When last we left cough drop foodie, Peter King, he was explaining how 34-minute Super Bowl delays are just fine with him so long as they happen at room temperature. He asked readers to Google the story behind the “Heck of a job, Brownie” quote, because PK thinks his readers are idiots who never watches the news. Petey was also shocked to discover that casinos are depressing places overcrowded with sickly degenerates and the elderly, so of course he tried to spend a day there writing.
What about this week? For the sake of sparing what’s left of my sanity, I’ve decided to trim the MMQB takedown during the off-season, when Peter King feels even less obligated to stay on subject. Did it work? Not really. This blob is still going to kill me. Ah well. Let’s run out the clock together. READ ON.
Was it only me listening to Baltimore owner Steve Bisciotti and trusted GM Ozzie Newsome the other day, thinking they’re going to throw the first big changeup into this offseason? Was it only me taking their words and reading resolve in them, and thinking it’s actually possible that Joe Flacco could be stolen by a quarterback-needy and starved-for-relevance team like Cleveland?
Listening to Bisciotti and Newsome, you’d be a fool to think it’s not possible. Probable? No. But look at the tea leaves.
Dammit, why does no one possess the foresight of our dear Peter King? It’s like he’s covering the NFL by himself out there. Has no one stopped to consider that the Ravens might do something other than cave to whatever Joe Flacco asks for, no matter how ridiculous and crippling to Baltimore’s finances?
Not only does Peter have the clarity of vision to see that the Ravens might play hardball with Unibrow, he also sees the possibility that contract negotiations will go absolutely swimmingly. Because he bases this 1,000 word intro on empty conjecture and twisting a couple quotes, he makes it seem like they’re both equally likely scenarios, which allows him to pretend like he called it no matter what happens. Total PK shithead move.
But think of the shot of adrenalin for the Browns, if they could rip away Flacco from a team they despise. What sweet irony for Cleveland, to steal the Super Bowl-winning quarterback from the team that stole their franchise. With new owner Jimmy Haslam and uber-aggressive president Joe Banner dying to make a splash to show their fans this won’t be the same old Browns, imagine Cleveland signing Flacco for five years and $110 million, making him the highest-paid player in history. And say Cleveland makes the 2013 salary $35 million. That way it’d be almost impossible for Baltimore to match; if the Ravens balked at $20 million per, you think they’d accede to $35 million in Year 1?
OH YES, WHAT A COUP FOR THE BROWNS! Cleveland would totally stick it to Baltimore by grossly overpaying for a player who, if you’re being generous, is only the third-best player on the Ravens roster. Of course, that revenge would totally kill the Browns for years to come, for tying a shitload of cap space to a quarterback bound to return to being roughly the tenth best in the league, who would then have no one to throw to. FEEL THE ADRENALIN RUSH OF RETARDERY!
Cleveland’s not the only team that could be interested. Ralph Wilson would write the check tomorrow for Flacco to come to Buffalo, draft picks be damned.
In PK’s defense (!!!), I doubt Ralph Wilson has learned his lesson from Mario Williams last year, either.
I don’t sense Baltimore is too concerned about replacing Ray Lewis on the field.
Not to worry. Plenty of other bodies out there capable of jumping on piles and dancing like a dipshit after other people do work for you.
The Ravens have to re-sign Ellerbe, and thinking back to how much the Ravens liked Rey Maualuga on draft day 2009, it wouldn’t surprise me if they went after him in middle-class free agency after the initial rush … Tell you who I think would be a great fit for Baltimore at 32 in round one, if he’s there: inside linebacker Manti Te’o …
If this were coming from anyone other than PK, it would be so amazingly stupid, it’d be adorable. Peter King spends this much time around football and he thinks it would be a good idea for a team to take Manti Te’o in the first round. I’m not saying there’s no chance Te’o eventually becomes a decent contributor for some team, but anyone would took him in the first round of this draft would have to be fired immediately. Peter probably only wants this to happen because replacing Ray-Ray with another crazy, overrated religious nut is a super Xerox of Fate move.
PK is going to spend the next two months talking up Te’o and trying to push his stock back up, isn’t he? I think we already know the answer.
The reason officials called no hold as two Ravens mugged 49er special teamer Bruce Miller on the 108-yard kickoff return for touchdown by Jacoby Jones in the Super Bowl: Miller would have had to be taken to the ground for it to be a penalty. Dumb, dumb rule. Miller was surrounded and held by two Ravens just as Jones sprinted by. The Competition Committee has to change that rule in 2013.
