When we last left half-marathoner-to-be Peter King, he was lamenting the loss of Matt Moore’s moxie and bitching about his beloved Acela express.

So what’s on tap for this week? Will Peter awe us with Danny Woodhead’s college statistics? Will he update us on his training for the New Hampshire Half-Marathon? Should Papelbon be Boston’s closer next year? MAYBE. Read on.

SEATTLE — Leon Washington is the gift that keeps giving.

He’s like the Coffee of the Month Club from Seattle’s Best.

ATLANTA — Falcons pull off the upset at New Orleans, and I asked coach Mike Smith about what I figured must have been a raucous, hip-hip-hooray time in the locker room after the 27-24 overtime win.

If you close your eyes and imagine you can actually see Peter King swaying his head back and forth to the stylings of Naughty By Nature. He really can’t get enough of that 90′s station on his satellite radio.

PITTSBURGH — The quarterback America’s rooting for, Charlie Batch, gets his biggest win in years. The quarterback who will be the big story a week from today, Ben Roethlisberger, chops wood. Literally.

“Idle hands are the devils play thing. AND BEN’S MOST FAVORITE MOVIE. HARF HARF HARF!”

This week, [Vick will] face his mentor and local lightning rod, McNabb, in Philadelphia. Go figure how each man will be received when Washington takes the field.

He says that as if it’s somehow difficult to predict.

When I got [Leon] Washington on the phone Sunday night, I was just sitting down to eat dinner after our show at NBC.

“Great to hear from you, Leon, but I just sat down to eat.”

“You called me, Peter.”

Tony Dungy wanted a word with him.

Of course he did. That asshole has something to say to everybody.

“Remember what we talked about at the combine the year you came out?” Dungy asked.

Jesus?

Not to keep you hanging, but in tomorrow’s column, I’ll update you on what Roethlisberger’s been doing while suspended.

He already told us that he’s been chopping wood, but in tomorrow’s column he’ll identify that wood.

Spoiler alert: it’s oak.

MVP Watch

1. Michael Vick, QB, Philadelphia. Seriously.

2. Charlie Batch, QB, Pittsburgh. Sentimentally.

2. Peyton Manning, QB, Indianapolis. The hiccup at Houston was more the fault of a defense that got steamrollered by Arian Foster. Manning still makes everyone around him better.

Thank god it’s always somebody else’s fault when the Colts lose. And Peyton really does make everyone around him better. Except for when he forgets to make the offensive line better and they cost him a game he deserved to win.

The Fine Fifteen

1. Pittsburgh (3-0). OK, Charlie Batch. You knocked off the Bucs. Now you get the Ravens at the Ketchup Bottle Sunday. That’ll be a bit more of a challenge.

OK, Peter King. You successfuly identified the best team in the league through three games. Now you have to pick out the next fourteen without referencing a condiment. That’ll be a bit more of a challenge.

3. Atlanta (2-1). Beat the Super Bowl champs at the Super Bowl champs. Only loss is an overtime loss to the Steelers. Pretty good recipe for success.

But like most recipes, it could use a dash of Worcestershire sauce.

7. Indianapolis (2-1). You know how you always hear quarterbacks say it takes so long to mesh with new receivers and get good chemistry with them? Not Peyton Manning. He pulls undrafted Michigan State free-agent wideout Blair White up from the practice squad and the kid catches three balls for 27 yards, one for a touchdown, in his first game.

What, you didn’t know that Peyton Manning has full control of the team’s roster? You probably don’t have his phone number either.

10. Cincinnati (2-1). I remember the days when the Bengals played ugly all the time.

I don’t remember the days when they didn’t.

Offensive Players of the Week

Quick note about this category this week. I could name Vick, Sanchez (six TDs, no interceptions in the last two weeks), Kyle Orton and Philip Rivers very, very easily. I thought Rivers was huge in defeat, as was Orton. But I’m going with three other players who distinguished themselves over the weekend.

Thanks for explaining that other people also played well. Were it not for this note I would have never thought it possible.

Jeff Garcia, QB, Omaha Nighthawks. No, I’m not going to make the United Football League a regular part of The Award Section. But Garcia, 40, deserves some praise here for rallying Omaha to victory in the first game in its history, 27-26 over Hartford.

Gay Zorro lives!

He threw the winning touchdown pass to ex-Packer Robert Ferguson, a 12-yarder, with six seconds to go, in front of 23,067, a sellout, at Rosenblatt Stadium, the longtime home of the College World Series. “That’s the way to start a franchise,” coach Jeff Jagodzinski said.

Right before interviewing for a job with another franchise.

Lots of NFL folk in this game. Garcia (23-39, 226, three touchdowns, no picks) outdueled Josh McCown (22-25, 264, 2-0). Ricardo Colclough’s punt return and Ahman Green’s runs helped set up the winning score. Colclough, Nick Griesen, Stuart Schweigert and Cato June were among Omaha’s leading tacklers.

It’s a veritable who’s who of players I stopped thinking about years ago. Keep in mind, Peter could have named Mike Vick as one of his offensive players of the week (very, very easily, I’m told), but then he wouldn’t get to prattle on about the fucking UFL.

Special Teams Players of the Week

Kevin Huber, P, Cincinnati. Of the many great special-team performances Sunday, why pick a guy who averaged 38.2 yards per punt? Because Huber, a second-year punter from two miles away from Paul Brown Stadium — from the University of Cincinnati — dropped five of his six punts inside the 20, including two gems…That is the unseen story in so many games, the field-position the punter hands the offense.

Because, as you know, punts are typically taken during commercial breaks.

I bet I’ve heard Jones say “quite candidly” 300 times. He loves saying it.

“Quite candidly, I fucked a stewardess in the ass last night.”

Tweet of the Week

“Wow. From his Wikipedia page: ‘Kareem Michael McKenzie (born May 24, 1979) is literally human garbage for the New York Giants …’ ”
– NJ_StevePoliti, columnist Steve Politi of the Newark Star-Ledger, 63 minutes after the Giants lost to Tennessee, and McKenzie, the Giants’ right tackle, committed two personal-foul penalties for New York.

I checked.

That’s good research, Peter.

Politi’s spot on. There’s a Wikipedia sports terrorist out there.

The next thing you know they’ll be constructing a mosque adjacent to Eli Manning’s Wikipedia page.

In the last seven days, I’ve been on Southwest, AirTran, the Amtrak Acela (twice); I’ve been stranded in Baltimore for four hours, been in Houston, in Manhattan … and I have these five questions:

This has to be good. Let’s see if I can answer them.

1. Why does Southwest have different seat belts than every other airline?

Southwest flies the Boeing 737 exclusively. Other airlines fly this plane as well, but they typically fly a similar model from rival AirBus, or other Boeing models. For more information, check out Wikipedia. UNLESS THAT’S WHAT THE TERRORISTS WANT!

2. Why, when a child is crying that endless, bloodcurdling cry on an airplane, does a parent over and over say “Shhhhhh, shhhhhh,” instead of taking the baby out of the seat, putting the child over his/her shoulder and rubbing or gently patting the baby in the back — anything to change the dynamic or to try to coax a burp out of the poor kid?

Unlike you, Peter, babies cry for reasons other than gas.

3. Why could I find the New York Post, New York Times, New York Daily News, Washington Post, Wall Street Journal, USA Today and Investors Daily at the Hudson News outlet in the Baltimore-Washington International Airport … but not the hometown Baltimore Sun?

Because Hudson News is a national chain that sells popular national newspapers at airports across the country. Also because who the fuck reads the Baltimore Sun? If you’re desperate I’m sure there’s a vending machine somewhere. Pick up a copy of the Cumberland Times-News while you’re there.

4. Why, if a flight is scheduled to leave at 10:15 a.m. out of Atlanta-Hartsfield International Airport, and your plane backs away from the gate at 10:15 a.m. and gets out to the runway on a cloudless, windless day (last Thursday), and it isn’t the morning rush hour or the afternoon rush hour, does it then take 32 minutes to get up in the air? Atlanta’s infamous for this, in all weather.

It’s probably a mixture of incompetence and understaffing. You may not have heard, but there’s quite a shortage of air traffic controllers out there.

5. Why don’t more of us take the train, and why doesn’t Washington invest in the rails across the country to give more of the country, and not just the northeast corridor, the pleasure of the Acela, with speeds up to 150 mph between Boston and Washington?

A ONE-WAY ticket from Union Station (DC) to Penn Station (NYC) on the Acela leaving this Friday at 6 am costs $135, with a travel time of 2 hours and 46 minutes. A one-way ticket on the Bolt Bus leaving on the same day at 8 am (scheduled to arrive at noon) costs $21.

Maybe you meant to ask why more of us don’t simply expense the cost of our exorbitant train tickets.

Please go to our website, www.runpeterkingrun.com, for the story if you’ve missed it, and for a more important reason: to contribute to my causes for the race, Feed the Children and Wounded Warrior Project. I’d really like all of you to feel the pride of funding one semitrailer full of food and home supplies for 400 inner-city families somewhere in the United States … and it costs $7,500 per trailer to do that.

Oh, I’ll donate. Assuming you’re willing to run the whole thing in a pair of these bad boys.

At this point Peter starts regaling us with the story of how he got to go for a run with fellow Nutmeg Stater, and former Boston Marathon champ, Amby Burfoot. I’ll skip over that whole passage, save for this one little taste.

When we finished, I had a kick left for the last 300 or 400 yards, and I felt good about that. We got a coffee in the Starbucks at the Sheraton — the same hotel that houses the marathon runners every April — and now I was the running nerd, needing affirmation from one of the greatest American runners ever. I didn’t know how to ask it, so I just blurted it out:

“You look smooth, comfortable,” he said. “In eight miles, I never heard you breathe.

