Before we get this week’s batch of Peter King mental waste, I should note that I had the luck of catching King on the FNIA set on Saturday night. A reader emailed us a while back with a useful observation, and that is this: Every time King goes on TV, his report follows this template:
“I talked to (person King sucks off in print), and he said, ‘Look… (empty quote)’”
The reader is exactly right. Here’s a sample batch of King quotes from his night job:
“I talked to Peyton Manning, and he said, ‘Look, we had out chances, and we blew it.’”
“I talked to Pat Bowlen, and he said, ‘Look, I just felt like it was time for a change.’”
“I talked to my proctologist, and he said, ‘Look, we can’t remove those oyster shells without significant tearing.’”
King’s report Saturday Night was spent primarily on aging Gus Frerotte playalike Brett Favre. King’s report?
“I talked to Brett Favre, and he said to Jets GM Mike Tannenbaum, ‘Look… don’t count on me next year. I may come back, or I may not.’”
You know, for the past four years, Tony Dungy has considered retiring. You know what Dungy does? He goes away for a week, thinks it over, and then tells the Colts what he’s going to do. Decision over. Why does Dungy do this? BECAUSE HE’S A FUCKING PROFESSIONAL. Everything you need to know about Brett Favre is contained in that quote. Don’t rely on me, team! But be sure to cater to my every whim should I make up my mind by September!
FUCK. HIM. BLIND.
Anyway, onto Peter King and his anal traits.
The wild-card results set up Rematch Weekend … and the rematches are of five regular-season barnburners. Philadelphia beat New York by six, New York beat Philly by five, Carolina beat Arizona by four, Tennessee beat Baltimore by three, Pittsburgh beat San Diego by one. Wow. You can’t make this stuff up.
I KNOW! THIS SHIT IS KRAYZEE! Again, we find Peter King rendered awestruck by even the most mildly uncommon of occurrences. HOLY SHIT! LOOK AT THESE TWO CHEERIOS IN MY BOWL! THEY’RE FUSED TOGETHER, LIKE A SIAMESE TWIN ZYGOTE! I COULD SELL THIS ON EBAY! SCIENCE!
Oh, and those regular season barnburners? Titans 13, Ravens 10. Steelers 11, Chargers 10. Yes, there were some real fireworks in those matchups. It was like watching the fucking Blue Angels!
Say, that was a great playoff game Saturday night, wasn’t it? Sure, the Colts didn’t get the ball back in overtime, but I didn’t hear many Colts players or fans bitch about the rule…
The overtime rule continues to be the dumbest, stupidest, most indefensible rule the NFL has on its books.
Uh oh, NFL. You done fucked with the Kaaang!
Giving a coin flip more power than Tony Soprano has now deprived us of a satisfactory ending to two pivotal games this year — Jets-Patriots in Week 11, when the Patriots and 401-yard passer Matt Cassel never saw the ball in overtime after a heroic fourth-quarter comeback, and Colts-Chargers, when we didn’t get to see the NFL MVP even play in the fifth quarter because it was a one-possession overtime.
For real. What a shitty ending to that Chargers game. Darren Sproles clinching it with a Mach 3 sprint to the end zone? BOR-ING. Why couldn’t the game have ended with Peyton Manning countering Sproles’ touchdown with a series of soul-killing passes to Dallas Fucking Clark, putting the game into 6 more overtimes with some kicker finally winning it with a perfunctory field goal? Man, would that have been satisfying!
Instead, we get an ending that was both swift and exhilarating. What a ripoff. YOU COST PETER KING ANOTHER WEEK OF FOUR-HOUR SOUL-SEARCHING TALKS WITH PEYPEY, NFL!
Brian Westbrook and Ed Reed define clutch.
Mark Schlereth thinks that’s a great sentence. That sentence defines heart.
Over the weekend, only Arizona-Atlanta was a relative snoozer.
