When we last left Fallfoliageville mayor Peter King, he was counting the minutes on his Acela ride, trying to locate the fiend who made off with Aaron Rodgers and Greg Jennings’ precious chemistry, and openly displaying the power of his powerful, powerful column by ranking NFL teams in an extremely arbitrary order. The Vikings at #15? That’s not a misprint, gang!

So what about this week? Did Hakeem Nick heal, heal? What young rapscallion ruined Peter’s otherwise lovely train ride by talking and being otherwise convivial? Did Peter see any more Broadway shows packed dense with the kind of spittle-spewing drama he prefers? READ ON.

To: Jerry Jones.
From: Me, representing everyone in the football world.
Re: Your team.

To: Starbucks.
From: Me, representing everyone in the Pumpkinillatte world.
Re: Your Pumpkinillatte

To: Acela.
From: Me, representing everyone who is kind enough to not indulge in using the Beamer on weekends.
Re: Your lack of an age restriction

To: Capital Grille.
From: Me, representing everyone in the upscale chain dining world.
Re: Your bread, which is FABULOUS

To: Brett.
From: Puffykins.
Re: Your chin, which I’d like to massage my testicles on to promote healing and blood flow

Everyone can see your Cowboys are not playing hard. We saw it in the NBC viewing room Sunday

And you know what else I saw in the NBC viewing room? Free chicken satay! MY WORLD IS ONE OF IMPOSSIBLE LUXURY.

You’ve got to put Wade Phillips out of his misery, and you’ve got to do it now.

We all know Wade’s a prince of a guy.

His Majesty Wade Phillips, Prince of Whales!

/ZING!

It’s time to put a guy in the job for the rest of the year who won’t take the same crap Phillips is taking right now. I’d choose offensive coordinator Jason Garrett…

GAHHHHH!!!!!!

Garrett: Mmmm. Yes. Indeed. Surely, there can be no finer replacement out there for a disorganized batch of slugabeds such as these! These players shall learn the PRINCETON way of discipline, in which any backtalk results in a two-day suspension from all Eating club eatings! And watch DeMarcus Ware tremble in fear when I tell him that he won’t be able to use the Worthington’s ski chalet this holiday season!

Garrett will be uber-organized…

“Look at these swing passes I’m calling for Felix Jones! They are arranged not by alphabetical order, BUT BY PROJECTED YARDAGE ACCRUANCES.”

Can’t you just imagine Al Davis this morning?

/imagines Al Davis this morning

/envisions a team of very old men wearing tuxedoes walking down into a cold, stone basement to unwrap a lacquered corpse from a damp cheesecloth, buffing that empty shell to a high shine, and then fitting the molted husk of flesh with prosthetic teeth

The 4-4 Raiders are alive

You’re more than alive, Raiders! YOU’RE MAXI-ALIVE!

Quarterback Jason Campbell points to a speech coach Tom Cable gave the team the night before the Denver game, when he implored them to stop worrying about making mistakes and to just play with abandon.

“Don’t worry about shit like plays and who runs where. Just picture my bitch wife’s head on Kyle Orton’s body.”

I liked what the Patriots did, liked the moxie of the beat-up Saints…

Those Saints are quasi-McNabbish in the moxitude!

oohed/aahed at the Raiders.

Never have I been more shocked an at ooh/aahing. I feel all ooh/ahhened out!

11. New Orleans (5-3). The first sniff I’ve had in weeks that things might get back to some semblance of Super Bowl normalcy sometime this year.

Might they overtake Matt Schaub in Normalcy Efficiency? We’ll see. They’ll have to enjoy dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and touch themselves only in private if they want to make any headway in the Regularness department.

13. Oakland (4-4). A big jump into the Fine Fifteen, and it’s well-deserved.

THAT IS THE POWER OF THE COLUMN. KING GRANTETH YOU ENTRANCE, RAIDERS. NOW YOU MAY DINE ON ALL THE COMPLIMENTARY AIR TRAN FAMOUS AMOS COOKIES YOU DESIRE!