“I was supposed to breathe?!”

You’ve got a very economical stride. You don’t look like you’re working hard. You’re smooth. You’re an athlete.”

Oh, stop!

Peter King: Athlete

Ten Things I Think I Think

1. I think this is what I liked about Week 3:

c. What a run by Rashard Mendenhall, his spinning, pirouetting move against the Bucs.

I’m pretty sure a piroutte is nothing more than a gay spin.

k. The Saints’ decisiveness in bringing in some kickers this week for auditions. Can’t hold the seat forever without performing, Garrett Hartley, not after missing gimmes.

They haven’t made an actual decision yet. But they’re certainly thinking about it.

2. I think this is what I didn’t like about Week 3:

b. If you won’t trust your kicker, Dallas, and you certainly don’t when you won’t let David Buehler attempt a 46-yard field goal and instead go for it on fourth-and-two, then why didn’t you cut him last week and sign a trusted vet?

With all of these “trusted vets” out there waiting to be signed it makes you wonder how guys like Buehler and Hartley got their jobs to begin with. I guess when he says “trusted vets” he means “guys who have been previously deemed too ineffective to contribute.”

c. When Eli Manning looks at his ridiculous left-handed interception in the red zone in the film room today, he’ll puke.

Eli’s mom told him it’s more polite to call it “upchucking.”

e. First Drew Brees interception in 261 days and 242 attempts. Come to think of it, there’s a lot to like about that stat — and the fact that the Saints’ first turnover was in the ninth quarter of the season.

That’s good list makin’, Peter.

f. You’re staring down your targets, Jimmy Clausen.

10. I think these are my non-NFL thoughts of the week:

g. I’m not saying my wife and I went to a nice restaurant in New York the other night or anything, but when she put her purse on the floor by her chair, a server hustled over, picked up her purse and put it on a velvet footstool.

The menu was made of rubies!

i. Missed The Office the other night. I thought Michael was off the show. What’s the story? Does he have one more year?

Come on, that’s not even a thought. Here.

j. A big thanks to Liz Melby and the bartenders at the Harpoon Brewery in Boston for the runpeterkingrun.com fundraiser Thursday night. A more selfless, generous group of people you’ll never meet, and my media panel (Albert Breer, Ron Borges, Ian Rapoport) and I are grateful for the hospitality. And the Raspberry Hefeweizen, of course.

Of course.

Drew will be back next week, God willing.

When we last left Starwood Preferred traveler Peter King, he was being brilliantly satirized by that rapscallion Drew Magary. Well Drew’s on vacation now, so I’m all you’ve got. This week King actually talks about relevant football stuff, or more specifically, how a new rule will inhibit Peyton Manning. Oh, and there’s some stuff about Favre’s bone juice, but it’s not as sexy as you’d imagine.

Peyton Manning thinks back to the Patriots-Colts game last November — the Belichick No-Punt Game — and is sure that game would have ended differently if the new ump rule was in place.

’They’re stacking the deck against me, Peter! Please write all about this injustice. And if you have time, be sure to say something negative about my offensive line.’

“The way the new mechanic of the umpire positioning is, I don’t have a resolution to that,” said [vice president of officiating Carl] Johnson. “It’s going to take a couple extra seconds to spot the ball. There’s no way around that. But this is a work in progress. We’re aggressively seeking ways to improve the mechanics.”

We’re going to need more robot insurance.

Do the math.

I was told there would be no math.

An umpire traditionally is a stocky guy, to withstand the physicality of the position. Imagine if a team goes into the no-huddle and runs, say, seven straight plays of hurry-up, and the ump has to run in, spot the ball and then run back 12 to 15 yards. First of all, these big guys are going to be absolutely gassed. Secondly, they’re going to slow the game down.

That’s the kind of math I like, the kind without any “math.”

“I worry about the umpires’ conditioning,” said Indy GM Bill Polian…

If one of them dies in the middle of a two-minute drill Peyton’s gonna be PISSED.

The NFL has created one way of ump-positioning for 56 minutes and one way for the final two minutes of each half. In a way, the league is saying, We’re concerned about umpire safety, but we’re still going to allow 10 or 12 plays a game, on average, to be snapped with the umps in harm’s way.

It’s almost as if they’re trying to limit the ref’s exposure. Madness!

“It’s like you saying to your kids, ‘Don’t touch that!’ ” said Manning. “Then you say, ‘Well, you can touch it a couple of times.’ ”

Then he reenacted Al Pacino’s speech from the climactic scene of Devil’s Advocate, flawlessly.

On Sept. 10, two days before the first Sunday of the regular season, the league’s 17 umpires and 17 referees will meet in Dallas with Johnson to discuss the new system and whether there might be some little tweaks the rank-and-file can suggest to make it a cleaner adjustment.

I’m glad they’re going try to sort this out the day after the season starts.

Brett Favre: He’s already taking injections in his wounded ankle.

We’re running out of time for the competition committee to outlaw ankle tackles.

After his so-so eight series Saturday night on the hard floor of Mall of America Field (I prefer to call it the Metrodome, because that’s what we know it to be), Favre went into the trainers’ room in the Vikes’ locker room and got an injection of lubricant in the left ankle that has three times been operated on to remove loose bodies. “Like a grease fitting,” he said.

I prefer to call it a performance enhancing procedure, because that’s what we know it to be.

“They took out a cup full of stuff — bone and all these other loose bodies,” Brett Favre said Saturday night.

If you’re done with those bones Peter would love to grind them into his bread.

The Vikings will attempt to manage the pain the spur brings on, but Favre said he didn’t think he’d take any painkillers stronger than Motrin.

This is where Peter forgets to mention that Favre is a recovering drug addict. It must have slipped his mind.

“Now we’ll see if I can make it. My mind’s telling me one thing, but my body’s telling me something else.”

Does this mean Brett Favre pisses on girls. POSSIBLY.

Katrina at Age 5: Maybe Mickey Loomis should be executive of the decade.

Peter didn’t watch If God Is Willing and Da Creek Don’t Rise, but he’s pretty sure he got the gist of it.

I’m exaggerating a bit there.

Good, because it comes off as pretty callous when you imply that the most important thing you took from the aftermath of Katrina was an appreciation for Mickey Loomis’s acumen as an NFL executive.

The Saints certainly weren’t the dominant force of Indianapolis or New England in the past 10 years. Not even close.

You had me worried for a second!

But if the Pittsburgh Pirates beat the Yankees in the World Series next year, wouldn’t you give them three times the credit of any other team for winning such a series?

I’m going to set aside any jokes here and just say that that is the dumbest fucking comparison I’ve ever heard. The NFL is a league built on parity. Some team goes from worst to first almost every year. Stop invoking baseball to make your asinine points.

A lot of people have contributed to the recovery of the city, and the Saints have been vital. I am in no way attempting to ascribe too much importance to sports.

But if Mickey Loomis hadn’t signed Drew Brees the city would be under water right now.

Antonio Bryant: What a stupid signing.

Fair enough.

One NFL medical person — don’t want to be too specific — told me Sunday that the injury that is apparently plaguing fired Cincinnati wideout Antonio Bryant could be Chondral Defect of the knee. “If you’re not looking for it, you won’t find it,” this official said.

Sounds mysterious!

I’m stunned the Bengals passed Bryant on his physical, then handed him $7.85 million in guarantees. Stunned.

He is stunned that the Bengals could miss a rare injury that is almost impossible to find that he may not even have. Stunned.

Adalius Thomas: “I’m definitely not done. I definitely want to play.”

Since I’d lost my phone in May, there went Thomas’ number somewhere at the bottom of the Potomac (or somewhere in D.C.), and it wasn’t ’til Saturday afternoon that I heard from him.

/strokes Peter King’s phone
//listens to saved voicemails from Brett Favre

Stafon Johnson: “God don’t put nothin’ on my plate I can’t eat.”

Peter has that inscribed on his favorite throw pillow. Also, Stafon Johnson has never been served a plate of questionable tripe. That shit does not go down easy.

“But I looked down and my knee was facing coach Fish, and my foot toward the pylon.”

And now nobody can eat what God put on their plate.

“It’s Ho-OH-ma-NOW-uh-noo-ee.”

– St. Louis rookie tight end Michael Hoomanawanui, explaining to me the correct pronunciation of his last name in the locker room Thursday night.

Isn’t that the guy from The Dirty?

“Stylez is my Allen Iverson … We’re going to tolerate him ’til we can replace him.”
– Tampa Bay coach Raheem Morris, on his tough-to-coach defensive end with the manufactured name, Stylez G. White.

Way to play things close to the vest, Raheem.

“Let him open up his friggin’ pizza shop in the Bronx and leave me alone.”
– Jets special teams coach Mike Westhoff, on the HBO show Wednesday night, on oft-injured special-teamer Brashton Satele.

In other words: I can’t trust this guy to stay healthy or to play competently, so please, Mike Tannenbaum, get him out of my sight.

In other words: I’m pretty sure that guy makes a mean ham and pineapple pie.

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me

[briefly passes out while reading stories about odd trades of the 1950’s]

Mr. Starwood Preferred Travel Note of the Week
On a Delta flight from Boston to Minneapolis on Saturday morning, I was sitting on the aisle in coach, my legs snug against the seatback, with an empty seat next to me as the plane filled up.

Coach? But you’re a Starwood Perferred traveler. Somebody upgrade this man!

A young man, maybe 25, walked down the aisle, looked at his ticket, looked at the empty seat next to me and…

…rolled his eyes as if to say, “Just my fucking luck.”

wordlessly, began lifting his leg over my two thighs.

‘Free lap dances in coach? Well played, Delta.’

