Int. Romo’s apartment
[phone rings]
Tony: You got Romo!
Peter King: Hey Tony, how are you doing today?
Tony: Oh hey, Peter. I’m good, I’m getting ready for Sunday’s game.
Peter: I bet you are, I bet you are.
Tony: Yeah…so what is it you’re calling about?
Peter: Oh you know, I just wanted to chat.
Until recently, I thought Peter King reserved his breathless enthusiasm for the likes of Brett Favre and Tony Romo. But that was before Drew brought this week’s slurpfest regarding Marriott’s exercise rooms and breakfast buffets to my attention. Then a question struck me, is it possible King effusively fawns over every single thing he enjoys even slightly? Well, today we got our answer…
“I was on the way home yesterday, trying to make my way from the baggage claim to the taxi stand at LaGuardia. Between my bags and a hot cup of Peet’s Garuda Blend, I had my hands full. It was then I saw someone outside walking towards the same door I was. Now here’s the stunning part, this nice gentleman—who didn’t know me from Adam– actually paused to hold the door open for to exit before he walked in himself. What a guy! I mean, he didn’t exactly open the door for me because it was already open, but he kept it from closing in my face. He had on a sharp-looking pine green J. Crew shirt—he looked like a million bucks! As I approached, I caught a slight whiff– just a faint aroma, mind you, nothing overpowering by a man of his quiet dignity, of his aftershave (it must have been aftershave as he didn’t strike me as a body-spray or cologne type of guy).
Under his arm he carried a book, and even though I couldn’t see the title, I’m sure it was something quite literate and heady—but not pretentious. No a chap like this could never be pretentious. He gave me a slight smile as I passed. Not one of those “gee, aren’t I a prince” grins, just a slight “hail-fellow-traveler-well-met” uptick to the corners of his mouth. In an earlier age, he might have even given me a quick doff of his fedora.
This guy surely has a beautiful wife, a couple smart little kids and a hearty pot roast waiting at home for him, yet he takes time out of his busy day to help out a complete stranger. Keep your eyes on this up-and-comer, America! I wouldn’t be surprised if that fellow winds up in the Senate someday. Just a super, super gentleman from whom we could all stand to learn a thing or two!
Oooh, and let me tell you about the young lady at Baskin-Robbins…
[INT. PANERA BREAD, NEW ORLEANS]
Drew Brees: How’s your ciabatta chicken sandwich, Peter?
Peter King: Oh, it’s delicious. So, Drew, you have to be upset with all of the concern after another hurricane in the gulf.
Drew Brees: Yeah, I really wish we could just move the team to LA and get it over with. I mean, what if the damage to Gustav would have been more severe? Are we going to be rebuilding that shithole every three years?
PK: Drew, that’s not very sensitive.
Drew Brees: What do you mean? It’s true.
PK: I suppose that’s true, but people live there.
Drew Brees: Well, people are stupid, Peter. We’re putting all this money into disaster relief when we should be fighting terrorism here at home.
PK: Oh, come on, Drew.
Brees: I’m serious. Some Arab terrorist could walk through that door and kill us all. The government should be doing something to protect us!
PK: Drew, I can’t believe what I’m hearing from you.
Drew Brees: It’s time to be aware of our role in the world, Peter. People want to do bad things to us, for reasons we don’t fully understand. Wrap your head around that for a…
PK: Drew, do you really want to live in a country where we’re expected to police the rest of the world? I mean, give me one reason why we should assume that role.
Drew Brees: Peter…is that your dad behind you?
PK: Actually, my father’s been…Oh, Christ, no! (more…)
There’s no doing justice to this video, which comes to us via HBO via Deadspin via the video capture wizardry of Awful Announcing. You have to fucking watch it. I’m fucking dying. I wish they hadn’t edited this segment in any way, shape or form. But I’ve taken the liberty of filling in some of the gaps for you.
Jerry: Thank ya, darlin’. Look at that! YEEEEEHAWWWW!!!! THAT IS GOOD, HOT STUFF! ALMOST HOTTER THAN ONE OF MY STEWARDESSES AFTER I’VE DUMPED A WARM DIET PEPSI MAX ALL OVER HER TITS!
Peter King: (stuffing face) Mmmm, yes… so good… helps ease the pain of Brett being so far away…
Jerry: Hey, slow down there, Porkville Eatingcocker! Save a few for the Double-J! Don’t just leave a few unpopped kernels on the bottom of the box. I FUCKING HATE THAT SHIT, YOU FAT JERSEY QUEER!