MVP Watch

2. Peyton Manning, QB, Indianapolis. As usual, think of the two-loss Colts with Curtis Painter playing. I rest my case.

As usual, think of virtually any team with a really good QB not having that QB. Light: BROUGHT.

Coach of the Week

Norv Turner, head coach, San Diego.

For one of the few times in his 197-game NFL coaching career, Turner got ticked off at halftime.

“One more blocked punt, and you will lose your ping pong table privileges for a least an hour!”

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me II

I shared a dressing room with Rihanna Saturday.

Worst. Headporn. Ever.

Kind of.

I shared a dressing room with Rihanna Saturday. Possibly. MAYBE. I also dined with Lincoln’s ghost and ran a full marathon. PERHAPS.

On home Notre Dame Saturdays, I dress for the NBC halftime segment in the room where my TV clothes are stored…

And where I change out of my everyday garb of husky cargo shorts and a free Land Shark Lager promotional tee.

along with Rodney Harrison’s and Tony Dungy’s.

I KNOW PEOPLE IN THE FOOTBALL WORLD!

This week, the star was Rihanna. After the Notre Dame halftime show, I went back in the room to change, and I was nearly through when a woman, maybe 28…

28-ish. Wearing uggs, no doubt.

…walks in and, with a look of You are NOT supposed to be in here, says, “Ohhhh. Uh, this is Rihanna’s dressing room.”

“I’m almost done,” I said. “One minute.”

“Just lemme hear this saved voicemail from Romo and I’ll be at full release!”

Mr. Starwood Preferred Member Travel Note of the Week

So my Montclair buddy Jack Bowers…

THE Jack Bowers?!

and California daughter, Laura…

I like the idea of adding state prefixes to any child. And here is Angelina Jolie’s Cambodia son, Maddox. Much better behaved than the Namibia daughter. Those ones are always a handful!

took a busman’s holiday Thursday to see World Series Game 2 at AT&T Park in San Francisco. A great trip. The highlights:

Oooh! Ooh! Are there slides! LET ME GET MY CUP OF SLEEPYTIME TEA!

Rode two cable cars.

Wow, this is like the train, but even TRAINIER! I feel so untethered to my ghastly weekend Porsche.

Smelled marijuana near Fisherman’s Wharf.

Far out, man!!!!

Stood at the northeast corner of Clay and Sansome streets near the Embarcadero and could see three Starbucks within 50 yards — one to my left, one straight ahead, and one to my right

My God, they’ve topped Indiana, PA in Starbucksitude! I never thought I’d see the day.

– all the while evading people trying to enter Peet’s right behind me.

Who knew pretentious West Coast assholes liked expensive coffee? NOT ME.

Smelled marijuana near Lefty O’Doul’s, the quaint only-in-San Francisco bar-cafeteria downtown.

Peace out! It sure is vibey in this town!

Learned to like Fat Tire Amber Ale, thanks to a tap at Lefty O’Doul’s.

It had distinct notes of Shock Topishness.

Saw lots of “TIMMY SMOKE” T-shirt with marijuana leaves on them, in honor of Tim Lincecum getting pinched on a marijuana charge last year. Think that doesn’t make him a favorite of the locals?

They smoke weed here! And wear tye-dyed shirts! And listen to old Byrds records! And they play acoustic guitar at virtually any Starbucks location, OF WHICH THERE ARE MANY.

Loved the ballpark and the fans and the atmosphere and the cove and the center-field denizens. [See photo of me with my new, uh, hairy friend.]

Let’s see that photo.

YOU AHHH A FACKIN’ TRAITAHHH TO WOODHEAD NATION, YOU FAT CUNT! NEVAH SHOW YOUR-AH FAT FACE IN THE BACK BAY AGAIN!

I’ve been to big sports events before where the fans have more of an interest in saying they were at the game than actually being into the game.

