Peter King Hearts Tebowby Gerhart

03.01.10 8 years ago 95 Comments

When we last left Peter King, the man who defines dillweed, he was having secret conversations with nameless architects, warning you about the dangers of skiing, and ripping teams for overvaluing 40 times while taking a brief moment to overvalue Donte Stallwoth’s 40 time. Tremendously tremendous.

So what of this week? Did Harvey Greene try and throw more of that skim crap in Peter’s face? Did Peter wake up Andrew and Allison and twins with his Devil fan-ness? Did Peter marvel at the gorgeous ventilation shafts of the Santa Anita physical plant? CAN THE MAJESTY OF PEET’S ITALIAN ROAST EVER BE TOPPED BY MORTAL COFFEE? Read on. Does Peter have an opinion on the new overtime proposal? You bet your Remdawg he does.

Headlines of the Weekend:

-Nutley Mall Cinema Still Doesn’t Have “An Education”. EXTORTION SUSPECTED
-Favre Busy Disappearing Into Deer Stand
-Laguna Marriott Espresso Still Not Up To Snuff
-Forgot Jerry Rice Was A Great Player? I Didn’t!

The Saints had some fun with Jerry Jones’ favorite wine Friday night.


Overtime reform lives. I am pleased.

Oh, good. Because they changed the rules JUST FOR YOUUUUU.

The Rams, NFL Network and ESPN will be the big winners on NFL Draft weekend. Tim Tebow’s privacy will lose

Oh, no! Tim Tebow’s privacy! It’s in danger! He once led the SEC in discretion, but I fear that won’t last!

Oh Canada, we stand on our feet for thee.

Fuck that. Canada can suck the syrup out of my cock.

I smell a nice rivalry cooking.

But if it’s anything like Sibling Rivalry’s cooking, the coffee-flavored piss they serve is bound to disappoint!

On Friday night, the Saints’ staff at the combine gathered in a private room at St. Elmo Steakhouse, an 108-year-old Indy landmark, for a final celebratory nod to the Super Bowl win over the Colts. This is a group that likes its wine, and likes to have fun.

They lead the league in smiles! Watching the Saints drink is like watching hockey at Fenway! NOT A FROWN TO BE SEEN.

This group clearly has chemistry. What is chemistry? I don’t know. Let’s just say it’s a little bit like making wine…

At the restaurant, word passed that Dallas owner Jerry Jones would have his Dallas group in this exact room Saturday night for a team dinner. Jones had even phoned ahead, according to a waiter, to make sure a magnum of a wine he loved, Caymus Special Selection cabernet sauvignon, was ready to be served at dinner.


Sean Payton told the waiter he’d like to have that wine, too. The waiter told him: Sorry, sir. We have only one bottle left, and it’s reserved for Mr. Jones.


Payton said he’d like to have the bottle nonetheless. I assume there was much angst on the part of the wait staff at that point. My God! Who do we piss off? One of the most powerful owners in the NFL, or the coach who’s the toast of the NFL, the coach who just won the Super Bowl?

Here came the bottle of Caymus Special Selection, and the Saints’ party drained it.

Oh snap! Jerry Jones, you just got cork’d!

But drinking Jones’ wine wasn’t enough. Payton gave the waiter some instructions, took out his pen … and, well, the Cowboys party found at the middle of their table the next evening an empty magnum of Caymus Special Selection cabernet sauvignon, with these words hand-written on the fancy label:

World Champions XLIV
Sean Payton

I want to smoke a joint with Sean Payton.

That’s the kind of thing Jones will get a big laugh out of.

Oh, I’m sure that delighted him to no end. No one loves to be publicly humiliated like Jerry Jones.

I know I’ve gotten this reputation as a fan (maybe haranguer is a better word) of overtime reform…

Now let me justify that reputation with a large dose of haranguing.

Ask yourself this question: If you could invent an overtime system for NFL games, what would you invent?

Don’t ask me. If I were in charge of the NFL, over time would almost certainly involve a Broncos cheerleader being forced to shoot a football out of her twat.

Do you realize that Peyton Manning, Jeff Saturday and Reggie Wayne, the vets the Colts want to uber-protect from injury…

They must be uber protected! QUICK, MEGASHIELD THEM FROM SUPERHARM!

…have not played an overtime snap in the past 88 Indianapolis games?

No way. That’s UBER-KRAYZEE.

Think about being the Rams: In a very good year for draft prospects, teams will reset their draft boards after the first round, look up and see that one of their top 12 or 14 players is still on the board. Notre Dame quarterback Jimmy Clausen. Cal running back Jahvid Best. Texas pass-rusher Sergio Kindle. Idaho guard Mike Iupati. One of the leftover good tackles — maybe Anthony Davis of Rutgers.

I’m no Mel Kiper, and my halfassed scouting opinions on college players are anything but reliable. But I do know this: Jimmy Clausen, who is a worthless fucking piece of shit, won’t be around in Round 2. I assure you. Some team (REDSKINS) will look at Clausen and say, “Spiked hair? Spoiled attitude? THAT’S A LEADER!” And off he’ll go in the first round. To the Redskins.