2. I think the best note from a practice session I’ve seen this summer came from Kent Somers of the Arizona Republic (don’t mean to put him in every MMQB, but the guy’s good), monitoring the combined Cards-Titans practice on Wednesday in Nashville. Before a snap when the Cards’ offense stepped to the line of scrimmage, Somers heard a Titans defender say to a teammate: “I got a buffalo nickel that says he checks down.” In footballese, that translates to: Matt Leinart will always take the easy way out instead of trying to make a play.

To be fair, most things in “footballese” translate to “Matt Leinart is fucking pussy.”

3. I think the Leinart yanking shows Ken Whisenhunt didn’t trust Leinart in 2007, and he doesn’t trust him now.

Usually a “Leinart yanking” shows that Matt came home from the bar alone.

Suh, Schwartz said, “makes some plays in the interior line that Albert Haynesworth would make in his fifth year.”

Soon he’ll be refusing to practice with the best of ’em!

d. Coffeenerdness: I’ve got to hand it to Caribou Coffee in the Minneapolis airport on Sunday morning at 5:45. You guys make one heck an oatmeal at that hour. Good little latte too. Got me started pretty well on a jammed-up day.

Nobody boils water and combines it with foodstuffs like those intrepid souls.

e. The question is no longer whether John Lackey’s worth $16 million a year. It’s whether he’s worth $1.6.

FACE!

i. Sorry for the delay in getting the half-marathon fundraising information to you this week. We had some internal issues at SI that I will take care of this week, and I expect to have a webpage up next Monday with all the information you’ll need to participate.

“Internal issues” is footballese for “intestinal blockage.”

j. Good luck at Oberlin, Emma Goldstein. You too at Marquette, Tess Quinlan. And Tess, how long did it take you to know 64 other frosh? Fifteen minutes?

And so concludes another one of Peter’s columns about sociable college freshmen, and the occasional bit of football minutia.

Drew will be back next week.

When we last left winter weather worrier Mike Florio, his concerns were being countered by our own Mr. Ufford. Now Florio has taken to one of his other homes at the Sporting News to hop up on his soapbox (and a couple of phone books) to expound in long form.

What ridiculous new arguments will he present? Which mid-nineties sitcom will he look to for inspiration? How much does one have to spend for a decent pair of long underwear? Will anyone stop to think of the chilly children? Read on and find out.

NFL takes unacceptable risk with New York Super Bowl

Right off the bat you know that this column is either about terrorism, the weather, or it’s a drawn out excuse to make a George Costanza risk management joke.

When I first heard the NFL was seriously considering staging an open-air Super Bowl in a cold-weather city, I was intrigued.

Well at least it’s not about terrorism.

After further deliberation, the NFL’s decision to hold a Super Bowl in a cold-weather climate with a stadium that has no lid makes us wonder whether plenty of people have lost their marbles.

Fear not, my marbles are safe inside their container. Their lidded container.

The Super Bowl is the single greatest day on the American sports calendar.

For page views.

It needs to be protected from circumstances that can make the experience something other than super.

Like terrorism?

Any of you who have ever stood for three-plus hours in single-digit temperatures for an NFL game know exactly what I’m talking about.

God, I wish we were talking about terrorism.

Folks familiar with going to outdoor games in cold-weather cities understand how to properly prepare for multiple hours in the hostile elements.

NO ONE DENIES THIS!

But what about the sandal-wearers from California whose idea of a winter coat is a windbreaker with a hood?

Hey brah, the name’s Brody Strawman.

When it’s time for them to pay for tickets that with a face value in the vicinity of $2,000, will they realize that they’ll also need to spend roughly that much more on coats, boots, long underwear, gloves, hats, scarves, hand warmers, and foot warmers?

Holy Bleacher Report! Let’s go to the bullet points…

• Warm clothes don’t have to cost that much money.
• A lot of Californians already own coats.
• You’ll need most of that crap to attend a game in Minnesota or Detroit.
• You know what costs more than clothes? Airfare and a hotel room in New York during Super Bowl week.
• The lead argument in a column decrying the NFL’s decision is about these things.

The message to the customers who’ll be likely paying record-high prices? As the late Peter Boyle playing New York resident Frank Barone would say, “Suck it up, Nancy.”

But at least it was backed up with an Everybody Loves Raymond reference.

Maybe the NFL is hoping to make it “cool” to go to games in bitterly cold weather.

Should Super Bowls only be played in controlled environments?
Would awarding the Super Bowl to Seattle be ‘alt’?
Is Florio also Carles?

But maybe the NFL wants to show it can navigate a nightmare. Imagine the hand-wringing over whether the league can get a concert-quality stage in place for the halftime show, if the snow is falling at a rate of one inch every 10 minutes.

I was told there would be no word problems.

If the NFL can make it look easy even when the conditions are difficult, the league will look even better.

They’re trying to push their limits. Like daredevils!

On a brighter note, there should be no worries about any wardrobe malfunctions.

Remember that night in Houston? Justin Timberlake was wearing a jacket when he tore the tit lid off of Janet Jackson’s long sleeve top.

Look, I love New York.

Based on what he’s seen on Seinfeld and Raymond.

And I love the Super Bowl.

As long as he doesn’t have to wear a hat. They make him look so silly.

But New York and the Super Bowl don’t necessarily mix like peanut butter and chocolate.

Did you know that Kitkat makes a chunky peanut butter version that’s only available in the UK and Australia? That’s BULLSHIT!

If the fans have to suffer through the misery of a cold, windy day at Meadowlands Stadium in February 2014, it’ll be more like a greasy pork sandwich served in a dirty ashtray.

Which, coincidentally, was the house specialty at the old Giants Stadium.

When we last left Peter King he was extolling the virtues of The Blind Bean, and now he’s back to throw a bunch of crap at the wall. Not because he wants to, mind you. No, the life of SI’s second most prolific mock drafter is not an easy one, but somebody has to do it.

Well actually that’s not true. As a matter of fact the whole thing is an exercise in futility. And nobody knows that better than our other friend, Bill Simmons. The Sports Guy finally broke down and officially relinquished his title as the only sportswriter/blogger to never write a mock draft. HE IS AS UNIQUE AS A SNOWFLAKE, NO ONE DENIES THIS!

But let’s set that little bit of nonsense aside and return our focus to Mr. King…

One of the reasons Gil Brandt, the godfather of the NFL Draft, thinks this one will have more “I’m shocked” moments is because of the pre-draft smokescreens by the teams picking high this year. Washington GM Bruce Allen and coach Mike Shanahan have always been pros at disguising their draft intentions.

Actually, when the Redskins are involved it’s called a smoke signal.

Scott Pioli, in his second draft in Kansas City, has his front office locked down.

Meanwhile in Seattle, Pete Carroll is pretending to leak information about his team’s draft plans by linking to the music video for Kanye West’s “Love Lockdown” on Bing.

The Seahawks, Bills and Jags have muzzles on too.

They wouldn’t stop nipping at the heels of other teams.

Allen and Mike Shanahan have said they might take a quarterback at number four.

They also told Peter that his pants make his ass look like a heart.

Well, they might.

And Ben Roethlisberger might show up and smack Roger Goodell across the face with his cock, leaving an ashy trail in its wake. I’m not saying it WILL happen, but it MIGHT happen, so it’s worth mentioning.

1. St. Louis
Sam Bradford, QB, Oklahoma

Rams need a face of the franchise — and an accurate deep arm. Bradford’s both.

Maybe he’s born with it. Maybe it’s Maybelline. Maybe his arm won’t fall off.

4. Washington
Trent Williams, T, Oklahoma

Got a sick feeling Shanahan wants to deal down, pick a QB. Crazy, but that’s him.

Can you be more specific? A sick feeling can mean anything. Is it like the time you ate that thing you thought was a fig or is it like the time you scraped off the mold before finishing the sweet cream cheese hidden underneath?

5. Kansas City
Bryan Bulaga, T, Iowa

Sinking on most boards, but GM Pioli sees meat-and-potatoes left tackle for a decade.

Meat and potatoes is to offensive linemen as deceptive speed is to wide receivers. The first analyst to use the phrase “lunch pail” after Bulaga comes off the board wins the draft.

7. Cleveland
Eric Berry, S, Tennessee

But if Williams or Okung’s around, this will be a very tough call for GM Tom Heckert.

The fuck it will.

11.* Giants (from Den.)
Rolando McClain, LB, Alabama

TRADE: G-men desperate to get long-term middle linebacker. Figure they can’t wait until 15th pick.

Good speculative trade. Lofty speculative trade.

I actually like this pick quite a bit. I have McClain listed at number four on my big board. That’s a lie. I don’t even have a big board. I’m a total fraud.

13. San Francisco
Joe Haden, CB, Florida

Lucky Niner night, getting the best corner in the draft in the middle of the first round.

The Lucky Niner is also the name of the strip club where Peter cut his teeth as a young dancer under the pseudonym Lance Desire.

I don’t really understand what’s lucky about this pick. Yes, they’d get the best corner in the draft, but it’s not as if Haden is a projected top five pick who is going to slide into their lap like Lance with a crisp 20 in his man thong.

14. Seattle
Jimmy Clausen, QB, Notre Dame

It doesn’t fit after Charlie Whitehurst deal, but ‘Hawks think he’s a top-5 player in draft.

What doesn’t fit? Whitehurst and Hasselbeck are expected to compete for the starting job, which leaves Clausen as the third stringer. Sounds like a perfect fit to me. Unless the team is trying to improve, of course.

15.* Denver
Brandon Graham, OLB, Michigan

Broncos would be happy with Kyle Wilson, Dez Bryant or Maurkice Pouncey here.

Translation: No. Fucking. Clue. Hey, they could take an outside linebacker, but they could just as easily take a cornerback, a wide receiver, a center, or a point guard.

