Wow, crazy times. We’re less than a quarter of the way through the NFL season and the circus is already in post season form. Some people compete in suicide pools, some people compete in TO media circus pools. Apparently the time has come to merge the two into the most controversial inter-office activity since the Dundies.

I’m not sure what we’re supposed to think of the situation; it’s not often that we’re confronted with a story as surreal as David Lynch on acid. At first we were told it was an allergic reaction…odd, but not quite enough to whet our morbidcuriosity. Then came the reports of attempted suicide trickling out of Dallas like so many uncomfortable American Airlines connections. Once people heard about attempted suicide they could only think one thing, “how’d he fuck that up?”…well maybe not everybody.

We were forwarded this inspirational
message from an unknown internet artiste.

At first I wasn’t at all surprised, nor was I sure that the comedic value of the story could come close to matching the sobering news. TO is clearly a troubled person who seemed to fit the criteria for a serious mood disorder (in case you weren’t sure you may want to watch SportsCenter PTI, Around the Horn, Outside the Lines, and the NFL Live sometime in the next 72 hours). After a few minutes of inspired commentary with my KSK compatriots I was able to look accept the bleakness while embracing the funny…then came the publi-cyst (it’s paronomasio, deal with it!). Even though she’s clearly without soul (it’s in the job description) I’m guessing she did the right thing for TO when she dialed 911. Conversely, I’d love to see which three numbers she dialed subsequently.

Around this time I was confronted by equal sensations of confusion and curiosity.

There were so many options to consider: attempted suicide, accidental overdose (vicodin makes your hair feel good), stupidity, and allergy (which has to be bullshit because every football gets exposed to vicodin before they’re veterans). Frankly, I’m still grasping a bit here. I’m stuck somewhere between accidental od and stupidity (although I’ve always thought vicodin makes me smarter). Unfortunately I’ve been unable to rule out the possibility of severe depression. TO has made a career out of crying out for help, it’s just too bad they’ve always manifested themselves as arrogance and entitlement.

All I’m left with is the feeling that TO has succeeded in a perverse fashion. Once again the four letter network has become the Ed Werder Hour. Granted we here at KSK have provided a vast supply of commentary on the subject, but we’re an NFL humor site…this is our essence (existence precedes essence). They still have to find time to pander to Nascar fans and cover the race for the pennant race.

All I know is that TO should probably undergo a phsychiatric evaluation before he takes the field. If he really does want to hurt himself (as we were led to believe) we’ll see him going over the middle in Philly.

In the meantime I’ll be anticipating his Nov. 5th return to FedEx, I know Sean Taylor will be.

Good luck Mr. Owens, and stay safe.

I’d be lying if said that, at least up until now, I wasn’t a huge Bill Simmons fan. He was the first sportswriter that had more than basic literacy in pop culture and actively made me laugh when I read his stuff. Even if all he did was talk about some stupid fucking Boston team, he was so unique that I didn’t even mind. He even occasionally dropped subtle complaints about ESPN, and that was fucking sneaky! In many ways, he was the original sports blogger, even if he would never deign to use that term.

Those days are over now. The rest of the Internet took Simmons’ lead and ran with it. Even surpassed it. Now every blog compares some sports team to some other popular culture grouping (Lord knows we’ve probably done it). Plus, now we (thankfully) have entire sites set up to prove that Bill Maas is a complete retard. Simmons helped pioneer a lot of this, and that’s pretty cool.

But even in years past, I had a sneaking feeling that, while Simmons was an entertaining writer, there was a great possibility that in real life he was a smug, arrogant douchebag. He bragged about playing sports instead of watching the Star Wars movies (even though he’s seen The Karate Kid roughly 4 million times). He once taunted Colts fans by saying he was going to sleep with his Pats Super Bowl DVD under his pillow (or something to that effect. I don’t have Insider.). And, of course, there was the endless name-dropping. Carolla. Kimmel. Uh… J-Bug. It all sent off the aura of someone far too pleased with himself.

But I still read him. Even if the shit wasn’t as funny, and even if Deadspin had overtaken Simmons’ page as the go to place for sports humor on the Web, without worrying about all the stupid Boston dogshit.

Well, that’s over now. Today’s chat with Simmons offered proof positive that the guy is a full-on fuckstick of the highest order. The evidence:

I’m happy to chat about that but we’re not going to be posting any jokey/offensive questions about (TO), especially when we don’t know all the facts yet.

Sounding a little like a tightass, but I’ll let it slide.

Brent (South Dakota): As a media person, what are your feelings on Jason Whitlock’s departure? Did he destroy himself, or should a media person be allowed to criticize his work associates without fear of retribution?

Bill Simmons: (12:41 PM ET ) I like Jason a lot, I’ve enjoyed exchanging emails with him and I liked having his column on Page 2, so I’m disappointed in what happened. But I don’t see what he had to gain by venting to a blog. What’s the benefit? So you win the respect of the 3,000 people who spend 8 hours a day posting on sports journalism message boards and blogs because you were “shooting from the hip”? Congratulations. What is this, wrestling? I just feel like there was a better way to handle it. I will really miss having him on the website, I always enjoyed his perspectives on things. And I still plan on reading him at AOL. But I’m disappointed with how everything went down.