Peter King: (stuffing face) Can’t stop eating it… gonna write three paragraphs on it and give it an A-… wish it had had juuuust a bit more canola oil… may have to create new “What’s Poppin’?” section in my column…
Jerry: Jesus Christ, you are a disgusting eater. It’s like your mouth is a goddamn compacter. Why don’t you just shove your whole arm down your throat while you’re at it? Look at me, Fatso. I eat three, maybe four kernels at a time. I don’t stuff my mouth like it’s a goddamn UPS box.
Peter King: (stuffing face) Can’t stop eating… wish we could mix some KFC into this bucket… do you have any good scoop for me?… tell me something decent and I’ll never criticize you again…
Jerry: Well, I got this new hat. You like it, fatty?
Peter King: (stuffing face) New hat! (furiously scribbles notes) Great stuff… lemme make a call to my darling Brett and eat more popcorn at the same time… need to tell him how insensitive Jets fans are…
Jerry: Oh, just have it all, Enola Gay. I done lost my appetite. Here’s a Pop Secret for you: YOU ARE ONE BIG GAY ASSHOLE!
Peter King: (stuffing face) Getting bad reception… have to leave to tell Brett about how good the popcorn is…
Jerry: Yeah well, stay slim! Just kidding. YOU HAVE AS MUCH A CHANCE OF STAYING SLIM AS OL’ WADE DOES! NOW GIT OUTTA MY OFFICE, HARVEY MILKSHAKE! YEEHAW WOOHOO I AM FUCKING CRAZY!
You may have heard that Peter King was in attendance for his man’s debut as a New York Jet, but did you know that the stadium itself was just half full (including the two seats occupied by King)?
4. I think I don’t want to hear what great fans the Jets have. Not for a long time. That crowd Saturday night was a disgrace. At least half the stadium was empty (Ed. Note: such a pessimist!) for Favre’s debut in a Jets’ uniform. I expressed my amazement to a few fellow scribes Saturday night — emphasizing that N.Y. traded for an all-time-great quarterback, not a broken-down one — and they gave varying reasons for the poor turnout. Like it’s the middle of vacation month for New Yorkers, and it’s a preseason game. Horsefeathers. If you really love your team, and you have season tickets, you should have been at that game unless you were in Tibet. Ridiculous.
I mean, what the fuck is wrong with you assholes? What does it take for you to recognize and appreciate the unbridled majesty of pre-season greatness?
For fuck’s sake, the man threw five passes and you missed it! I demand an explanation from you self-described “fans” of the Jets right this minute.
Steve from West Orange: Every August I take the family to Montauk for two weeks. You know, it helps us to reconnect after the summer and before the kids head back to school. Besides, it was just a preseason game, so I was happy to watch the first half on television.
BULLCOCK! That kind of attitude is what’s wrong with America today. You had a chance to take your family to see one of this nation’s greatest heroes take the field for ten minutes and instead you chose to spend that time on vacation? You sir, are an ungrateful little shit who does not deserve to attend a single regular season game. Your children would be better off laying raped and murdered in a Trenton alley than they would under your care.
Ridiculous.
Remember what Steve Mariucci once told me about Favre, and apply it to learning a new offense. “He’s got a photographic memory, or very close to it,” Mariucci, his former quarterback coach, said. “You think he’s sleeping there in the meetings, and he still knows everything he has to know and doesn’t make mental mistakes.”
So throwing the ball to Corey Webster in overtime was part of the plan all along? Steve Mariucci, you sir, are a master at reading body language. “Hmmm. He looks like he’s sleeping. That must mean he’s concentrating EXTRA hard.”
My Favre memory story: Two nights after seeing Sling Blade in 1996, he couldn’t stop talking like Billy Bob Thornton.
Well fuck me, that is amazing. He talked just like a highly imitated character from a popular film? He must be some kind of verbal chameleon! Only he and Frank Caliendo could possess the mimicking skills needed to pull off such a daring, original impression. Quick Brett, do Chris Walken! And Pacino! No one’s ever tried to do those two guys before!
I’m not talking just a few words in the Billy Bob voice as the developmentally disabled vigilante Karl; I’m talking paragraphs. “I reckon I kilt him,” he’d say in the Thornton drawl. And on and on. “Some folks call it a sling blade. I call it a Kaiser blade. Mmm-hmm.”
He’ll learn (the Jets offense) well enough.