18. Pittsburgh
Maurkice Pouncey, C, Florida

The Pouncey fan club is growing. Six mid-first-round teams could take him by early 20s.

No rush, there’s another one coming out in next year’s draft.

22. New England
Dez Bryant, WR, Oklahoma State

“Coach Belichick? Dez Bryant’s babysitter on line two.” I don’t care. I love the pick.

Bryant’s babysitter? The man has a name, Peter. And that name is Deion Sanders.

23. Green Bay
Sergio Kindle, OLB, Texas

Bookend for Clay Matthews had 34.5 tackles for loss his last two years at Texas.

The iPad may be flashier, but remember, after a while that backlit screen can take a toll on your eyes. RESPECT THE LIGHT EMITTING DIODES BEFORE IT’S TOO LATE.

24.^ Miami
Ryan Mathews, RB, Fresno State

I know Dolphins love Mathews and would settle for him … but like others here too.

They love him enough to settle for him… MAYBE.

25. Baltimore
DeMaryius Thomas, WR, Georgia Tech

Anquan Boldin. Donte’ Stallworth. Thomas. Talk about rebuilding the weakest point of a playoff team.

Mel Kiper, Don Banks, and Charles Davis agree with King. Talk about being in good company.

27. Dallas
Taylor Mays, S, USC

I say they rue the day they don’t take tackle of the future, but Dallas likes speedy safety.

Everyone knows that the tackle of the future is still under development at the Tyrell Corporation. One day the Voight-Kampff test will be given alongside the Wonderlic the NFL Combine, and that will be a day worth ruing.

28. San Diego
Jared Odrick, DT, Penn State

Ideal draft for Chargers is Dan Williams in first, Stanford RB Toby Gerhart down the line.

Waaaay down the line.

29. New York Jets
Jahvid Best, RB, Cal

This pick makes no sense — unless you think Leon Washington and LaDainian Tomlinson are short-timers.

Or unless you think Shonn Greene is dying of cancer.

30. Minnesota
Tim Tebow, QB, Florida

A hunch. Nothing more. Brett Favre lasts another year (two at the outside) while Tebow grows.

But exactly how will Tebow grow? Could he grow wings and literally fly into the endzone while defenders are left to gawk at his resplendent plumage?

Let’s call it a hunch. Nothing more.

Note: Drew is unavailable today, so I’ll be tackling PK duties this week.

When we last left wistful reader Peter King, he was extolling the virtues of Brookline Booksmith, despite his fondness for the Kindle. So what about this week? Will Peter be satisfied with his stay at the Doral Resort and Spa? Will he be disappointed by South Florida’s lackluster support of their hometown hockey team? Read on.

It’s right, it’s fair, it’s just, it’s good, it’s shocking. You were not dreaming…

It’s the special release of Uzuri African Blend from Peet’s!

As the fifth team bus — the one with mostly family and friends of the team — sped from the stadium to the Intercontinental Hotel in downtown Miami for the most raucous of postgame parties, this merry band of Saints partisans sang and chanted and Who-Datted to their heart’s content.

These fans lead the league in Who-Dattedness

“Oh when the Saints … come marching in …”

Uh…those aren’t the lyrics.

It got quiet for a minute, and Carville piped up loudly: “I still can’t believe we won the Super Bowl!”

He’s normally so reserved!

In the middle of the rolling party, someone else piped up: “Can you believe we called that onside kick?”

No, it caught everyone totally off-guard.

Oh, I can.

Because you’re a liar.

It had Sean Payton written all over it.

Just like Peter’s composition book.

“Ambush,” Payton said cavalierly, almost diffidently…

It’s funny because those words are basically antonyms.

In this case, Ambush was so mind-blowing because:

a. Morstead never attempted an onside kick in a game before Sunday night in his life.

Really?

b. Morstead never practiced onside-kicking until 12 days ago.

Isn’t that what training camp is for?

c. Morstead can be a bundle of nerves.

But none of this stopped Peter from seeing it coming.

Payton knows how lethal Peyton Manning is, and he knew he ran the risk of giving the Colts 30 extra yards if the onside kick failed, but he knew it wouldn’t fail.

Because Peter told him so.

He put his trust in the hands of a kicker, Morstead, kicking the first onside kick of his life, and in a special-teamer, third-year safety Chris Reis, perhaps the most anonymous of the 45 Saints who dressed Sunday. Morstead because he was the kicker, Reis because he was the feistiest of his kick-chasers

He has the guts of a catburglar.

and would scratch and claw for the ball if he had to.

And the mentality of an actual cat.

The ball at first lay underneath Reis’ legs as bodies flew in trying to get it. “I was able to get the ball into my hands and just cradle it here,” Reis demonstrated for me later in the locker room, with his hands cradled around his stomach, slightly bent over.

Quasi-Madonnaish.

“White ball!” Reis heard one official yell in the mayhem. The Saints were wearing white. Good.

Saints. White. Good. Okay, I think I get it.

“Blue ball! Blue ball!” he heard another official yell. The Colts were blue. Bad.

If you say so. This is all very confusing.

“The Colts were punching at it and grabbing for it, trying to get it out. But I didn’t care if they broke all my fingers.”

Peter felt the same way when he snagged the last Kit Kat bar in the press box.

“I can’t believe it,” said Morstead, a rookie from SMU. He’s a tall kid, wiry and athletic and thoughtful.

He’s all sinew and brain.

What happened, fella, is you and Chris Reis just made a play that was the biggest one in preventing Peyton Manning from winning his second Super Bowl…

Because it’s always about Peyton.

…and sent your city into orbit.

Oh yeah, that too.

I thought Indianapolis lost this game as much as the Saints won it.

Who dat say dey gonna let the Saints win?

GM Bill Polian told me outside the stadium after the game you can’t blame Garcon because he got “jacked” at the line of scrimmage.

And you told him that’s some bullshit, right?

Maybe…

No. No maybe, that’s bullshit.

…but I watched the replay a couple of times early this morning, and he was well away from the jacking when the Manning pass clanked off his hands.

Thank you. And thank you for typing “the jacking.”

I hated the decision by the Colts, on third-and-one in the final minute of the first half with two timeouts left by the Saints, to run into the middle of the line.

It’s not like they were running into the teeth of the ’85 Bears.

Manning’s got 10 conversion throws that he can get one yard with in his saddlebag, and the call is Mike Hart burrowing between a couple of sub-300-pound blockers — Jeff Saturday and Ryan Lilja. Hart got stoned for nothing.

Nobody gets stoned for nothing. Oh, you mean he got stopped. Yeah, that happened. You know, they probably should have thrown the ball there! Sorry, I too got stoned. And it wasn’t for nothing. It was to make this column tolerable.

I don’t like how they would have left themselves 89 yards to go in 45 seconds with one timeout to get a touchdown.

As opposed to calling one of Peyton’s “10 conversion throws that he can get one yard with,” that would have left them with 89 yards to go in 45 seconds.

I know the logic is, Make sure you don’t give the other team a possession before the end of the half. Run the clock. Well, they didn’t convert. And the Saints got a possession. And the Saints scored.

Your logic is no match for my hindsight.

Third: the onside kick. Not to beat a dead Colt, but you simply can’t make that mistake in a game of this magnitude.

The mistake was letting Hank Baskett on the field.

Drew Brees was brilliant. He had a true MVP performance.

But the Colts lost the MVP just as much as Brees won it.

This game puts him in a league with Manning and Tom Brady at the top of the league’s quarterback pecking order. It’s a trifecta now, not a daily double.

A trifecta is when you correctly pick the first three finishers of a race, in order. A daily double is when you pick the winning horse in two different races. I believe the term your looking for is a “three-horse race.” But let’s not let that get in the way of you saying what everyone else has been saying all year.

Now for the Hall of Fame section.

I decided to vote for a player I had previously denied because another voter whom I know and respect said, ‘C’mon.’ Good enough for me.

Sharpe’s a mystery to me too…

Is he eligible for the trifecta?

A mystery, except that so many of these guys are good. I fear it’s so difficult to compute these crazy numbers that wideouts and tight ends are putting up.

Sharpe had 813 career receptions. 813! We need the guy from NUMB3RS to tell us what that means. And none of that scientific mumbo-jumbo, give us an everyday analogy that anyone watching CBS on a Friday night can understand.

I did not support the Denver running back because I felt his numbers and impact were shy…

And he never returns my texts.

I called Little Saturday night…

Good phone call. Lofty phone call. But a Hall of Fame phone call? Sorry, not for me.

Quote of the Week II

“Not bad for number 24.”
– Sean Payton to me, before taking the podium to do his postgame press conference.

In the offseason, I ranked the 32 teams from top to bottom, and I ranked the Saints 24th on my list.

Wait a minute. Coaches actually read this crap?

“I think Russ is the greatest guard to ever play pro football,” Starke said after Grimm went in to the Hall of Fame. I disagree, but as I said earlier in this column, Grimm’s the guy I’m happiest for after this year’s balloting.

You never said that.

1. New Orleans (16-3). At 10:05 p.m., soon after the Saints won the Super Bowl (can’t believe I just wrote that), my friend Josh Norman, who lives in New Orleans, texted me thusly: “Utter delirium in New Orleans right now.” At 10:28 came this: “I’ve been all over the world and I’ve never seen a celebration as epic as this. This is beyond words. The earth is vibrating.”

It’s an earthquake. SOMEBODY SAVE THE NORMANS!

2. Indianapolis (16-3). I know everyone’s concentrating on the Colts not being able to convert third-and-one late in the first half, gifting the Saints with three points before halftime, and for allowing New Orleans to recover an onside kick. But for my money, the Pierre Garcon drop midway during the second quarter was just as big.

