their relationship that wasn’t even really a relationship to begin with.

According to Eva’s rep, the two barely ever saw each other due to scheduling conflicts. You know, because it’s obvious that Sanchez watches more tape on a weekly basis than Ron Jaworski and Jon Gruden combined and has little time for a social life.

There have been conflicting reports of who dumped who, as always. But here’s hoping Eva let go of Mark.

Eva had to have known that Sanchez is one 66.6 QB Rating game away from being John Skelton. Plus, she can’t have two pro athletes just blatantly walk all over her in the span of two years. That’s career suicide sister friend.

Aaron Rodgers never forgets

On Aaron Rodgers’ weekly radio show he shared a story about how a professor at Cal laughed in his face when he told her he wanted to play in the NFL. This is just a tremendous story and one that would provide fuel for any athlete for an entire career. In fact, if you are a young athlete you should probably hire a teacher to berate you in someway. It will only make you better.

Rodgers: “She’s looking at me condescending, talking down to me. And she says, “What do you want to do with yourself?”

I said, “I want to play in the NFL.”

She laughed. She laughed at me. It wasn’t like just a funny laugh, it was a condescending laugh and she said, “You’ll never make it. You’ll get hurt. You’ll need your education, and you’re not gonna make it through school here.”

I said, “okay”, I said, “I don’t agree with any of that.”

I just want to tell that teacher right now today, thank you for adding to that chip on my shoulder, and I hope you are a fan.

Tales from the Chris Webber School of clock management

I can empathize with this poor young sap who spiked the ball.

Not to be one of those guys who tells war stories from high school, but I’m about to tell you a war story from high school.

1999: Amesbury vs. Pentucket (my team) basketball. 5.5 seconds left on the clock. Fourth quarter. My team up by two.

Amesbury takes the ball out under its own basket and the inbounder throws a baseball pass to half court. I intercept it. Awesome right? Great defensive play.

I start celebrating the win immediately (whenever you can beat a below .500 Division 8 basketball team at home, there’s reason for celebration people).

I joyously jump up and down with the ball in my arms. Run halfway down the other end of the court with my finger in the air like we had just won the Larry O’Brien trophy.

Then I hear a whistle, followed by a couple hundred gasps.

Dr. James Naismith would have called what I did just there a “travel.”

So, Amesbury gets the ball at halfcourt with 1.8 seconds left on the clock. Plenty of time for a game-tying or (gulp) game-winning bucket. What happens?

Amesbury inbounds the ball to the dirty blonde-haired point guard that, of course, I’m covering and the kid jacks a 3-pointer right in my face!

The ball hangs in the air for an Al Davis lifetime. It’s right on target … AND … BANG!!! … Back-rim.

Yes, Virginia. There is a God. And yes, to this day I struggle with Andy Reid-like clock management.