Oh hey, the lone nugget of useful information in the entire column. It only took 1,500 words of baseless speculation and terrible advice to get to.
Quote of the Week II
“It sounds unbelievable, but it really wasn’t strange. It’s competition. My father will have another crack at it — more than one. You put everything you have into this, and whatever happens, you have no regrets at the end. But to fall short by one play, at the end of the game, I just can’t imagine how that must feel.”
— Jay Harbaugh, son of Jim and a coaching intern with John and the Baltimore Ravens, to me, on the feeling of working to beat his dad’s team to win the Super Bowl.
TO MEEEEEEEEEE. JIM HARBAUGH’S SON SAID THIS PEDESTRIAN AND UNINSIGHTFUL COMMENT TO MEEEEEEEEE!
Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me
One of the guests sitting in the front row at the Donald Driver retirement ceremony in Green Bay last week was Phil Morris, a big Packer fan and a friend of Driver since they met in 2003.
Morris … aka Jackie Chiles, the lawyer who represented Kramer in “Seinfeld” in the latte and Sue Ellen Mischke bra cases.
Of course, hours after Driver’s tearful farewell, there was the evening TBS “Seinfeld” rerun, with Jackie Chiles trying, and failing, to get Kramer damages after he wrecked a car while ogling Mischke walking down the street with only a bra as a top.
As Bill Parcells used to say, sometimes God is playing in these games.
WE SEE YOU UP THERE, BIG GUY. That’s right, God makes His presence known by having a rerun of one of the five “Seinfeld” episodes that Jackie Chiles appeared in play whenever the actor who played him attends a funeral. THAT’S HOW GOD WORKS, ASK THE RETIRING POPE! Just like how PK said God supposedly wanted Peyton Manning and Andrew Luck to meet in the playoffs, until He didn’t.
Name five things God is more responsible for. You can’t!
Mr. Starwood Preferred Member Travel Note of the Week
I’m not much of an airport fan.
Sad places. Quasi-casino-esque.
Airports are things you cope with; you don’t enjoy them. Except in cases where you’re pleasantly surprised, the way I was last Monday.
You don’t enjoy them, except when you do.
After a Super Bowl week that included nine hours of sleep in my last three nights in New Orleans, all I wanted to do was return my rental car, get on my flight, go to sleep and wake up when my plane landed in New York.
But I’m a Super Bowl veteran, and I know when the airport is in a smaller city like New Orleans, the day-after is going to be total mayhem, with long security lines and every seat taken on every flight out of town. That increases the chance of getting that dreaded middle seat in coach, the seat that, if an airline president were ever to be sentenced to one for a two- or three-hour flight, he’d surely ban them or risk burning in hell on judgment day.
I had flown out of the Gulfport-Biloxi International Airport in southern Mississippi before, and I figured, “Who would think to fly out of there on the day after the Super Bowl?” A few savvy travelers, but most would either fly Monday out of New Orleans or wait to Tuesday to get a flight from New Orleans. The difference in travel time — 76 miles from my New Orleans hotel to Gulfport-Biloxi, 13 to the New Orleans airport — would be made up, I hoped, by no lines and maybe even some room on the plane.
The trip took 70 minutes. I walked the keys for the rental car 50 yards to the rental counter inside the terminal. I checked my two bags at Delta in two minutes. The kiosk spat out the heavenly upgrades from coach to business on both legs of the Gulfport-to-Atlanta and Atlanta-to-LaGuardia. I was the sixth person in the security line; time through the line, maybe five minutes. And with an hour to spare before the flight, there was time for a fish sandwich and a Lazy Magnolia South Pecan brown ale. Or two.
Twenty-nine Super Bowls. Best postgame Monday of them all.
Have fun with your crowded regional airport, Super Bowl NEWBZZ. PK totally got the best of you suckers. That’s some well-earned smug from a guy who was blindsided by a crowd appearing at a well-publicized Terry Francona book signing in Manhattan.
I think of all the controversial decisions the NFL has made this year, the one to not fine or sanction Cary Williams is the easiest to rip. It’s wrong on 77 levels. The NFL has just said that it’s OK, in the heat of the moment, for a player to put both hands on an official and shove him back angrily. I would love to be a lawyer next year when a player touches an official and is fined. That’ll be the easiest appeal ever — and if I lose, I just go to the media and show both incidents and say, “What bureaucratic nimrod dispensed this kind of justice?”
Except FANCY BIG CITY LAWYER PETER KING would be pointing his sausage fingers at Roger Goodell, who would respond with a set of spiderman push-ups, forcing PK to withdraw his point.