Also big: The second half.

3. Minnesota (13-5). So if Brett Favre does retire, who’s next? McNabb? Vick? Pennington? The one name I never hear for the starting 2010 QB job in the Twice Cities is an interesting one: Tarvaris Jackson.

That’s because it’s not interesting.

4. New York Jets (11-8). I’ll bet you a lot of money Rex Ryan gave his middle-finger apology through gritted teeth and hated every word of his statement.

And I’ll bet you a lot of money that Rex Ryan thinks Peter King is a twat.

9. Baltimore (10-8). If I’m the Ravens, I pounce on Donte’ Stallworth with a totally incentive-laden contract. It’s just what they need…

Another player who settled out of court with a dead guy’s family.

10. Philadelphia (11-6). Breakout Eagle of 2010: LeSean McCoy.

Breakout movie of 2010: Avatar.

14. Cincinnati (10-7). Terrell Owens in stripes will happen the day I run an ultra-marathon.

He said run, not walk.

But more than that, he’s a great football player, with no weaknesses. Scouts now have to look twice at 6-foot quarterbacks who are very smart. I know I’d have my eyes open.

Somebody get Eric Crouch on the phone, we might have been wrong about him all along!

Really though, Brees was the first pick of the second round. It’s not like he was written off as a shrimp who could never compete in the NFL.

Late in the third quarter, Hartley was an MVP candidate, with 46-, 44- and 47-yard field goals, the first time in Super Bowl history a kicker has had three field goals outside the 40-yard line. Not bad for a second-year guy who played college ball at Oklahoma.

He says that like Oklahoma is some obscure Division II outpost.

There are many things in the world I do not understand…

What’s with everyone driving everywhere? Surely they’ve discovered the unbridled joy of walking.

Why is there a hockey team adjacent to a shopping mall in the middle of Luxuryville, Fla.? Rick Gosselin and I went to the Panthers-Flames Friday night…

Surely they could have built it closer to Shantytown.

(yes, we are hockey loons)

I was told there would be icing.

Everyone over at Sports Illustrated is crafting their own sports bucket list, and their preeminent Buckethead Peter King delivers about what you’d expect. His complete list can be found here, continue after the jump for some highlights.

1. Short-season Rookie League games

That’s like, baseball, right? We’re off to a blazing start.

Not sure where, but in places like Billings, Mont., and Casper, Wyo., with the sun setting over the left-field fence, with purple mountains majesty above thy fruited plain. Preferably with a local micro brew in my right hand.

If Casper, Wyoming is known for two things its the Casper Ghosts rookie league team and delicious craft beer. Actually Peter does bear a striking resemblance to Tim Ray, the Ghosts’ Adventure Guide.

2. Texas-Oklahoma (when both are ranked in the top five)

Fine.

3. Manchester City at Manchester United

Of all the soccer matches in the world he picks the Manchester Derby, England’s approximate equivalent of Jets-Giants.

I saw City play this spring, and the energy level for a match against Blackburn was splendid.

So Robinho wasn’t playing?

I can only imagine what the locals do when they’re playing the other locals. This time I’ll dress better. I bet there were 5,000 men with coats and ties at the Manchester City grounds.

Jack Del Rio would love it here! Unfortunately the scene was marred by another 42,000 fans wearing jerseys, singing Blue Moon, and carrying on like ruffians.

5. Pittsburgh Steelers intrasquad scrimmage/practice

Get the fuck outta here.

The players take yellow school buses to the site…

Even the elite flyers?

…and sign autographs ’til the cows come home.

Good cows. Keystone cows.

Only in western Pennsylvania, folks.

Literally. THERE IS NO OTHER PLACE ON EARTH WHERE THIS HAPPENS.

My favorite:

Amateur: The 14-inning, 3-2 Montclair (N.J.) softball victory over rival Cedar Grove in the Essex County Tournament quarterfinals in 2003. Southpaw Mary Beth King threw all 187 pitches for winning Montclair — and scored after tripling in the bottom of the 14th to win it.

Huh. I wonder what ever became of her.

SI: Peter King’s Bucket List

Yes, yes, yes: we know.  Peter King’s Monday Morning Quarterback appeared on SI.com yesterday, and there was no immediate dissection from Big Daddy Drew.  You had to wait nearly a full revolution rotation of the Earth to get this column (that’s like a week in Internet time!), and it’s from one of those non-Drew, non-Ape KSK writers you barely tolerate.  Well, sorry.  Drew’s having some elective surgery and won’t be around this week.  Welcome to life; get used to disappointment.

But on to more pressing matters: Peter King is touring NFL training camps!  What invaluable insights does he deliver this week?  Are the NFL mess halls up to snuff?  Did he find time to visit Toone P. Wiggins?  Will there be time for him to talk about the Red Sox?  Is he surprised by August weather being so hot?  Won’t someone think of the Kit Kats!

We are ready for some football. Great to see it back Sunday night, with Vince Young beginning what he hopes is his resurrection (now, if he’d only quit talking about it) in the Hall of Fame game against Buffalo.

Great lede.  Way to mail it in before the game — no one who saw VY’s pop fly of an interception would begin a column with that statement.

Offseason text message from Mario Manningham to Eli Manning: “When can we get together? Want to work on the ins and outs of this offense.”

Looking for one reason Manningham just might be the guy the Giants have been looking for at wide receiver? It’s the change in this kid.

That’s right: Manningham went gay.  Hence the thinly veiled double entendre to Eli.

And though Manning says he expects the Giants to be receiver-by-committee this year, I say Manningham is going to get every chance to be the bookend to Steve Smith at some point. That’s how good Manningham’s offseason was.

Really?  Manningham has a chance to play opposite the same Steve Smith who accrued 574 receiving yards and a single touchdown in 16 games last year?  WOW!  Bold statements, Mr. King.

9:45 a.m., Wednesday (Chiefs camp, River Falls, Wisc.): You’re not going to believe this.

STARBUCKS HAS COFFEE ICE CREAM!?!?!?

11:45 a.m., Thursday (Minnesota Vikings camp, Mankato, Minn.): I came here expecting to see the fastest man in the NFL, Percy Harvin, ripping up Vikings camp. And I did see an incredibly gifted player, Harvin, getting coached very hard because the Vikings want him ready to play a big role on opening day 2009, not opening day 2010. But after seeing Adrian Peterson sprint around left end on an early-practice reverse like he’d just taken the baton in the Olympic 400-meter relay, I didn’t know who was faster. Especially on the fast track of the Metrodome, I have no idea how teams are going to defend the Vikings when Peterson and Harvin are on the field together.

By tackling the shitty quarterback?

I expect Harvin to have the opportunity to be the Offensive Rookie of the Year. He’s too talented, and he has Peterson to take the pressure off him. And vice versa.

Harvin ALREADY has the opportunity to be the Offensive ROY.  He’s a rookie and he plays offense.   It’s this sort of mayonnaise-flavored non-analytical non-prediction that ruins the actual reporting that King occasionally does.  Sack up and make a prediction, you silver-forelocked fart locker.

The troubled Harvin, obviously, got investigated thoroughly before he was drafted out of the University of Florida in April. When Brad Childress went to Gainesville the week before the draft to meet Harvin and spend a day with him, he said he wanted Harvin to pick him up and drive him around. “I wanted to be in his car, and I wanted to smell the car,” Childress said. You know, for the pot smell.

And any lingering scent of undergraduate pussy.

1:45 p.m. Friday (Hall of Fame preliminaries, Canton, Ohio): I’m in town for one of the greatest honors of my life. Heck, the greatest professional honor — the McCann Award, which is presented annually by the Hall of Fame to a writer for long and distinguished

Like my johnson.

reporting on the game. So the tireless Pete Fierle of the Hall’s staff has set up a behind-the-scenes tour of the Hall for us with one of the Hall’s archivists, Jason Aikens.

Of the Akron Aikens?!?!?

It’s Nirvana. I held Johnny Unitas’ 1956 contract in my hands (he made $7,000 for the Colts before he was somebody, and his handwriting was exquisite).

That Unitas had a signature you could set your watch to!  And John Elway?  His block letters define clutch.

Hanging from one of the shelves is Pat Tillman’s garment bag (Samsonite, I believe).

It was the bravest piece of luggage King’s ever seen.

Aikens opens up one drawer and pulls out a game program from 1946, from Paul Brown’s first professional game — the Cleveland Browns against the Miami Seahawks, an All-America Football Conference game. Leather helmets.

Leather helmets?!? In the Professional Football Hall of Fame? GET OUT!!!!

6:45 p.m., Friday (Canton): The commissioner of the NFL should be on injured-reserve. He’s not sure how it happened, but while climbing Mount Rainier to raise money for the United Way a month ago, Roger Goodell dislocated a rib. It might have happened just from the intense breathing because of the scarcity of oxygen that high above sea level.

Similar to the breathing PK experiences when he climbs the 67 stairs to his apartment, or when he gets a voicemail from Favre.

8:30 p.m., Friday (Canton): Did you know that when you look out at a crowd of 4,000 people you really can’t see much of anything? Something about the lights in your eyes. Anyway, the folks at the Hall told me three minutes for my speech at first, then asked if I could do it in two. Of course, I took more than six.

Of course. “I’m a long-winded selfish fuck who can’t pick up on social cues that people don’t want to hear me blather on and on.  Ha ha ha!  Isn’t life grand?”

The best thing I hear all night: Berman saying Ralph Wilson never voted for one single franchise transfer in his 40 years as an NFL owner. Beautiful. Reminds me of a conversation I had with Wilson last year. “I will not move this team,” he said. “I cannot move this team. What would the people of Buffalo do without the Bills?”