NFL Network and ESPN will have the built-in tease of all time for day two of the draft — provided, of course, that Tim Tebow is not chosen in the first round.

But how can that happen? That young man defines class. If I’m the Rams, I draft Tebow #1 and then I sit back and have an egg salad sandwich.

I’d say it looks unlikely he goes in round one, but you never know how his stock will rise and fall in the next seven weeks.

Will he go in Round 1? I don’t know. Will he go in Round 2? I don’t know. Is Tim Tebow some kind of starchild, broken off from a white dwarf and sent here to Earth to save us from Krabb, the evil ruler of the Zyphus Cluster Galactic Empire? POSSIBLY.

You think you’re sick of Tim Tebow now?

Trust me, I can make you SICKER!

Tebow’s going to be in a tough position — as will his agent, Jimmy Sexton. How much access does he give the networks to the vulnerable Tebow at that point? They’ll be frothing over Tebow.

Their groins shall throb.

Not that this is going to help Tebow in the eyes of the public. My e-mail and Twitter followers seems to feel about Tebow the same way they feel about Brett Favre: They’re sick of him. Tough balancing act there.

Very tough balancing act. On the one hand, everyone is sick of Tebow and would like his hype to be more muted. On the other hand, OMG DID YOU GUYS SEE TEBOW TALK TO THOSE DEATH ROW INMATES?!!!!

I’m not a big combine guy, as you may know, but I do know NFL teams are pretty happy with what they saw of the running backs here.

I’m not a big combine guy, but apparently people who know about thing like “football” think it’s useful. Who knew?

Here comes the portion of the column that will cause you to fall on the ground and have a two-hour body tremor:

I was encouraged to see a guy I like a lot, Stanford’s big back, Toby Gerhart, run a 4.53, a little better than people thought he would.

Hmm. Toby Gerhart. Gee. Wonder why someone like Peter King would be enamored of a player like Toby Gerhart? What is it about Gerhart that’s so interesting? Is it his scrappiness? Is it his grit? Is it his semi-Welkerian determination? Hmm. Can’t quite put my finger on it…

Anyone who watched Gerhart play last season and who would think he can’t play in this league and play at a high level just doesn’t know football.

Look at how hard he runs! Show me another back with that kind of lunchpail attitude. If I’m the Rams, I take Toby Gerhart at #1, and then I count my millions.

Disappointing runner: all-purpose back Dexter McCluster of Ole Miss. He ran in the 4.5s. Not good for a guy who weighs 171. He sure plays better (and looks faster) than that.

FREEZE! Look at that again. Dexter McCluster blows because he ran in the 4.5s. Total disappointment, as opposed to…

I was encouraged to see a guy I like a lot, Stanford’s big back, Toby Gerhart, run a 4.53, a little better than people thought he would.


Wait a second. I know what the fuck is going on here. This is because Toby Gerhart is an engineering major, isn’t it? I have you nailed Peter King. Oh, you always wanted to see an engineering running back do well, because they never do. I AM ON TO YOU.

Also, Peter would you to keep in mind that 40 times mean nothing.

I’m a Zach Parise follower, and the way he was skating with such determination and moves I thought he’d do something great at some point. So with about seven minutes left, I Tweeted: “Anyone else have a feeling Zach Parise’s going to make a big play in the last seven minutes?” And, of course, he scored the tying goal with 24 seconds left.

“Nostradamus!” Rich Eisen Tweeted in response.

Oh, Rich. You are so behind the times. Peter has been making observations like this his whole career. Who can forget such gems as…

-“Anyone else think this Manning kid might make a Pro Bowl one day?”
-“Call me crazy, but these computer things are HERE TO STAY.”
-“Something tells me ticket prices for sporting events will continue to rise!”
-“I don’t like the direction Michael Jackson’s life is headed.”

Text Message of the Week

“Sidney Crosby will never have to pay for another Labatt’s for as long as he lives.”
— Brian Hyland, former producer of NFL shows at HBO and NFL Network, two minutes after Crosby went five-hole on Ryan Miller to give Canada a 3-2 overtime victory over the United States for the Olympic gold.

The same way Adam Vinatieri will never have to pay for a Dunkin’ Donut…



Tweet of the Week

“Watching in airport bar. Even Charlie Weis, seated across from me, was screaming like he was named newly crowed prom queen.”

And that’s a visual I really didn’t need. I imagine it’s the same as walking in on Chaz Bono banging “his” wife.

FACT: You do get prom queens that look eerily like Charlie Weis if you grow up in Indiana.

Quote of the Week III

Tulsa World reporter John Hoover, to the assembled media at the Scouting Combine on Saturday, a day after a phony rumor surfaced that Hoover, making a joke with Tebow, actually asked the Florida quarterback for an autograph in his reporter’s notebook on Friday.

I was only joking! In a hilarious, Rick Reillyesque manner of funniment!

I had the pleasure of trying a couple of the local beers — and loved a pale ale from Munster, Ind., called Three Floyds Alpha Kings Pale Ale. Coppery color, slightly citrusy, slightly mindful of Shock Top, only with more bitterness.

