Anyone with a sweet tooth, or even the occasional hankering for chocolate, knows you've got the M&M Plain and the M&M Peanut. Anyone who has seen the Detroit Lions of late knows too well with which of those varieties loyal fans of the franchise have been burdened the past two seasons.

Oh, those nutty M&M Guys, team president Matt Millen and deposed head coach Marty Mornhinweg, comprised quite a tandem, while it lasted.

	Marty Mornhinweg won only five games in two season as the Lions' head coach.

Melts in your mouth, and not in your hands, right? Forget it. The last couple editions of the Lions were more like tabby cats, suffering a meltdown at the mere mention of competition, winning just five times in 32 games and with zero road victories during the short-lived Mornhinweg tenure.

A good guy, and one who declined to rip his former boss or the Ford Family even after he got what he suggested was a two-second exit interview, maybe Mornhinweg was miscast by Millen as head coach material. Let's face it, the coach Millen really wanted to hire when he assumed the franchise's reins in 2001 was Mariucci, but he was otherwise occupied at the time.

So, instead, Millen settled for Mooch Lite, hiring a Mariucci disciple in the person of Mornhinweg, then ultimately discovering that he wasn't even a reasonable facsimile of the real deal. More than light, Mornhinweg seemed a lightweight in a league filled with 500-pound gorillas, and his attempts at playing the heavy failed miserably.

Remember the one contrived stunt, when during a particularly loose training camp practice, Mornhinweg jumped on his Harley and roared in disgust off the field? Yeah, that one really got the players' attention, huh? And what of the scruffy goatee? Eventually, even it had to go-go, because it did little to debunk the notion Mornhinweg was not a tough guy.

At one point during his playing career at the University of Montana, where he gained fame as very good middle-level quarterback, Mornhinweg was suspended for a year for allegedly, uh, "securing" a test days before it was actually administered by the professor.

There were occasions the past two years, like when Mornhinweg opted to kick off to begin an overtime this season, when it appeared that even handed a cheat sheet with all the answers, he would not have succeeded.

And for that, it sez here, Marty Mornhinweg should not be held entirely or solely culpable. Indeed, transforming Motown into Notown was certainly a joint venture, a shared experiment that blew up in everyone's face, a bad investment that predictably went bust.

Sure it sounded good, not to mention alliterative, at the time. Millen and Mornhinweg. The M&M guys. Newest saviors to a franchise so dubious that, in the past 40 years, no coach fired by the Lions has ever gone on to be a head coach in the NFL again. (Hint: When you start distributing the ol' resume, Marty, highlight the fact you were one offensive coordinator for the San Francisco 49ers. It'll serve you better than the latest reference.)

But it is difficult for guys who have been around the NFL forever to succeed right out of the gate. To pair a first-time head coach with a former player whose only previous front office experience was visiting the executive suite to sign his new contract was asking for trouble.

And that's precisely what the Ford family, with its flawed blueprint, got in return for mixing inexperience and ineptitude.

Unlike some of our peers, we are not going to suggest that Millen was "in over his head," as many have assessed. Even after covering the league now for 25 years, we still don't know Millen well enough to denigrate him that way, or to make a viable analysis of where he has gone wrong. That said, he clearly has detoured from whatever yellow brick road he felt would carry the Lions into consistent playoff contention.

And it appeared, from his podium-smacking display on Monday afternoon when he was queried about the direction of the franchise, that Millen does not fully comprehend the morass he has helped to create. Back in the Cold War days, former Soviet prime minister Nikita Khruschev banged his shoe on the podium during his infamous "We will bury you" speech to a United Nations assemblage.

Other than bouncing around a few tape recorders, maybe destroying some television microphones, Millen's outburst hardly engendered the same fear. And it's perhaps a good thing Millen didn't remove his shoe, because he might have then inserted his foot in his mouth, which only would have made a bad situation that much worse.

In the next few days, ironically, Millen figures to make that bad situation a lot better by hiring Mariucci, who arrived Thursday for a formal interview. It is, of course, Mooch's job to lose. Chances are he will accept the position, and the annual salary of about $4 million annually that accompanies it, and begin the daunting task of cleaning up a mess.

Then again, the wind could shift, and Mariucci could change his mind.

Assuming he does take the job, it will be the M&M guys, part deux. And while the fit should be a much better one, don't expect miracles, because the Lions are not an abundantly blessed team.

Oh, sure, there is a terrific young building block in Joey Harrington, and the second-year quarterback will benefit greatly from Mariucci's tutelage. And there is the second overall choice in this year's draft, the new and beautiful Ford Field, long-suffering yet loyal fans, ownership that is more concerned with selling F-150 pickups than meddling in football matters.

But there is also a history of futility -- Detroit has won just a single playoff game since capturing the 1957 NFL championship -- and a roster which has grown far too accustomed to losing. The defense is aging, with onetime stars like Luther Elliss and Robert Porcher in decline. The wide receivers are hardly good fits for a West Coast-style offense. There are a few good, young players, like left offensive tackle Jeff Backus, but there is a reason this team won but five games in two years.

Changing one of the M's, and merely substituting a Mooch for a Marty, might be a step in the right direction. But it took more than a year to re-design the Mustang and the Thunderbird and it will take some time to retool the Lions franchise.

Millen probably bought himself another few years -- certainly self-survival instincts were an element in the dismissal of Mornhinweg -- but he'd better get it right this time.

Len Pasquarelli is a senior writer for ESPN.com. To send Len a question for possible use on ESPNEWS, click here.