Oh, I don’t know — travel to Toronto for Bills home games?  Thankfully, that will never happen while Ralph Wilson lives.

I’ve often said this is a trip real football fans have to make at least once, even if you don’t get the thrill of nosing around the archives.

“Even if you plebes don’t get the majestic splendor of preferential treatment that is warranted by someone of my professional stature, you can still attain a semblance of pleasure here.”

4:05 p.m. Sunday (Browns Family Day, Cleveland, Ohio): If autograph-signing won quarterback jobs, Brady Quinn would be a Hall of Famer. Now. For 65 minutes, he signed for the crowd of 14,000 attending the Brown-White Scrimmage at Cleveland Browns Stadium.

BUT DID HE HAVE UNITAS’S PENMANSHIP?!?!? Don’t leave out details, King!

The Browns, however, were the first team I’ve been around this summer that I just didn’t get a good vibe from. The players are still feeling out Eric Mangini, and more than a few think he’s working them too hard. Well, the Browns were 4-12 last year, fired the coach and GM, and need a new sheriff. That’s what Mangini is trying to be.

What?  A professional football coach from the Belichick tree being tough on his players?  This is unheard of!

Quote of the Week II
“You’ll find out during the season.”
–San Francisco defensive coordinator Greg Manusky, on his defensive philosophy.

It was a slow week.

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me II

I learned exclusively Sunday that Eric Mangini had the stomach flu on the day he interviewed with Cleveland owner Randy Lerner for the Browns’ coaching job last November. He felt queasy on the drive to Lerner’s Long Island home, and had to have his driver and brother-in-law pull over a couple of blocks from the house so he could throw up, twice. During a break in the meeting, Mangini used the bathroom and threw up a third time. And during the second half of the meeting, he asked Lerner to hold that thought … while he threw up a fourth time.

That’s what I call playing hurt.

That’s what I call interviewing sick.

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me III

Have you ever shaken hands with Adrian Peterson?

No.

I don’t recommend it.

Here’s what Peterson does: He is the aggressor when a hand is offered, digging his palm deep into yours and squeezing hard. I’d shaken his hand four times before last Thursday,

“How many times have you shaken his hand again?  Zero?  Only four more times and you’ll start catching up with me.”

and now I was going to have a plan for it. Before he got the chance to dig his palm deep into mine, I was going to dig mine into his, because I figured if he didn’t know what was coming, I’d have the edge.

This wouldn’t be easy, as Peter is a natural bottom.

He walked toward me after Vikings’ practice Thursday morning and I got ready. But he was like Gary Cooper in High Noon. He drew first and shot. Even though I tried to get my hand far down into his palm, he was quicker. And when I squeezed, he destroyed me.

“It hurt, but I liked it.”

We talked for 10 or 15 minutes, and when we parted, I wanted one more shot.

That’s what she said.

I tried the amiable route — hey, have a good year, stay healthy, yada yada yada, and stuck my hand out almost as an afterthought, to try for the element of surprise. He stuck his hand out. At the last second, I plowed ahead, hard, and got my hand deep into his.

Deep into his hand.  Not his rectum.  Just to be clear.

No use. Even when he didn’t expect to shake, he figured out in a split-second what I was trying to do, and he death-gripped me, and I almost felt like, ‘Now I know how he can change lanes so quickly and make people miss.’ He gripped so hard I thought I heard a bone crack. I know when I’m beaten.

So, to recap: even after Adrian Peterson crushed Peter King’s hand five consecutive times, King — a lumpy sportswriter in his fifties — thought he could deliver a stronger handshake than one of the best players in the NFL.

c. I think the commissioner, Jerry Jones, Dick Ebersol, John Mara, Adam Schefter and others were way too kind in this piece my editors asked Schefter to write in recognition of me receiving the McCann Award.

Uh oh. King linked to something written about him. Is it any more obnoxious and out of touch than things written by King?  Let’s take a look:

“The thing I have always admired most about Peter King is his love for his work and his genuine enjoyment of being around people who compete [in] the drama of the games,” said Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones.

“He has been a serious contributor to the NFL for more than 20 years, because he has reached out to our fans and helped make our game the most popular sport in America. [...] Passion is an overused term in athletics today, but Peter has it. He brings it to work with him every day.”

You know what?  The Double-J is exactly right.  That’s everything that’s good about King: he really loves just talking to players and celebrating the NFL. He’s self-absorbed, self-important, oblivious to criticism, and more naive than a teenage Mormon bride, but he’s a nice guy who loves his job.

“I always look forward to Monday mornings to read the ultimate quarterback of NFL journalism,” said NFL commissioner Roger Goodell. “Nobody does it better than Peter.”

FALSE.  Many people do it better than Peter.   Unless “it” is relaxing one’s sphincter to bring a lonely quarterback to orgasm.

And then there’s one of Peter’s bosses, the chairman of NBC Sports, Dick Ebersol. “Peter has a natural curiosity and boyish enthusiasm about many things in his life, especially this game that we all love,” Ebersol said. “He may be in his early fifties, but he has all of the enthusiasm of that young boy from Connecticut who, from an early age, simply adored sports.”

“This fully grown man has the analytical skills of a child.”

Over time — which, ironically, is a subject that Peter rails against in print —

Wait, he rails against the passage of time?  “Time, you are the Continental Airlines of dimensions!”

he became a towering figure in his profession, an example for others, a man that remained humble when many would not have been.

Unless, of course, your hotel doesn’t provide free coffee in its lobby before 6:00 a.m. DON’T THINK PETER KING HAS FORGOTTEN YOU, MARRIOTT LAGUNA CLIFFS!

“I have known Peter for some 25 years and he hasn’t changed,” said ESPN’s Chris Mortensen. “From day one, I’ve eyewitnessed his passion for his job, the excellence of his world and his love of sport. All of it is only surpassed by the fact that he is one of the best persons in the world and a great family man.”

Mortensen then retracted his statement after Jay Glazer reported that King is not, in fact, one of the best “persons” in the world.

Peter doesn’t big time anyone, no matter how big time he is.

Unless you’re a child hoping to get a foul ball from a spring training baseball game.

Anyway, back to King’s column:

g. If you go to the Hall weekend, don’t think you’ll catch up on sleep by missing the parade. Big, big mistake. Big-time high school bands, baton-twirlers, floats, Rod Woodson and Dan Fouts riding in convertibles and waving, crazy things like dancing garbage-can haulers. Total Americana.

So wait a sec, all those things kept Peter King from sleeping? The baton-twirlers were making too much noise? “Hey, someone turn those floats down!”

i. Thanks to the Army Medivac team from Sarasota, Fla., for the lift in the Blackhawk helicopter Saturday night, the one that buzzed Fawcett Stadium. Glad to see the country’s in good hands, men. The thing I’ve emphasized to people about our military that the public might not know is how smart these soldiers and pilots are. Impressive.

Some of them are even bright enough to hate reading your column. And it’s medevac, not medivac, you simple-minded soft-serve bowl of Neanderpolitan.

h. Jay Cutler, in front of 27,000 at Soldier Field Saturday, went 22 of 27. There’s no stopping the hype now, and it’s (mostly) justified.

Cutler on his performance: “Whatever.”

i. In the Foxboro area today? Go to Patriots practice and get screened for skin cancer. The Patriots will be doing it, free, from 8:30 a.m. to 12:30 p.m., and from 3-7 p.m. in the W3 lobby, the area where fans arrive for camp. Excellent and timely idea, considering that a million new cases of skin cancer are diagnosed every year, and that Jim Johnson just died from it.

Boston fans, RESPECT THE SUN.

l. Wish I could see all 32 [preseason camps]. But it’s a death march to try. John Clayton did it once, and he survived. I’d fear for my health, my marriage and my sanity.

Especially his marriage. The temptations on the road are great and numerous. So many quarterbacks with exquisite handwriting!

e. Why haven’t we become technologically advanced enough to be able to go online on airplanes? Is any airline doing this yet? I’d love to hear if one is. Let me know.

*facepalm*

You know, for someone who writes an Internet column and uses Twitter, you’d think Peter King could use a search engine. I Googled “airlines with Internet,” and here are some stories on the first page of results:

American Airlines Launches Internet Service on Longer, Nonstop Flights
Southwest Airlines joins the “superskyway” with inflight Internet trials
American Airlines launches Internet service on SFO flights
United Airlines offers Internet Access

Pretty fucking exhausting work, typing three words into the most popular webpage on the Internet and pressing “enter.”  But then, maybe that sort of thing isn’t obvious to someone with the mind of a child.

Allow me to apologize in advance for the lack of venomous vulgarity in this week’s breakdown of Peter King’s reviled Monday Morning Quarterback column. Drew’s unavailable today, and while Princess Assloaf provides the usual amount of retardation today, I can’t help but soften my stance somewhat, given that King kindly filmed the above segment as the opener for Saturday’s Blogs with Balls conference, where Christmas Ape and I both appeared on panels to swear about how to “make it big” in blogging. Yes, do it right, and you, too, can barely eke out an existence! Join the movement!

After the jump, prepare to not talk about Favre (read: talk about Favre) and get informed with totally unbiased recommendations for summer reading!

I’m mostly going off Favre Watch for a week (I can just feel the disappointment out there) to talk about some other quarterbacks, Donovan McNabb and Mark Sanchez most notably.

That Sanchez! Just like Johnny Damon!

Then it’s onto something I do far, far too little — promote reading.

Yes, usually Peter does the opposite by subjecting us to his column.

Not to be preachy, but in the IM/Texting/Twitterization of America, I’m going to give you five superb summer options, including the most vivid, riveting war book of our time. I’m not a history buff, but I’m a huge fan of books that put you in the middle of something historical.