Given that Simmons has made fun of Jim Caple (fair enough) and Dan Shanoff (upcoming) on his site, that’s fairly hypocritical. But you know what’s really fucking hypocritical? Trying to categorize people who read other sports blogs as losers. Oh, I already know I’m a loser. No arguments here. But what fucking right do you have, you stupid Masshole fuck, to rip on the same kind of people that support your goddamn site and your original site, which most people would characterize as a blog? Are you fucking kidding me?

Millions of people, maybe more, check out blogs like Deadspin, MJD, and the Big Lead every day. Are these people more loserish than your audience? Oh, you keep on believing that.

You’ve written all the time about how you wish you could rip on other ESPN personalities. Now Whitlock does it and he’s a dipshit for it? Let me write you a prescription from TO’s pharmacist, you fucking asshat. We move on:

Luke (Nashville): How many more years do you see yourself being the Sports Guy if you do leave the Disney family are you going to set up a blog similar to what Shanoff has done?

Bill Simmons: (2:39 PM ET ) Who’s Shanoff?

Pretty fucking arrogant. But wait…

Shanoff (NY): That. Hurts.

Bill Simmons: (2:41 PM ET ) Just. Kidding. Although I wish you had worked as hard on the Quickie as you do on the blog.

Really? Because he wrote that shit every day and you write two fucking articles (one of which may or may not be a mail-in Tiger Woods piece) every week. Nice feedback, you fucking dick.

Matt (Getting Marriedville, PA): Planning a Bachelor Party in Vegas for Final Four weekend. Where should we stay? Which casino has the best sports book?

Bill Simmons: (3:14 PM ET ) You’re crazy. Vegas is done. Go to New Orleans, go to Montreal, go to Toronto…

That’s odd, because you’ve reveled in your trips to Vegas in print roughly 5,000 times over the years. Didn’t know Vegas is “done”, even if it’s the same exact town as it was a couple years ago. Finally, someone has combined with assholishness of a Bostonian with the haughty douchebaggery of an Angeleno. I’m ecstatic.

But let’s go back and find even more ridiculousness. How about a quote from Simmons’ talk with Chris Ballard at SI?

I think back to 1998, when I had my own column, and it was dismissive, like, “Oh, he’s on the Internet.” It was an old guard/new guard thing.

Isn’t that exactly what you’re doing to the people who got the Whitlock interview? You complain about newspapers never letting you write or paying you anything. Now you get paid hundreds of thousands of dollars and somehow those who would emulate you aren’t worthy?

Shanoff can’t say this, so allow me: FUCK. YOU.

I’m here to tell you your services are no longer required. I can find my sports-related humor without a reference to Larry Bird every five goddamn lines, and I can take comfort in the fact that it wasn’t written by that one asshole in the pickup game who insists on being point guard and shouting out coaching instructions. YOU are the old guard now, my friend. You write for a Disney site that won’t let you say anything. You can’t even say fuck. I can. Fuck fuck fuckkity fuck. It’s fun. Try it. Oh wait, sorry. Your editor says you can’t do that. Too bad.

But I hope that 5,000 word essay you wrote on Dennis Johnson turns out really nicely. Fucktard.

PS - Your book sucked, douche.

NOTE: This rant generated some pretty interesting comments down below, including thoughtful defenses of Simmons from commenters Mike Futia, Friz and gladwell (clearly slumming).

Frankly, I think this whole “bloggers think everything sucks” viewpoint is dumb. I take the rest of my life seriously enough. The blog exists so I can make all the tasteless TO suicide jokes I please. I’m not some fucking nihilist. This is a satire site. That means everyone gets made fun of. Including, and especially me. There’s no grand master scheme to get Deadspin links and then take over the sports blogging gay mafia. It’s for fun. 8-year-old fun, but fun nonetheless. Hey, that dog has a puffy tail!

This story is not about Terrell Owens. It is about “TO”. I don’t know Terrell Owens and neither, I assume, do you. “TO”, on the other hand is the public persona/cash cow contrived by Messrs. Owens and Rosenhaus. I am quite acquainted with “TO”, owing in large part to ESPN’s dedicated coverage to all things related to this singular athlete with an insatiable need to adored.

Anyway, to the jokes…

What drives someone, who has a life with all the earmarks of what we have been taught is “success” to throw it all away? An analysis of the final words of some suicide victims may yield some insight; perhaps even more so when compared to the circumstances surrounding “TO”.
Point: Hunter S. Thompson preferred death to becoming an elderly, broken and irrelevant version of the iconoclastic journalist he spent his life creating.

Counterpoint: TO was distraught because the ice sculptor he commissioned failed to accurately capture TO’s true nature as a poet/warlord in his work’s frozen visage.

Point: Despairing over the latest World War, Virginia Woolf filled her pockets with stones and cast herself into the River Ouse because she could not bear the effects another battle with her mental illness would have on her beloved husband.

Counterpoint:TO was despondent because his assistant once again failed to adequately vet his lunch salad for all traces of pine nuts. TO really hates pine nuts.

Point: Kurt Cobain was fatally disenchanted with the commoditization of his work and felt there was a gulf between his adult self and his childhood ideal that could not be reconciled as long as he was still alive.

Counterpoint: TO was upset because Fred “Rerun” Berry couldn’t appear at his birthday party.

This afternoon, he flatly denied attempting suicide — despite overwhelming independent evidence to the contrary. With his camp in full spin mode, it appears “TO” has survived this little episode unscathed, but was Terrell Owens as lucky? Who knows? I’m starting to think he died years ago.