You mean the one where Kurt Warner had to convert a brutal late third and long to stave off a possible Falcons rally? Yeah, that game was a real shit show. Gimme Chad Pennington lobbing 37 picks in a game any day of the week over that!
I laughed all day Sunday when I kept hearing from the experts about how Peyton Manning didn’t look much like an MVP on Saturday night. No crap, Sherlock!
Whoa, this column is getting heated. Will you be able to handle Peter’s truth?
Pretty hard to be great when you’re on the road in the playoffs and your average starting point all night is the 16-yard line.
This is true. Then again, HE’S THE FUCKING MVP. Does he really need Peter King to make a thousand excuses on his behalf? Well see, Peyton was hurt. And the overtime rules are unfair. And he had bad field position all night. And the kickoff time didn’t coincide with lunar cycle the way it should have. AND DEMONS! DEMONS POSSESSED POOR PEYTON’S BODY! YOU TRY WINNING THE GAME WHEN THE BALROG HAS VIOLATED YOU!
I Don’t Know Who To Praise More From Sunday’s Games This Morning — Brian Westbrook or Ed Reed.
It’s so unfair. You’ve got two penises in front of you, and you can only suck one! Why did God give man just one oral cavity? IT’S NOT RIGHT THAT A PENIS WOULD GO NEGLECTED!
Reed’s not into the I’m-the-greatest game. He’ll let others do it for him, and I’m glad to oblige.
ED REED’S THE GREATEST!
First, I have to issue a major mea culpa to the radio listeners who heard me say the other day Mangini would never get the Cleveland job. Stupid me; never say never in January.
Or perhaps you should just avoid saying never entirely.
Will Pioli return to the safety of the dynastic womb in New England?
I doubt it. As dynastic wombs go, Bill Belichick’s is very cold and damp. And its amniotic fluid is black. Also, Belichick has been known to reach inside the womb and cut the umbilical cord if he finds himself displeased with you.
Hey, it’s fun to speculate… Who really knows?
Not me! Maybe Jay Glazer knows and will actively work to report something useful, but I sure as fuck can’t tell you anything.
The Fine Fifteen
6. New England (11-5).
7. San Diego (9-8).
Because if you’re going to write up meaningless rankings each week, you should take great care to make sure those rankings are REALLY meaningless. Nihlistic, even. That they are devoid of any semblance of coherence or context. Let’s rank the Macbook Air 6.5th!
13. Minnesota (10-7). Back to the drawing board, Tarvaris.
What drawing board? He’s not the coach. He doesn’t design the plays. I don’t want Tarvaris Jackson to go back to the drawing board. I want him to go to a bottle recycling facility and jump into one of the rendering vats. That way, the Vikings won’t be retarded enough to waste yet another fucking year ON A SHITHEAD QB WHO FALLS TO FUCKING PIECES AT THE FIRST FUCKING SIGN OF TROUBLE.
Oops. Got off track there for a moment.
14. San Francisco (7-9). I’d love to be Mike Martz’s realtor.
Because you keep the same realtor no matter what city you move to!
15. Houston (8-8). Offensive coordinator Kyle Shanahan is on the beach in Cabo this morning with his father — or he’ll be there this afternoon, I should more accurately guess…
Never say never, my friend.
Quote of the Week I
“I would have, actually.”
— Matt Millen, the deposed Detroit Lions president, asked by Dan Patrick on NBC’s “Football Night in America” Saturday whether he would have fired himself this season.
Just checking… going back in my archives, and yes. Yes, that’s a big fucking lie. Matt Millen wouldn’t fire himself even if you held a goddamn slingshot to his cock. And that’s Matt Millen for you. He doesn’t even know when he’s not being candid. WHY IS THIS ASSHOLE ON NBC? I WANT TO FUCKING KILL.
Can you blame (Mike Shanahan)? What job out there is a great job? St. Louis, actively seeking a new owner? The Jets, who appear screwed up if not quite rudderless? Detroit, coming off 0-16? Cleveland, with cap and leadership issues? Shanahan’s got to be thinking he’d rather wait for Jerry Jones or Dan Snyder, or some other owner to chase him in 2010 — or before.