So he’s not a history buff, but he IS able to tell you which book is better than all others on a historical subject.  That’s the kind of expertise uninformed hyperbole you can’t pay for!

A lone paragraph on Favre first:

This comes one whole paragraph after he said he was “mostly” going off Favre Watch.  Nice restraint.

He’ll be on HBO tonight with Joe Buck on his new show, “Joe Buck Live,” and it’s a good get, obviously. America might be totally sick of Favre, but everyone in the business wants to hear about his probable return to football.

What Peter King says: “The entire country is sick of Brett Favre, but everyone I work with wants to hear about Brett Favre, so I’m going to push this on my readers all across the country.”

What Peter King means: “FUCK YOU, readers.”

There’s a reason Roger Goodell’s always on the elliptical trainer.

Goodell told him about this thing called “physical fitness.”  It’s even better than walking!

At any league meeting or Super Bowl, you’re bound to see Goodell, at 5:15 a.m. or some similar early hour, dripping with sweat in the fitness center of some hotel.

Peter knows because he stumbled into the gym in search of free coffee.  So hard to find before 6 a.m.

In three weeks, he and close to a dozen community leaders in Seattle will attempt to climb the 14,411-foot peak at Mount Rainier to raise –they hope — more than $1 million for the United Way.  “I’ve been staring at that mountain since I was a kid,” Jim Mora told me Friday, “and it’s time I do something about it.”

Oh no!  Mora’s going to nuke Rainier off the map!  He’s mad with power!  Why did Holmgren give him the nuclear codes?!?!?  WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYY??????????

The climbing schedule would sound hellish for a world-class athlete, never mind a 50-year-old commissioner. On the morning of July 7, the climbers will trek to about 10,000 feet, set up tent, and sleep until about midnight.

Will they be starting at the Visitor’s Center?  Because that’s at 5400 feet, and you can drive there.

Speaking of the Seahawks …

This kicked off seven MORE paragraphs about the Seahawks, all on the first page of MMQB.  Peter did, however, stop short of giving a hat tip to daughter Mary Beth.

I’m concerned about how little I’ve read the last few years. Maybe it’s e-mail, maybe it’s the voluminous easy sites that magnetize you to them four or five times a day…

“…maybe it’s all the time I spend bitching about coffee and listening to old messages from Favre on my answering machine.”

…when 10 or 15 years ago I’d have sat down and read something of substance.

Something like…?

I’ll pick up the latest Grisham (I’ve loved them all except “Playing for Pizza,” which seemed nonsensical to me) and have it done in two days.

Oh, John Grisham.  Interesting.  See, when I think “substance,” I generally think of something that might challenge my intellect.  But no, a novel about lawyers in danger that you can breeze through in two days is substantive reading for people who assume that following road signs is more efficient than taking three minutes to study a map to plan a driving.  Golly, I can’t wait for literature recommendations from a Grisham fan.

1. Tears in the Darkness: The Story of the Bataan Death March and Its Aftermath, by Michael Norman and Elizabeth M. Norman.
The Normans, husband and wife, are good friends of our family.

You have to be fucking kidding me.  Of course.  Of course they are.  In fact, I feel naive for not seeing this coming.

It would be shame — for you — if you thought my affection for the Normans colors what I think of the book they worked on for the past 10 years. I don’t consider myself anything close to a history expert, nor a fan of the military genre, but this is such a vivid slice of an important piece of American history that anyone with the slightest interest in where we have come from simply has to read this book.

I don’t want to take away from the book, because I haven’t read it and it may very well be excellent.  At the very least, the Bataan Death March is a war crime that more Americans should know about.  However, King’s recommendation essentially read like this: “I don’t know much about history, and I’m not a fan of military books, but this book that close friends of mine wrote is the best military book of our time.”  Please pardon my skepticism, sir.

The temptation in a war book is to make one side full of good guys and the other side the bad guys

Wrong.  Any historical (that is, non-memoir) account of war worth its salt owes it to the reader to at least attempt to show both sides.  But what do I know?  I’m just a history buff who enjoys the military genre.

But the Normans made the Japanese soldiers as human as the Americans, writing that on the morning of one attack, Japanese lieutenant Ryotaro Nishimura “woke his men at three o’clock and huddled with them at breakfast: miso soup and an egg over a thick porridge of barley and white rice. Japanese soup always reminded the men of home, but on this morning the troops complained the miso had a ‘strange’ flavor, and Ryotaro Nishimura knew that the men had awakened with the metallic taste of fear in their mouths.”

I mean, wow. It’s like that for 398 pages.

Well done, Normans!  Nothing wins over Peter King like the story of an unsatisfying meal!  He felt the same way the last time he ate at Capital Grille!  Why, Peter once had a pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks that tasted kind of metallic!  He knows the taste of fear!

Tweetup Updates. I’ll be having four of these before the start of the football season… Preliminarily, I’ll be at the Los Angeles Coliseum on Monday, July 13 (with Sam Farmer of the Los Angeles Times); in Albany on Monday, Aug. 3; in Indianapolis on Monday, Aug. 10; and in Boston in early September at a site to be determined.

Readers, that’s what we call “marching orders.”

Quote of the Week I: “When we were looking at taking Mark, I studied all the great generals to see what those men were like early in their careers, see how they reacted. It’s all about how they reacted in battle, what happened when the action was really live. You see that in Mark, his calm.”
– New York Jets owner Woody Johnson on rookie quarterback Mark Sanchez

Holy fuck that is stupid.

I realize you get excited about your players, particularly about the man you believe is the next long-term quarterback in franchise history, but that is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard an owner say.

Wait, what?

**reassembles exploded head**

Sometimes we forget that, for all of his non sequitur ramblings, Peter King can actually use his spongy head to formulate decent thoughts about football.  Consider this your carrot, fatass.

Factoid of the Week That May Interest Only Me: MMQB hero of the month Austin Wood, the Texas left-handed reliever who threw 13 scoreless relief innings in the NCAA Tournament, was rewarded for his pluck last week. The Detroit Tigers selected him in the fifth round of the Major League Baseball draft, making him the 150th overall pick in the draft.

I think it’s time to remove the “May” from the title of that section.

I think you’re going to see an announcement soon that Matt Millen is joining Bob Papa in the Thursday night NFL Network booth. Assuming it happens — and I’m sure it will — ESPN is getting busted in the chops by this in almost the same way NFL Network got busted in the chops when Jon Gruden jilted the Network for ESPN.

Oh no!  Jilted by Matt Millen!  Now the company won’t be subjected to failure and financial ruin!

The big difference is, Gruden left the Network high and dry; Millen will still be doing the work he previously agreed to do for ESPN.

Oh, so… ESPN wasn’t busted in the chops at all.  In fact, this thing Peter King thought he thought has been a waste of everyone’s time.

You might ask why ESPN agreed to allow Millen to do the Thursday night games and beat himself up by giving himself three separate jobs, at least in November. Good question. I’m told it’s because he really wanted the Thursday night gig and wouldn’t have been a happy ESPN camper had he gotten turned down.

You can’t lose talent like Millen!  No one wears a mustache like him!

I think [the Plaxico case] is a very slippery slope for Roger Goodell. He’s on record as being opposed to discipline for a first-time offender until that offender has his case adjudicated in a court of law. So on the surface, he seems bound to have to give Burress his day in court before bouncing him. The mitigating factor here is that it’s such an open-and-shut case; Burress has never argued that he didn’t possess the gun, and he has never argued that he didn’t fire the gun. But if Goodell lives by his precedent, he’ll let Burress play until he’s tried. I’m not trying to be a cop here. I’m just saying this continuance for Burress, on all sides, might be legally justifiable. But it stinks. That’s the only word for it — it stinks.

Bah!  Damn you, legislative process!  Peter King demands justice immediately!  You hear that, Schlereth?  YOU OWE KING A CAPITAL GRILLE DINNER!!!!

I think the Rex Grossman signing in Houston says one thing to me:

Texas bitches gonna get impregnated with the long ball.

The honeymoon’s over for Dan Orlovsky as the walk-in, no-doubt backup to Matt Schaub.

Oh no!  The city of Houston barely even had a chance to fall in love with the terrible quarterback on its bench!  Now that they’re got an erratic mediocre guy in front of him, they don’t know WHO to love!

I think the next interesting football-related journalistic battle line might be how many clicks NBCSports.com can take away from the field by acquiring profootballtalk.com. Today, NBC will announce it has reached a deal with PFT that will allow the site to exclusively license its content to NBCSports.com. Mike Florio, the dogged founder and writer for the site, is giving up his day job (lawyering) to devote more time to PFT, so NBC could be getting even more valuable content than PFT has been publishing.

But not more valuable than the new SPRINT FAMILY PLAN!!!

I must be un-American. I hate “Sweet Caroline” in the bottom of the eighth at Fenway. How’d that dumb song ever get picked as a fan anthem?

Holy shit.  That’s two feathers in your cap this week, King.  Three if we count the Blogs with Balls video.  DON’T TRY TO WIN ME OVER, JERKASS, or I swear to God I’ll take your daughter out to a nice seafood dinner and never call her back.

Have you noticed a lot of baseball players look like they’re wearing pajamas, not form-fitting uniforms?

Yeah, it’s almost like they’re wearing them in the traditional style.

Peter King wants men in tighter pants, dammit!  It’s not a sport unless he can salivate over the outline of your beefy haunches.

Amazing but true in Saturday’s New York Times: The Yankees have sold out one game out of the first 30 home games this year at the new Yankee Stadium.

Probably has something to do with charging $500 for a ticket during a recession.  Amazing but true.

How does Luis Castillo show his face Friday night when the Mets play at home for the first time since The Drop? Not just The Drop, either … how about picking up the ball with two Yankees steaming around the bases and throwing it to second instead of throwing it home? Insane.