In other news, I WENT TO THE WORLD SERIES, EVERYONE! Let me use 700 words in a football column to tell you about the time I had. And what a time it was!

That was one intense crowd, from the first pitch. The cutest 5-year-old girl in our row was clutching and pounding her glove, waiting for a ball all night, and never missed one pitch.

And, at last, she caught a ball. And I stole that ball from her. Because she is a child and would not appreciate it on the level that I would.

Smelled marijuana walking out of the park, then a block later on Second Avenue, walking from the stadium.

KEEP ON TRUCKIN’, MAN! TUNE IN TURN OVER DROP BY!

Postscript: Ten hours after walking out of the stadium, I’m sitting in New York Jets special teams coach Mike Westhoff’s office in suburban New Jersey, interviewing him for a story. Isn’t it a wonderful travel world?

I traveled from one city to another. Boring, unnecessary fact? OR MIRACLE OF SCIENCE?!

Tweet of the Week I

“NFL apologists alert: This will be 9th WS winner in last 10 years. How many times has NFL had 9 champs in 10 years? Nada.”

–@jaysonst, Jayson Stark, the estimable ESPN.com major-league baseball analyst and a writer whose stuff I’ve long admired.

Ooooh, I’m so scared, Jayson Stark! Your baseball is so kewl, with its multiple champions and slow pace and assface rope necklaces. What chance does poor old football have against you?

Eat shit.

THINGS I LIKED

Favre played. He was glad he did. Played well too. “I was shocked I was able to play and move around the way I was,” he said.

“Let me just give myself an overabundance of credit after yet another horrible loss.”

No reason he won’t play again next week too.

Because he’s so brave!

m. Mike Shanahan’s stones.

They’re so tan! How’d he get them like that? You usually only see tan balls like this on the Amalfi Coast!

Teams wear throwbacks too often.

And I don’t care for the way they let their facial hair run amok.

Randy Moss implying the Vikings should have gone for the field goal at the end of the first half on fourth-and-goal from the Patriot one in a 7-7 game. I guarantee you’d have heard grumbling from the Vikings if Brad Childress had gone for the field goal instead of using the best running back alive, Adrian Peterson, to try to make a yard, and a touchdown.

/slaps on homer hat

That call was one of the stupidest calls in a game littered with classic Childress fuckheaded moves. I don’t give a fuck if the players had bitched about kicking a field goal. It’s a road game against the AFC’s current best team. I wanted to rape a kitten when I saw them going for it, and I wanted to rape that kitten a second time when they failed, because anyone who knows the Vikings knows they ALWAYS fuck up plays like that.

This is the third week in a row where Peter King has praised a rash decision that ended up fucking failing. So if you want Peter to love you, be sure to blindly fuck up in a reckless and Favrian manner. I didn’t like that you took out that group of school children when you closed your eyes driving down the street. BUT DAMMIT, I ADMIRE YOUR MOXIE, SIR.

Max Hall. Looks like he’s playing with zero confidence now, totally unlike the guy I saw in training camp.

What happened to the clutch goal line fumbler I used to know?

Seems the biggest controversy (of our Top 100 players) so far has been the ranking of the modern quarterbacks (surprise) who’ve played since 1970. They’ve fallen in this order: Brett Favre 20, Tom Brady 21, John Elway 23, Dan Marino 25, Roger Staubach 46, Terry Bradshaw 50, Troy Aikman 80, Steve Young 81, Kurt Warner 90, Joe Namath 100. Obviously, there are a couple of quarterbacks I haven’t named who just might be in the last show. One is active and might be playing tonight. Another is retired and has the same last name as a western state with a very big sky.

Timmy North Dakota? How is he better than Brady?!

I think I liked two things Mike Tomlin said to Bob Costas in the NBC Football Night in America interview last night. Costas asked Tomlin about what changes he’s seen in Ben Roethlisberger since the QB returned from his four-game suspension. “As a player, he’s enjoying the monotony more,” Tomlin said.

“He much more smily.”

