Every week, Peter King types up his column, and every week I read through it hoping for comedic gold: factual inaccuracies, broad observations one could make simply by being awake and upright, stories that illustrate how totally King fails to see his own self-involvement (CURSE THAT BLUE MAXIMA!), etc. And King usually delivers. But sometimes, you have to dig a bit to get to the good stuff. I mean, if you read only the beginning of his column this week, you’d run into fairly benign shit like this:

Think of the accurate throwers of this era — Joe Montana, Peyton Manning, Warren Moon, Tom Brady.

Warren Moon’s career completion percentage? 58.4%. That makes him the 49th most accurate passer of all time, behind such luminaries as David Carr, Hugh Millen, Tim Couch, and Jay Fiedler. So when I think of accurate throwers, I don’t think of Warren Moon. In fact, there are so many more worthy people to NOT think of, before you even get to the people you SHOULD think of when you think of accurate passers. I only think of Moon when you bring up the subject of men who like to choke their wives and then chase after them in the station wagon as they flee for help, and that is as it should be.

But as we said last week, King doesn’t really think of accurate passers. He only thinks about thinking of them, and thus is liable to pull virtually anyone’s name out of the ether: Warren Moon, Dave Brown, Jonathan Taylor Thomas, and such and such. Alas, this is still a fairly weak thing to pick on. I want something that is just fucking LUDICROUS, DAMMIT!

Ran into Robert Wuhl the other day.

Yes, that’ll do. TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR AMAZING BRUSH WITH GREATNESS! I haven’t been this atwitter since you ran into Sally Kellerman!

You know, “Arliss.”

He was Arliss? HOLY SHIT! He was that guy on that show that made me want to claw out my own heart? Wow. How dare you mention something like this so casually, Peter. Oh, I know Arliss. How could anyone forget such an indelible character?

We’re getting closer to the kind of pointless inanity I’ve been searching for all column long. But surely there’s something can top a Robert Wuhl anecdote for sheer idiocy…

People need their coffee.

Yes, that’s it!

I found that out Sunday morning, around 8, in front of the Starbucks in the Wintry Mix Capital of the World, Montclair, N.J.

You’re telling me people like having coffee in the morning? GET THE FUCK OUT. I have now learned two things I didn’t know yesterday. One: people seem to like this new ground java-infused hot water beverage that’s spreading across the nation. Two: it appears that people enjoy it earlier in the day, as a kind of “pick me up,” as it were. I’ve been told they often put cow’s milk and assorted sweeteners in it as well. This is one funny world we live in!

One car, a beat-up Corolla, stopped in the middle of the road, put on its flashers, and the driver got out. I mean, the car stopped on a quiet Sunday morning, with the driver apparently afraid to park in the wet snow for fear of getting stuck, and the driver simply left the car idling in the middle of the road and went in to get coffee.

Well, one car came up behind and stopped, and then another, and they stopped, and waited maybe 30 or 40 seconds, and the second car beeped, wondering what was going on, and then the guy hustled out of the coffee shop with a venti something or other, got in the car, and drove away.

Now there’s something you don’t see every day.

I agree. Extraordinary. To give you an idea of the incredible rarity in which an event like this occurs, I present you with the following chart:

CHANCE OF OCCURRING IN THE NEXT YEAR
Nuclear Holocaust – 5%
Bird Of Paradise Mating Dance Caught On Camera – 2%
Clean Fusion Discovered – 0.5%
Unassisted Triple Play Made By Chimpanzee – 0.07%
First Contact With The Gakphods Of Nebula Twelve: 0.0001%
Kraken Rising Out Of Ocean Once More: 0.000025%
Some Asshole Stops On A Practically Deserted Winter Road To Grab A Quick Drink: 0.00000000004%

To put it in perspective, if we were to plot the chances of this astonishing event on a parabolic graph, it would be at a point on the line where the space between the point and the x-axis would be thinner than a carbon dioxide molecule. THAT is just how rarely you see a dude make that kind of coffee run. Stunning.

I compared (Sammy) Baugh — who died last week at 93 in his native Texas — to Brett Favre early this season, as charismatic quarterbacks from the south who loved to work the land in the offseason and took teams on their backs in-season.

Talk about rarities! If there’s one thing I’ll always remember about Brett Favre once he retires 457 years from now, it is that he LOVED TO WORK THE LAND. Every day during the offseason, Favre will walk out of his home, dig his hands into the soil, and say to the Heavens, “THIS IS YOUR BOUNTY, OH LORD.” Like the Quakers, Favre is a man who at one with his plow. What a throwback. What a cultivator. This man could grow tomatoes in the goddamn Kalahari, I tell you.

Penn State is insane. A three-year contract extension for an 82-year-old coach who has had recent health problems? Why is there no one at this august institution who can tell a man whom the school isn’t positive can even STAND on the sideline every week that it’s time to step down? Can anyone who bleeds Nittany blue honestly tell me Paterno has the energy to out-recruit coaches 40 years his junior for the best football players in the country?

For real. It’s not like they went to the Rose Bowl this year. And it’s not like JoePa could just go hire talented people to go recruit for him while he remains an effective figurehead. Or like he helped build half of the school. STOP FOOLING YOURSELVES, YOU PEOPLE! HOW CAN ANYONE POSSIBLY LEAD WITHOUT THE POWER TO STAND?

a. Sat next to Rodney Harrison at the “Costas Now” 2008-sports-year-in-review show the other night in New York. When Tiger Woods appeared on a satellite hookup to talk with Costas and Rocco Mediate about the ’08 U.S. Open, and then about how he was more excited than ever about resuming his career, Harrison leaned over to Osi Umenyiora, sitting next to him, and said, “Look at Tiger! He’s still hungry!”

ZOMG?! Can you believe that shit?! Who knew Tiger Woods would still want to win when he’s only 4 majors away from tying Jack Nicklaus’ record, and has already demonstrated a near superhuman level of competitiveness? When he got injured, I just assumed he’d gain 400 pounds and never pick up a club again! What are the odds he’d want to continue being the kind of person he’s always been? Amazing. DO YOU THINK HE MAY HAVE BEEN THE MAN WHO WENT TO GO GET COFFEE?! THAT’S SOME RARE DETERMINATION!

b. Players just love Tiger. Players in all sports.

a. And here is your weekly
b. Misuse of bullet points
3. This is where I switch to numbers!

I’ll gladly take movie recommendations. Don’t come with any of that weak stuff, though.

Yeah, people. Don’t you go telling Peter to see movies he may end up not liking! If you want to know just what Peter is looking for in a film, I suggest you go rent The Journey Of Natty Gann immediately.

(Regarding the Teixeira negotiations) Good for Boston. Good for Anaheim. In this economy, should a baseball player be paid more than $20 million a year?

Yes, way to show fiscal restraint, you two. If only every major league club had the temerity to scrape by on a $119 million payroll.

Seven hours of shoveling Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Where did my daughters go? They were always such good shovelers. Come home girls! Come home!

YOU’RE SO GOOD AT WORKING THE LAND!

So there you have it. While Peter may not deliver the goods right off the bat, you can always count on him to BRING THE FUCKING PAIN by the end of his column. You just need to be patient. Like Brett Favre is with his celery crops.