Well, Castillo’s getting paid $6.25 million this season.  I would assume that he has a stipulation in his contract to show his face in his home park even after he costs his team a game.  But by all means, Peter, act like the play affected much more than 0.6% of the entire season.

Coffeenerdness: Settled into a good routine here in Boston at night, working or TV-watching in the last couple of weeks before vacation, and brewing a small pot of Peet’s Major Dickason’s Blend decaf. That’s some great coffee. Sounds like the script for a commercial.

“Peet’s decaf!  Great for watching TV at night!”  Lofty ad campaign.

Mike McGuire, back in Germany, is beginning to focus on his favorite pastime, the NFL. “So you know I was a Drill Sergeant for three years and a Drill Sergeant Leader. My thought is that with all these in-shape super-hard NFL players, we should take a couple of them, work them out and do a two or three day “In the Life of a Basic Training Soldier.” That would be awesome. I talk with my wife all the time about what I would do to them and see just how good of shape they are in. People would watch that. I know that NFL fans would be interested.”

That’s a fucking stupid idea.  The purpose of Basic Training is to get soft-bodied recruits into shape and to teach them discipline.  It’s not exactly scaled to challenge professional athletes.  “Oh wow!  That’s amazing!  Julian Peterson can do TWENTY push-ups!”  The only conceivable way this could be interesting is if we got to watch Vince Wilfork try to run three miles.

Mike McGuire, NFL network programmer. You’ve got a retirement job, Mike.

The NFL Network may disagree.  Don’t quit your day job, Mike.  Whatever that is.

Welcome to another spectacular edition of the internet’s least reliable gambling column, Always Be Covering. Today, in the grand tradition of Fire Joe Morgan I’m going to attempt to tackle the Sports Guy‘s latest offering following his spectacular 0-4 performance a week ago. Buckle up…

Not to step on Jeff Foxworthy’s toes, but here’s how you know you just went 0-4 with your Round 2 playoff picks:

That’s the first sentence? Jeff Foxworthy references? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS? Obviously I’ve made a huge mistake.

• If your first three favorites lost their games outright in a scenario that would have netted 29-to-1 odds on a three-team parlay, you just went 0-4 on your playoff picks.

If only I had parlayed the moneylines of three games I picked wrong I’d be rich, richer than Nazis! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED OUT ON THIS OPPORTUNITY?

• If your wife comes home, sees your face and asks, “What’s wrong?” …

You just got caught masturbating to old game film of Tommy Heinsohn. Or maybe you incorrectly picked some football games, you know, either way.

I might as well be Louden Swain in “Vision Quest” right after Carla moved out without telling him.

Well, you know what happens after those montages? The dude always comes back! Didn’t Louden end up pinning Chute? That will be me, dammit! Have some faith.

I’ve barely made a dent and I’ve already gotten through references to a 90′s comedic hack, The Longest Yard, Swingers, and Vision Quest. So yeah, it’s pretty much the same column I remember from the last time I read Simmons.

The lesson, as always: I am HUGE in Pakistan.

Also HUGE in Pakistan: human trafficking, feudalism, and religious persecution.

I am immediately adding this to my Sports Czar campaign: If Collinsworth is gigless for an NFL playoff weekend, either CBS or FOX has to hire him for one of the games or risk a $1,000,000 fine from the FCC. We don’t want this to happen again, baby.

Wait, are you the Sports Czar or the Chairman of the FCC? Eh fuck it, you can probably do both.

The Don Beebe Award for “Best Momentary Silver Lining During An Out-And-Out Catastrophe”
To ABC Family’s HD channel for showing the four-movie “Karate Kid” marathon during Sunday’s games as my handicapping world was falling apart. Just as it was becoming apparent Eli had a better chance of eating one of the goal posts, digesting it and crapping it out over throwing a decent pass in the Giant Stadium wind, “Kid II” was finishing up and “Kid III” was looming. So all wasn’t lost. I spent the next hour trying to find similarities between Eli and Daniel-San, ultimately coming up with seven

Only seven? LOOK CLOSER!

Note: Can you tell “Teen Wolf” has been on a lot lately? I can’t stop mentioning it in columns.

Apparently Teen Wolf has been on six times a month for six straight years. But really, you can’t stop mentioning it? Have you tried not mentioning it? Because that’s probably the first thing I’d do.

By the way, a reader pointed out No. 45′s incredible performance on Fox’s team and I looked for it on my third viewing of 2009 … there’s a good possibility No. 45 finished with 22 points, 25 rebounds and nine blocks without getting a single line of dialogue. Check it out next time it’s on.

No.

Note to Jake: Don’t blame yourself, blame us. It’s our own fault for trusting you laying 10 points at home. And just for the record, I’m adding this to the Playoff Manifesto next year: “Never lay significant points with a QB whose name rhymes with ‘snake.’”

Yep, that’s your problem. Not nearly enough rules! New rule suggestion: Never take gambling advice from a guy who can’t go a week without analyzing the stats of role players from Teen Wolf.

The Ryan Seacrest Trying To High Five a Blind Guy Award for “Most Entertaining and Somewhat Amazing Moment By A Host Or Play-By-Play Guy”
To Kenny Albert for not blinking once during his pregame and second half intros for the Panthers-Cards game. Would he blink if you threw water at him? What if you punched him right in the face?

If you punched him? No, probably not.

The Dee-Dee Getting Assaulted Again on “Hunter” Award for “Serious Promos for A Serious Show That Become 100 Times Funnier If You Don’t Watch That Show”
To CBS for the incessant stream of “Grissom leaves ‘CSI’” commercials that had me initially saying, “Wait, Marquis Grissom is leaving ‘CSI’?”

HAHAHAHAHAHA!

I can’t tell if I missed out by never getting hooked by this show, or if I saved 200 hours of my time that was spent on more important things, like trying to figure out No. 45′s stats in the final “Teen Wolf” game. It’s a coin flip, really.

Kill me. Or him. Just kill one of us.

The Come And Touch It, Dave, Award for “Most Noble Attempt to Degrade Me For My 0-4 Performance Even Though Nothing Else Needed To Be Said”

Bronze (to U. Howard in Philly): “Damn you. I just realized that you went 0-4. It’s a good thing you’re funny or else I’d stop listening and reading religiously. Keep making with the laugh laugh. You’re like that girl we all dated for a while in our early- to mid-20s that was only good for one thing. She couldn’t cook, couldn’t take care of a pet or a plant, barely could read. But she did one thing well.”

That’s right, his pussy is like a vice grip.

The Kate Winslet Accepting a Golden Globe Award for “Most Uncomfortable Performance”
For the poor Tennessee fans … you could actually hear their sphincters collectively tighten…

Literally!

Nobody knows that haunting sound better than Red Sox fans…

Obviously. NO ONE DENIES THIS!

Alge Crumpler’s fumble was a self-fulfilling prophecy in many ways; it’s not like the fans made it happen, but they created an environment with their excessive doubt where it opened the door for something like that to happen. (Yes, I fully believe in this crap.)

“Well that’s because you’re an idiot.” -Elaine Benes

Anyway, the strangest thing about the Dave Roberts Steal in 2004…

Is that we’re talking about it now in this completely unrelated forum?

…and the one thing I will never fully be able to figure out — not just at the time, but four years later — was why the beaten-down Red Sox fans rallied behind Kevin Millar in the top of the ninth, then reacted like Mia Wallace after Vincent’s adrenaline shot just because he drew a walk and Roberts ran out of the dugout.

I am officially lost in this metaphor.

I was there.

We know.

I can still see him leading off first base and being utterly convinced that he could steal it, even though we had 86 years of bad luck working against us. We all felt that way. It was weird. I cannot explain it. Like we knew.

We’re clairvoyant.

By contrast, the Titans fans never seemed like they felt good about winning that game.

Ah, so it’s their fault.

So how do we explain that? Is there a term we can come up with?

Surely.

Maybe CISSESP (Collective In-Stadium Sports ESP)? I believe in ghosts, I believe in bad karma, and I absolutely believe in CISSESP.

But do you believe in the Church of Baseball?!

Can you think of any two people who have less in common than James Brown and Pacman Jones?

Caligula and Judge Reinhold.

Going in, I thought the famously clean-cut Brown was going to be dressed like one of the “Exorcist” priests and just start the interview by saying, “Pacman, welcome to the show … THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!”

To be fair, JB did go to a Catholic high school.

As it turned out, Pacman’s response was wildly disappointing — partially because I couldn’t understand him, and partially because … well, I couldn’t understand him. So that was a problem. I was hoping he’d go off the board with something like, “Pacman likes to watch his fellas get their lap dances on! Pacman don’t like ‘em himself, Pacman just likes to watch! Can you feel me?”

OH PACMAN GON’ DRINK!

The Alec Baldwin Playing Tony Bennett Award for “I Like Things That Are Great … Good Things Are Fantastic”
To the things I liked about Round 2 and the week that went with it: Larry Fitzgerald settling the “Who’s the best receiver in football” argument once and for all …

Or at least until the great WES WELKAH! returns next season.

… the sassy new judge on “Idol”

TH-THAT’S TONY KORNHEISER’S MUSIC!

To the things I didn’t like about Round 2 and the week that went with it:
.. Kobe not being satisfied just with ripping off MJ’s fist pump, so he rips off Sam Cassell’s Testicle Dance …

But KG’s pathetic rip-off Jordan’s chalk clap? Chills.

Without further ado, the championship weekend picks…

Oh thank God, it’s over! ON TO THE PICKS!

/looks at Simmons’s picks
//realizes they are the same as his own

Fuck, I may as well just embrace it.

/turns on Teen Wolf