The moment of clarity for me – of excessive, decadent clarity – came in 2004 in Texas, where the locals like to believe they invented "big". It was a few days before Super Bowl XXXVIII in Houston, when I attended the annual "Commissioner's Party" held at the Super Bowl site every year.

The NFL didn't rent out a hall for the event. They used the Astrodome. The whole entire Astrodome. Inside, they put up curtains to separate different parts of the field – the entire football/baseball field – into "rooms". Each room had a theme. Each room had food. Mountains and mountains and mountains of food. There were bands playing in every room. There were roped of VIP areas. There were bars everywhere. And food. Lots of food.

What put me over the edge, though, was this: There were men and women paid to stand on platforms in the middle of the "rooms" and not move. They were living, breathing – but not moving -- statues. Many of them. In every room. Everywhere I looked.

It was inside that gigantic building seven years ago with the creepy, non-moving people, that it all hit me square in my puny wallet. That was the moment I realized that the NFL was proof that even if money can't buy happiness, it can pretty much buy everything and anything else. The league wasn't just on it's way to being the most popular sport in America. It was a monument to excess. It was one giant exhibition of people trying to find new ways to spend cash.

I thought of that during the NFL lockout last spring when billionaires were flying their private jets from city to city, then hoping into limos and heading to posh hotels so they could look their employees in the eye and, with a straight face, cry poverty. The NFL lockout wasn't about a better business plan for the league. It was about making rich people richer. It was about the NFL's mission statement: The constant desire for more.

Well, they got it. The NFL, already a $9 billion per year industry, has labor peace secured through 2021 when some experts estimate the league revenue could exceed $20 billion per year. By any measure, the NFL owns America's sporting landscape and is probably the biggest cash cow the country – or world -- has ever known.

How big is big? Consider this:

--The $9 billion in revenue the NFL is said to have brought in during the 2010 season – before the big offseason lockout – isn't quite enough to buy them Iceland (which has an estimated gross domestic product of $12.5 billion), but it would get them Madagascar ($8.3 billion) or most of Papua New Guinea ($9.6 billion). Or they could get Barbados ($3.9 billion), Antigua ($1.1 billion), Belize ($1.3 billion) and still have nearly enough left over for Fiji ($3.1 billion)

--If they ever hit that $20 billion mark, they can think much bigger. For starters they could get Iceland and Nicaragua ($6.5 billion) as a package deal. They'd have just enough for Equatorial Guinea ($19.4 billion) or they could buy the island of Jamaica ($14.9 billion) and have plenty of cash leftover to pay the locals to stand on podiums and act like statues. They could also almost buy Panama ($29.7 billion), though they might have to let someone else buy the canal.

--The Giants and the Jets spent $1.7 billion to build the new, very gray, mostly ugly MetLife Stadium at the Meadowlands that opened two years ago. For a lot less than that they could've had Saint Lucia ($1 billion), which is a heck of a lot prettier than the box they built in the swamp.

--When QB Sam Bradford was drafted first overall in 2010 he got a $76 million contract with $50 million in guaranteed money. If he wanted to, he could have used that guaranteed money to pay the 2011 payrolls of any of five Major League Baseball Teams – the Cleveland Indians ($49.1 million), San Diego Padres ($45.8 million), Pittsburgh Pirates ($45 million), Tampa Bay Rays ($41 million), or the Kansas City Royals ($36.1 million). Hey, the Rays even made the playoffs – unlike the
Rams.

--One year later, with a tighter "rookie salary cap" the first overall pick was QB Cam Newton, and he got a fully-guaranteed four-year, $22 million deal. For that he could've bought a minority interest in the cash-strapped New York Mets, which included the wonderful perk of "access" to their mascot, Mr. Met. Apparently if he wanted, he could've had Mr. Met attend his birthday party any time he wanted.

--The Colts paid QB Peyton Manning $6.4 million in 2011, even though he wasn't physically able to take a single snap. For that, the Colts could've picked up the tab that Occupy Wall Street cost New York City ($6M). Really, though, that's not all that much. It would've only paid for about two-thirds of Kim Kardashian's wedding ($10M).

--An amazing 111.3 million people watched Super Bowl XLVI making it the most watched television show ever. According to Newsday (in New York), the Super Bowl had more viewers than the Grammys (41.2 million) and Oscars (39.3 million) combined, plus the population of Venezeula (28.8 million) and the estimated number of people who packed Times Square in Manhattan on New Year's Eve. It's also equal to the number of every single person in Texas (25.5 million), California (37.2 million), Florida (18.8 million), New York (19.4 million), New Jersey (8.9 million) and Idaho (1.5 million).

--The lowest paid player in the NFL in 2012 will make $390,000 in salary. The average salary in the U.S. is approximately $47,000. According to some surveys, only about 1.2 percent of Americans make more than $250,000 per year. And 100 percent of the 1,700-1,800 NFL players, of course.

--NFL commissioner Roger Goodell just signed a new, five-year contract reportedly worth $20 million per year – or $100 million total. Not bad for a guy that tightened his belt and took a $1 salary during the painful lockout. For his dollar he could've gotten a bagel or a donut, but not both. For his $100 million he could buy the tiny Polynesian island of Tuvalu, and still have almost enough money left over to pay Albert Haynesworth.