Take it from Peter, all you future head coaches out there. Don’t waste your time trying to get a position that offers unfathomable job security regardless of how badly you fuck up (Detroit), or vast resources with a great fanbase (Cleveland). No, no, no. You’re gonna want to hold out until a job opens up working for the two most meddlesome, micromanaging owners in sports history. That’s the PRIMO shit. If you’re REALLY lucky, a spot in Oakland will also open up again!
Ed Reed, FS, Baltimore. “He’s maybe the best player in the game,” coach John Harbaugh said after the 27-9 Ravens win. Easy now.
Leave the breathless overpraising to me, bucko!
Maybe Matt Millen and Jerome Bettis are right. We semi-argued in the NBC studios Saturday night about…
I’m sorry, I couldn’t finish that sentence because my brain liquefied and seeped out of my eyes. This is what happens when your brain starts to picture a semi-argument between Peter King, Matt Millen, and Jerome Bettis.
King: To me, Brett Favre defines gutsy.
Millen: I think he’s gutsy. But he’s also tough, too. He’s gut-tough.
Bettis: You two crazy!
Of course, you can’t have a full argument between these three men. An argument requires having a) a topic, and b) people willing to take clearly defined, opposing positions. I think that’s a bit much to ask of that FUCKING TRIO FROM THE BROADCASTING NETHERWORLD. Only semi-arguments for them, please. It’s for the best.
Mind if I vent?
Oh, by all means. If it’s about the blue Maxima, I assure you I’ve heard it before.
Reason to Leave New Jersey Dept.: Friday, 4:10 p.m. Leave for the 16-minute drive to Garden State Plaza in Paramus, for the 4:40 showing of “Frost/Nixon” at big movie megaplex. Friday, 4:27 p.m.: Arrive at parking structure. Look for spot. Friday, 4:34 p.m.: No spots inside or outside a parking facility bigger than Rhode Island. Lines of two and three cars following pokey shoppers to their cars. Drivers swear at drivers. Friday, 4:38 p.m.: Much cursing of car volume in the Garden State. Finally find a shopper with no line behind her. Follow her to the spot. There’s a latecomer zooming in from the opposite direction. I wait. Woman backs out. I park. Latecomer drives away, yelling, “Thanks, —munch.” Friday, 4:48 p.m. Frazzled. Thank God for previews. We miss nothing.
What an epic tale. It’s like a David Lean film squeezed into a single paragraph. It’s got everything: uneventfulness, parking, a protagonist too fucking clueless to know a mall might be crowded on a day most everyone has off, and the word “assmunch.” Then there’s the suspense. Will our hero ever get to see “Frost/Nixon” IN ITS ENTIRETY? Don’t spoil it for me! This could be the greatest story since Peter King’s “I-95: A Driver’s Journey”.
d. Andy Reid: Ernest Hemingway with wire-rims.
So Reid’s going to fellate a shotgun this week? I’m okay with that.
f. I’m actually starting to like Deion Sanders on TV. I know that’ll rankle some peers, but he’s confident, he’s opinionated, he backs up opinions with good arguments (some of which I think are bunk, but who cares?)
Deion Sanders makes some good arguments, some of which are actually bad. But hey, at least they aren’t semi-arguments. And who gives a shit if his arguments are good or bad when evaluating his performance as broadcaster? Why should that matter? I LIKE CHOO CHOO TRAINS!
I think Brett Favre is perilously close to leaving the game…
OH NO! WE’RE ALL IN PERIL!
— for good, this time — and disappearing into a Mississippi deer stand for a long time.
Beats a dynastic womb, that’s sure.
Keep in mind, here’s Peter King on March 4th…
”I think he’d rather edge his 465 acres in Hattiesburg, Miss., and worry about how to contain the runaway beaver population than to have the bright lights on him, even in a small town like Green Bay, for five months a year.