King here is saying that, because Favre was able to imitate Billy Bob’s character so well, and because he beat it into the ground, he should have no problem picking up the Jets’ offense. I’ve seen Favre also do a killer Schwarzenegger impression, and I remain convinced that alone is a sure sign that he could master biochemical engineering if he wanted to.
Favre is tired. I can tell you that.
Poor Brett! After everything everyone has put him through!
Just so you know, that “Brett is tired” sentence merited its own line item. I’m excited for more in-depth observations in the coming weeks.
“Favre is bearded. I can tell you that.”
“Favre has grit. I can tell you that.”
“Peyton Manning is a thinker out there. I can tell you that.”
“Tom Brady is a champion. I can tell you that.”
I expect once Favre and his family settle somewhere in west-central New Jersey… the only time he’ll go to Manhattan is when he’s forced to.
Like if someone turns on a camera. Then his hand will be forced.
In his first press conference with his new team Thursday night, Favre, who admitted how far behind he was, said: “I’m so tired of doing interviews and talking about this or talking about that. Tomorrow, hopefully, the mad rush is over.”
“I’m so tired of doing these interviews. Let me just sneak out of here and leak to Greta Van Susteren, Chris Mortensen, Reuters, Chelsea Handler, the editors at US Weekly, the DC press corps, and Matt Drudge how sick I am of doing them.”
Favre, already exhausted and with no knowledge of the playbook, probably got to bed around 3 a.m. Friday morning. And instead of rising early to get cracking on his new offense or sleeping in and getting a fresh start at, say, noon, Favre got an early wakeup to meet the mayor — and, of course, get his picture taken so the papers could trumpet the new Jet hero. Memo to Jets: Opening day is closer than you think. Learning playbooks is more important than meeting the mayor and winning the front page right now. Handle your quarterback with care.
First step in handling your QB: making it look like any and all media whoring sessions were things you forced on him, rather than things he arranged 17 days in advance. Be sure to erect a giant cross for him to lug around, to symbolize to all that Brett and Brett alone must carry the terrible, terrible burden of being Brett Favre. You’ve got some nerve making poor Brett go through this whole dog and pony show, gang.
King also unveiled his new column sections!
a. “What I Learned About Football This Week That I Didn’t Know Last Week.”
“Turns out tight ends are eligible to receive passes! Who knew?”
b. “Good Guy of the Week.”
This item was originally called “Guy who willingly ate lunch with me!”
c. “Reminds Me Of …” (And I plan to find a new title for this one.) This is one I’m most excited about. I’ll compare players from this era to those from the past and try to find similar players in style and impact on the game. I’ve already got one in mind for the first week of the season, and it involves a famous quarterback.
Can’t imagine which one.
Bob Costas, you look really smart in Tiananmen Square.
As opposed to British Columbia, where you just look like an idiot.
I’m not a big Olympics guy, but I must say the NBC pictures of a country we barely know were compelling. Looks smoggy and oppressive.
“This Van Gogh painting is incredibly compelling. Looks smeary and colorful.”
f. Speaking of letting people down, there’s a lot of people in the King family disappointed in John Edwards right now.
We thought he really had had a chance to seize the White House this year!
g. Coffeenerdness: On the advice of Braylon Edwards, I’ve recently tried Panera Bread for lunch. (What do I know? Thought it was just a bakery.) Good sandwiches. Very good dark-roast coffee, the Antiguan blend. It’s not Colgate blend, but for a chain, it’s very good.
Tune in next week when Peter discovers Cosi. He originally thought it was a Spanish furniture importer. Turns out they have flatbread. Intriguing.
This weekend Art Monk will finally be enshrined in the Professional Football Hall of Fame in Canton, OH. KSK has received a copy of the speech he plans to read upon his induction and it follows below in its entirety, and might I say, that guy is still all class.
Oh man, I can’t even tell you guys how great it feels to be standing up here. After all these years I’d begun to resign myself to the idea that I’d never see the day my bust was placed in Canton, but it just shows you the importance of perseverance.
As many of you know I am a man of humble beginnings. Growing up as the son of a welder and a maid in White Plains I never dreamed of the possibility of making my living as a professional athlete. In fact, I was more interested in becoming a musician like my cousin Thelonious for many of my younger years. Fortunately for me I soon gravitated towards football, a game that has provided me with nearly endless opportunities.
After we won our first Super Bowl I was able to open the Art Monk Football Camp where some 14,000 children have learned the craft of the game we all love so much. Spending so many years working with the camp provided experiences as rewarding as any on-field accomplishments, but the three Super Bowls were pretty great too.
