KSK’s favorite nuggetologist, Peter King, fielded a question on Twitter today about whether he reads this site’s weekly takedown of his MMQB column. We already knew that PK has read it, because he used to e-mail Drew Magary to complain about how mean the site was being to him. When I ran into Peter at Super Bowl Media Day three years ago, he admitted he still read KSK before refusing to speak with me further. So, yeah, no surprises here.

What we didn’t know is that thanks to KSK, Peter King decided to get a life. AND WHAT A LIFE! No longer is he just a notorious jocksniffer, a Goodell sycophant, an ethically bankrupt journalist who accepts favors for sympathetic coverage and a man who once bragged about stealing a foul ball from a child at a baseball game, but he is also a man with a life. As a life-liver, we underrate Peter King.

I don’t particularly care whether Peter still reads KSK. Even if you consider our criticism of him constructive – I like to think in some cases it is, mostly it is just abusive remarks and inside jokes aimed at an awful writer and his love of coffee-flavored self-indulgence – it is clear that PK is far too obtuse and set in his ways to ever improve his horrible writing or questionable ethics now. PK has the air of someone who thinks that people who can’t namedrop Tony Dungy on a regular basis have anything better to do than obsess over MMQB.

It’s not that we don’t have anything better to do. We simply understand that there’s a market for pointed criticism of influential people who are paid exorbitant sums to be terrible at their job and contemptuous of their audience. To be perfectly honest, I loathe writing Fun With PK. I spend four to five hours every Monday shifting through Peter’s bloated, unreadable column in search of things to mock, not that there are ever a lack of them. There are any number of ways I would rather spend my time. It makes me dread Mondays even more than I normally would. But it’s a feature that I inherited when I took over as full-time editor of this site. Moreover, the feature brings comfort and laughter to people who just don’t want to see the biased and uninformed ramblings (and entitled bitchings) of a writer of undeserved stature go unanswered.


Peter King thinks his readers are idiots and his critics are losers. That’s actually understandable, insofar as the success of Peter King’s career is owed to the failure of journalism to live up to its ideals and to just how far kissing ass can get you in this world. It is only natural that someone who has benefited from those realities would hold in contempt people who expect insight, truth and humility from their media gatekeepers. If you’re not someone who needs to be fluffed in print, you’re nobody. At least nobody with a life.

So fuck you, Peter King. You and your lofty fucking life.