Les Carpenter Is A Junket Purist

02.02.11 7 years ago 134 Comments

Reader Kyle sent in this horrible column from Yahoo’s Les Carpenter bitching about Super Bowl weather. As you know, it’s the mission of this site to seek out any and all sportswriters complaining about the Super Bowl venue and call them bad names. Join me after the jump as we do just that.


Whew! Always feels good to get that first juvenile insult out there. Really sets the tone for the day. Now, let’s dig in.

ARLINGTON, Texas – In the hours before dawn on Tuesday winter slammed into this place they call The Metroplex.

A frozen rain pattered against windows, a frigid gale whipped through the streets. By dawn the streets and highways were coated with ice.

Snow was general all over Arlington. It was falling on every part of the dark central plain, on the treeless hills, falling softly upon the Susan Skaggs’ mini skirt and, farther westward, softly falling into the Double J’s scalp creases. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely Sheraton hotel room where Peter King lay full off Toffee Peanut Double Nougat Crunch Jolly Ranher Clif bars. It lay thickly drifted on the pussy of Joe Fishback’s hooker for the evening, on the Mike Irvin’s cocaine mirror, on the barren marriage of Troy Aikman and his beard, falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of going from the playoffs to 6-10, upon all the living and the dead. And on Les Carpenter. Poor, poor Les Carpenter.

And the question rose again: why, why, why does the NFL insist on playing its biggest game in cities that can not guarantee good weather?

I dunno, Les. Could it because NO city can ever guarantee good weather? Not even San Diego, which actually averages 43 days of precipitation a year? Oh, and because I’m watching the game at home and COULD NOT GIVE LESS OF A FUCK THAT THERE WAS SNOW IN TOWN FIVE FUCKING DAYS BEFORE THE GAME WAS EVEN SLATED TO BEGIN?

It is clear a lot of people have spent years working to make sure this place they are suddenly calling North Texas puts on a fine Super Bowl. It’s not their fault an ice storm hit on Tuesday. And it’s not their fault that Dallas is unfit to host a Super Bowl.

Of course it’s fit to host a Super Bowl. It has a stadium. It has people. It has a place where you can stick a camera. Oh sorry, did you also want a resort with a swim-up bar and casino? Well then, take vacation time and go on a fucking vacation. It’s football. It can be played anywhere. WHY OH WHY DID THEY HAVE TO STAGE THESE WINTER OLYMPICS IN LILLEHAMMER?!

Indianapolis, Detroit, Atlanta and all the other cold or fringe weather cities that have hosted or been given Super Bowls present similar problems. The game is not meant to be hosted in cold places.

O RLY? Please, give me your reasons. I’d love to hear them.

The success of the Super Bowl always came with balmy afternoons where fans and sponsors could enjoy golf junkets…

Holy shit. Really. REALLY? A Super Bowl is only successful if a corporate sponsor can experience a proper golf junket? I understand that. I remember watching the 2003 Super Bowl and thinking to myself, “You know, this game-winning drive by New England sure is entertaining. But I just can’t quite enjoy it because I don’t know if Papa John was able to get in a quick 18 today in between meetings.” Totally ruined the game for me.

…and the game was certain to be played in conditions no worse than rain. Super Bowl weeks become a convention of sorts where players and sponsors and opportunists all meet to celebrate the nearly completed season.


Super Bowls should be played in a constant rotation between San Diego, New Orleans and Miami, with occasional forays into Phoenix and Tampa. When Los Angeles gets its new stadium – which it invariably will – it can be added to the mix.

I suppose Los Angeles can be allowed into the mix, provided it has the golf facilities nearby I so desperately require.

It’s clear to me that the Super Bowl hosting duties should be awarded not by the league, but by a Blue Ribbon panel of thin-skinned sportswriters. We could have Les on there, and Petey King, and Billy Simmons. They could make sure the game is played in Miami every year, and they could make sure to block off hotel rooms with good coffee and all the pampering their spoiled, sorry asses require. EXTRA TICKET FOR JACKO PLEEZZZ

The league has already handed the 2014 Super Bowl to the new Meadowlands Stadium in New Jersey, which is open-air and destined to be frigid by the time the game comes along.

And good football NEVER happens when it’s cold outside! When I think of football, I think of pitchers and catchers reporting and sharing a hot dog in the bleachers with my daddy. NOT snow.

Now one of Chicago’s mayoral candidates, Gery Chico, is proposing the city should do all it can to land the game.

Oh no! NOT CHICAGO! There’s so little to do there, except eat like a king, drink like a fish, hang out with friendly locals, and enjoy the finest urban architecture in America! WHY NOT JUST HOLD THE GAME IN A FUCKING SEWER! DID YOU KNOW THERE WAS A BLIZZARD IN CHICAGO YESTERDAY?

Undoubtedly a movement will be undertaken. Another city that is ill-suited to host the Super Bowl will make a great push.

But they can bribe you like no one’s business.

And the game will get farther away from what it was meant to be.

Indeed. This was meant to be a free boondoggle for sportswriters and the VP of Planter’s peanuts. That was what the GAME, a football game played for three hours mostly to a televised audience, was meant to be. It wasn’t meant to be a football game. That would be silly!

Les Carpenter is awful.

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