It’s no ale-flavored water, that’s for sure. But why doesn’t this ale have any caffeine in it? I specifically ordered a Three Floyds Alpha Kings Pale Ale double brewlatte with coconut shavings and triple lychee nut foam! YOU PEOPLE ARE A LONG WAY FROM BEING TOONE P. WIGGINS.

The Indianapolis airport, the only major American airport opened since 9/11, is terrific. It’s like a mini-Pittsburgh when the Pittsburgh airport/mall opened.

I defy you to parse that last sentence. The Indianapolis airport is like a very small, model version of the city of Pittsburgh, right at the time its airport and mall combination opened. It even has a very small version of that airport, in its airport!

If you can connect through Indy someday (have no idea who does that), I’d advise it.

“Honey, is this flight nonstop? Fuck that. I wanna see that Indy airport. I hear there’s a CPK.”

Nice-looking wine bar in the atrium outside security.

And an arcade for fat children!

Had my head buried in my MacBook Air on an AirTran flight home to Boston for 15 or 20 minutes Sunday…

Burying one head’s in a Macbook Air is not unlike burying one’s head in the warm and soft chest hair of The Land Baron himself.

Oh, do you not have a Macbook Air? I always mention the product I own by brand. Like this Wolfgang Puck sandwich I bought. You can taste the expense.

…and I paid no attention to the woman and baby across the aisle until I heard the sound of a baby struggling a bit. I turned to see the woman positioning the tot for some breast-feeding. No blanket, no clothing covering anything. Just a breast.

And I thought… “Pfft. Amateur. I have TWO of those.”

In one decade, the number of media covering this event has increased 25-fold. Seriously. That’s an accurate number.

Unlike the numbers I usually give you, which I draw at random out of a used Sun Chip bag.

Scouts think Jimmy Clausen’s too cocky.

I’m shocked. Thank you, scouts. Glad you could enlighten everyone with an observation anyone could ascertain within half a second of looking at Jimmy fucking Clausen. Scouts also think Sam Bradford may have shoulder concerns.

I think it wouldn’t be the scouting combine without Gil Brandt. I learn something every time I talk to the man.

Did you know a rhino’s horn is actually made of hair? HOW ABOUT THAT?

I think Mike Holmgren looked and sounded like a man with a sense of urgency to pick a quarterback, put him under center, and let him play 16 games — without the pressure of looking over his shoulder at the backup. “A quarterback needs two full seasons before you can judge him. What’s Brady Quinn started? Twelve games? How can we know if he’s the guy?”

Correct me if I’m wrong here, but that actually sounds like Mike Holmgren would like to give Brady Quinn a chance to start so he can give him a fair judgment.

Which is dumb. Because Brady Quinn blows. You don’t two full seasons of Brady Quinn stumbling backwards to know that.

Google “Amy Bishop, Huntsville.” If you haven’t followed this story, you’ll think Stephen King wrote it.

…the Harvard-educated neurobiologist is accused of shooting three people to death at the University of Alabama-Huntsville in a rampage allegedly fueled by her denial of tenure.

Except in the Stephen King version, it’s the STUDENT that kills everyone. Then there’s a bunch of kooky Maine townsfolk! And then King writes on op-ed article in Entertainment Weekly in which he implores you to watch Law Abiding Citizen and listen to Steve Earle’s no-nonsense brand of country boogie.

Bring on baseball. Lots of it. I’ve got to get ready for my Rotisserie Draft, and I have no idea who’s closing for Tampa Bay.

It’s John Kibler!

Of course, by the looks of things in Boston, we’ll need an ark by April, not Fenway.

Ho ho! Can you believe this crazy Boston weather? You name me another town with such a fascinating weather pattern!

Great job, Bob Costas.

On what? Looking like he’d rather be at a baseball game?

All of it. Impressive how he can shift from Peyton Manning to Shaun White and look comfortable doing it.

Amazing how he can appear arrogantly indifferent regardless of the setting!

The great thing about Costas is how he can juggle all those sports, look interested, and talk competently.

Indeed. The great thing about Bob Costas is that he can appear to be interested in the event, even though he could give two shits, and that he can speak in full syllables with a prompter’s assistance when the camera is turned on. Special guy.

How great was that women’s skating final? How rare to see none of those women choking. Beautiful performances.

No one fell? Well, that’s a waste of time. Was Sasha Cohen there? She’s a fucking FOX.

You know you’ve got a serious espresso problem when you walk four blocks out of your way on a windy 14-degree morning with no head covering so you can get a Starbucks latte. That happened three times at the Combine. Look on the bright side: It’s coffee, not whisky.

I’d think more of you if it were whisky.

Conrad Hotel, you can’t be beat.

No perfumey shampoo in your shower!

I just don’t think the Super Bowl should be schedule to be played outdoors in February in New Jersey. So shoot me.


And somewhere, the chef at Peter’s favorite Italian restaurant in Montclair is substituting nutmeg for urine in his lasagna.

NOTE: I am a shitty person, but I’d be an even shittier person if I didn’t implore you to go ahead and donate to Peter’s USO charity fund, which helps send care packages to soldiers fighting in Iraq.

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