I think these are my non-football thoughts of the week:

Not to be confused with the rest of the column, which was about baseball.

a. MLS Eastern Conference semis: New York vs. San Jose. Come again?

b. I thought it was weird when Phoenix was in the NFC East. Well, I guess San Jose is east … of Honolulu.

c. Bullet points. You don’t need lots

$: If you don’t have multiple thoughts.

Z(vii): Hey, that rhymes!

Always learn a lot reading the New York Times.

Always?

Always.

Even on a Wednesday?

Like last Wednesday:

DAMN! THAT’S GOOD PAPERIN’!

Did you know Bill Clinton’s a vegan?

“Eating pussy is 100% humane, Peter.”

Is there any doubt hat Bill Clinton is only a vegan for five minutes every lunar cycle?

That a public school superintendent of a system in Maine with declining enrollment traveled to China to try to convince parents to send their kids to school in his town?

“Hey Chinese kids, would you like to talk even funnier than you do now?”

That, in the past 26 years, 24 New Yorkers have been killed or seriously injured in fights arising over Halloween eggings? That (and I particularly liked this one) the World Series mayors are both former baseball players themselves and, in their own way, are politically/baseball correct — Democrat Gavin Newsome of San Francisco throws left, Republican Tom Leppert of Dallas throws right.

Did you know that I don’t give a flying shit? Did you know that you aren’t any smarter for regurgitating the contents of a widely read newspaper to me? Did you know it’s STILL not safe to go outside in Russia? IS YOUR SKULL NOT ‘SPLODED BY MY PASSING OF VITAL INFORMATION?

I have heard people complain that the price of newspapers is going up

Unless you are a Shaker, there’s no possible way that last statement is true.

…or that newspaper websites, in starting to charge people for content (which is long overdue), are turning people away from the papers.

Oh noes! Where will I get my news now?

/turns on TV, logs onto Fark, checks phone simultaneously

Well, I guess paying $2 for the Times is prohibitive outside of New York City compared to recent days, when it could be had for less than a dollar.

Two dollars is a lot to spend on having Tom Friedman tell you you’re a fucking asshole.

But I paid $2.49 for a Zone bar in Logan Airport the other day

It didn’t do you any good, fella.

…and $2 for the newspaper. I was finished with the Zone bar in seven bites — maybe five minutes.

And it told me NOTHING of Presidential veganism.

I spent 75 minutes with the Times, then put the crossword in my bag (frustratingly) to work on it later in the week. Pretty good deal if you ask me.

And you punk kids smokin’ doobies don’t even realize it!

Thank you, United Airlines, for at least trying to make good airline coffee. The Starbucks United serves — had it again last Wednesday — is the best in the air.

Thank you, United, for making great coffee, which you do not in fact make yourself but purchase from a large scale supplier who in turn buys it from someone else who actually MAKES it. Job well done. And kudos to Amtrak for making these Red Baron personal pizzas. There’s a little bit of Italy in every bite!

I have not run into many (or any, maybe) companies with the public conscience of Harpoon Brewery in Boston.

THEY FACKIN’ CAY-AH!!!!

Thanks, Celtics, for allowing my buddy Pete Thamel and me to parachute into the Celts-Heat LeBron Bowl opener. Very generous of you.

And you didn’t have to throw in that free watch! Now I’m blushing!

Even got to meet my favorite player of my youth, Hondo Havlicek. That was fun. Except for me asking one too many stupid questions when trying to find out where some of the guys from that team were now. “Where’s Larry Siegfried?” I asked. Said Hondo: “He died two weeks ago.”

“And where’s Johnny Most? He had some great legs, that guy!”

And I know less about the NBA than I know about Norwegian politics.

That Finnish lady who looks like Conan O’Brien is so very hurt by you.

Come on, Charlie Sheen. Get a hold of yourself, man.

SHEEN: (looks at column) Oh, shit. King is onto me. YOU CAN COME OUT OF THE BASEMENT NOW, RUSSIAN WHORE I JUST BOUGHT!