I think this is a sentence I never thought I’d write in my life: Joe Flacco went to the Tommy Hilfiger Fashion Show at Fashion Week in Manhattan the other day.
That’s the key to big-time writterin’, my friends. Never anticipate the endless random sentences you could conceivably be forced to write in the course of your career. The genius is in your surprise. Peter King is astounded by everything and that utter and pointless astonishment is what makes him the best.
I think the NFL owes quite a bit to Jim Sweeney, the former Montana State, Washington State and Fresno State coach who died Friday night at 83 in Fresno. He convinced Jan Stenerud to kick in college. He coached Trent Dilfer and Henry Ellard at Fresno. Mike Martz learned from Sweeney in the Fresno coaching staff. Tough and smart and offensively imaginative, Sweeney won 200 games as a head coach, and in his day, Fresno was the Boise State of the West.
He gave us Trent Dilfer AND Mike Martz? WHERE’S HIS PARADE!?
10. I think these are my non-football thoughts of the week:
a. Sports Story of the Week: From Scott Cacciola of the New York Times, a sort of baseball/sociological piece about people who wait for hours for a Derek Jeter autograph that quite likely will not come. I’m not sure if it’s more pathetic that the people wait, or sad that Jeter won’t spend five minutes a day accommodating them.
Exactly. Why bother waiting for sports mementos when you can just steal them from little kids, or have athletes GIVE them to you in exchange for friendly coverage. Such saps you fans, you probably took the New Orleans airport. If you could even afford to go to the Super Bowl!
b. News Story of the Week: From Kevin Helliker of the Wall Street Journal, an exhaustive piece on how Truman Capote may have played favorites with sources and thus may not have gotten the whole truth when researching In Cold Blood, his best-seller about the murders of a family of four in Kansas in 1959. Capote, whose book was published in 1966, had unprecedented access to the killers and to a vital piece of evidence in the case, the diary of a 16-year-old girl who was one of those killed, and the evidence.
“Seeeeeee, I’m not the only journo who plays favorites with his sources. By the way, I ran this column by Peyton Manning and he said it didn’t knock any of his endorsements, so it’s good to go.”
c. Finally saw Flight, the Denzel Washington-as-alcoholic-pilot-hero-sort-of movie. He was very good, as he always is. The movie was pretty good. My problem with it: horribly, horribly depressing, and unrealistic that such a screwed-up guy would be able to keep getting in cockpits for years, and it was waaaaaaay too long.
Damn straight. If constant scandal on all levels of society has taught us nothing, it’s that high-achievers are always well-adjusted people.
Also: “This movie was pretty good, except it was depressing, absurd and overlong. Other than that – GREAT STUFF!”
d. Watching the blizzard coverage on TV in New York Friday, I was sure thousands would be killed by the crush of snowflakes. Then I woke up Saturday, put on the TV, and saw pretty much the most common thing that happened in the Tri-State Area was that people were going to have to shovel for four hours.
e. We do tend to overreact to weather in this country.
OH MY GOD FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCKKKKKKKK YOOOOUUUUUUUUUUU
You’ve been lecturing about the problems of a cold-weather Super Bowl and the elements since the idea was first broached. I can’t believe the lack of self-awareness. This man has to be the biggest troll ever or a total sociopath.
f. Got sick when I got home from the Super Bowl. Got reacquainted with Luden’s cough drops. What’s better than a Luden’s cough drop? Almost makes you want to have a sore throat.
Another benefit of cold weather Super Bowl! Suck ’em down by the handful with citrus beer and Goodell ejaculate, you fucking human landfill.
h. Beernerdness: Strand me on a desert isle with Lazy Magnolia Southern Pecan brown ale, and I’ll be just fine. Great taste. Not too nutty.
Now taking donations from the KSK readership to get PK on this island with his perfectly nutty nut beer.
i. I want to play Arian Foster in Monopoly.
Celebrations of capitalism clash with his zen ways.
He was tweeting about it the other day, about the cat replacing the iron as a new token (Down with the cat! Save the iron!), and he gave away his Monopoly philosophy: always go for Baltic and Mediterranean. He’s right. Get the cheapie purple color group, put hotels on them early, and rake in $250 or $450 all game long when people land. Personally, I’m a big railroad fan. I think every time I’ve gotten a hold of all four, I’ve won.
Both of you are wrong. That game would be an entertaining shitshow, however.
j. My wife hates
to play me in Monopoly because it brings out the sick competitor in me. And God help you if you don’t give me the iron as my token.
Fixed that for you.