Favre loved being just a guy.”
So yeah, King’s reportage on this matter is about as reliable as his ability to navigate mall traffic.
Favre told me GM Mike Tannenbaum purposely didn’t ask him whether he planned to retire or not when they met last Monday, because the GM feared Favre would say he was gone. Permanently.
“Oh no! He finally disappeared into that deer stand!”
I still have a voice mail from last March from Favre, saying he was retiring, and there was nothing remotely tentative about that.
It’s true. King saves all his voice mails from Brett. They go right into the hope chest.
I’ve been wrong on this story a lot over the years, but after listening to Favre on Friday night, I would be very surprised if he played anywhere, ever.
HOLY FUCKING SHIT, ARE YOU THE MOST EASILY SURPRISED HUMAN BEING ON PLANET EARTH?!
“Omigod! Brett’s playing again!”
“Omigod! This mall is crowded!”
“Omigod! Realtors only stay in one location!”
“Omigod! I have pubic hair!”
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.
Marty Mornhinweg … Marty, Marty, Marty. You’ve had a good play-calling December, and now, in the playoffs, and you’re my Coach of the Week this week, but … Third-and-one, 80 seconds left in the first half, you’re moving the ball on the Vikes, Minnesota has just scored to move within 16-14, and you throw deep downfield instead of just getting the first down and move downfield to a David Akers field goal or maybe even a touchdown right before the half. Just get the first down and a fresh set of downs.
Marty, you’re great! But you suck! You’re the Deion Sanders of play callers. BUT WHO CARES? HAS ANYONE SEEN MY STUFFED PONY?
You got away with a clear over-the-back interference non-call, Yeremiah Bell, when you climbed over Todd Heap at the goal line to knock that potential first-quarter touchdown pass away.
And I will MAKE YOU PAY WITH YOUR LIFE. I will take you down to Chinatown, Yeremiah Bell. You don’t get away with that shit on PK’s watch!
Explaining why the movie business deserves our disdain: The New York Times reported that the reason movies like “Frost/Nixon” and “Gran Torino” are out for a month in only a handful of theaters nationwide is to create a buzz for them and a ticket demand. If I had any principles, I’d boycott “Gran Torino,” but I can’t because I’m an Eastwoodaholic. But that’s a good way to improve business, Hollywood. By extorting people.
How is this extorting people? Hollywood opens in select cities to build up buzz, then slowly rolls the film out to sustain interest and avoid overhyping it. My God, THAT’S STEALING!
Coffeenerdness: “Refresh” tea, at Starbucks, now is my go-to drink when caffeine is to be avoided at all costs. The minty drink, I’ve discovered, is quite good cold.
Tea? Iced? YOU’RE BREAKING ALL THE RULES!
You can get anything you want at Alice’s Restaurant.
And Peter knows. Just last week, he asked for Alice to whip up some Double Stuffed Veal Loaf with Sasquatch Sauce, and Alice came through.
Caught “Bobby,” the Bobby Kennedy assassination movie. Compelling and interesting.
Just like China!
Emilio Estevez is smart.
Of course he is. HE’S JOHN WISDOM, DAMMIT.
He made a movie where about 20 disparate characters from all walks of life come together at a major intersection of history.
Wise move. A good director always populates his movie with too many characters and then erects a contrived plot where they’re all in the same place as a famous historical event. AND HE DOESN’T TRY AND EXTORT YOU BY USING A SMART ROLLOUT MODEL.
Peter King Word Of The Week: Supercilious. Like DeSean Jackson was on his final punt return in Minnesota Sunday. Did you see that? He ran out of bounds like the thing wasn’t important, like he didn’t care. Weird.
Supercilious def.: disdainful: having or showing arrogant superiority to and disdain of those one views as unworthy; expressive of contempt; “curled his lip in a supercilious smile”
It doesn’t mean indifferent.
Look Peter, you’re an assmunch.