Speaking of the Super Bowls, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank all of my teammates and coaches over the years. Each and every one of you are apart of this honor, and I surely wouldn’t be here without your support. I’d also like to thank the Cooke family for drafting me into the tremendous Washington Redskins organization as well as Coach Joe Gibbs who taught me more about how to be an upstanding Christian man than anyone outside of my father.
Of course I can’t conclude without thanking the members of the media who have supported my induction for so many years. There is something incredibly humbling about having thousands of tireless fans passionately campaigning on your behalf. Today I share this honor with all of you, and thank you for your support.
With all that being said, I’d like to address one more group before I go sit back down to listen to my friend and teammate Darrell Green.
To Peter King, Cliff Christl, Paul Zimmerman, and any of my other current and former detractors, consider yourselves humbly invited to…
(more…)
Dear Mary Beth King,
Hiya. Just wanted to say that we at KSK heard about your new internship via your Dad’s column. In case you’ve stopped reading it — don’t worry, most of us have — here’s what he said:
7. I think in the interest of full disclosure, I want to report that my daughter, Mary Beth King, has taken a PR internship with the Seattle Seahawks for the season. It’s going to sound hollow to say I had nothing to do with it, but I didn’t. She applied without telling me. New family rule: Mary Beth does not share conversations with Matt Hasselbeck or Mike Holmgren with her father.
I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced, but it just so happens that I’m one of the more enthusiastic Seahawks fans in this neck of the Inter-woods, so I thought I’d say hello. I’d be happy to hear from you about any and all Seahawks-related news, and I’d eagerly listen to what you have to say about any conversations you have with Mike Holmgren and Matt Hasselbeck. Unlike your father. *cough* Deadbeat! *cough*
Anyway, nice to make your acquaintance. Please feel free to email us any Seahawks news, or press releases, or… you know… photos of yourself.
Kindest regards,
Captain Caveman and the Gay Mafia
But King doesn’t want to stop there! He wants you to help him think up new items for his column, so that they can be spread across even MORE pages on the si.com website!
I Need Your Help
In the mortal words of Mike Greenberg, “We’re back and better than ever.” (At least that’s what Greenie says at the start of his morning ESPN Radio show every day.) And as another season of MMQB dawns, I’m stealing the line and asking for you to help me mean it.
I want to be back and better than ever. I want you to help me find two or three new column staples to add to my weekly lineup of travel notes, stats, quotes, Fine Fifteens, players of the week, factoids that mean something to me, and coffee shots.
Well, we at KSK couldn’t resist such an invitation. Peter, we think you need to add these features RIGHT FUCKING NOW!
Ask My Brother Biff
Who Ass Am I Smoochin’ This Week?
Current GPS Location Of My Daughter
Another Wonderful Thing About Colgate!
Thing I Swallowed Whole
Stop Me Before I Mingle Again!
My Pity Blowjob Of The Week
Things In Brett Favre’s Garbage
Unexpected Thing I Found In My Stool
Another Brilliant Insight From Tiki Barber
Miscellaneous Douchebaggery
Starbucks-Approved Liberal Viewpoint Of The Week
Movie I Saw Recently That You Saw Seven Years Ago
Gratuitous Praise For “House”
What Is Wrong With People Who Aren’t Me?
Another Reason Why I Love Sugarless Gum
Thing I Got To Do That You Are Too Poor To Do
Hysterical Thing Frank Caliendo Did
This Week’s Opinion I Formed After Reading Newsweek
Edgy U2 Song I Like!
Safe Word Of The Day
Thing I Saw That I Couldn’t Believe
Uninformed Baseball Opinion
Yours in the comments. Help Peter King, everyone!
Hey folks, Peter King here with Sports Illustrated here with America’s bravest as they do battle with evil forces abroad. I’m a long way home from the cozy confines of New Jersey, but I’m here to support–
[explosion nearby]
Hey fellas, I’m shooting a remote, can you keep it down over there?
Sir, I’d like a venti Café Au Lait with extra whip and a double shot of expresso…Okay, okay, forget that; make it a tall Cinnamon Dolce Latte with Sugar Free Syrup and…Well where is the Starbucks on this base?…Are you serious? Okay, okay, just give me a Coke Zero, then. I’m not picky.
- And then get this flimmity-flam, General. I go to wipe my ass, and there’s no toilet paper! So I’m screaming like a banshee in the handicapped shitter in Hartfield-Jackson, “Bring me some toilet paper!” And then some janitor came by and stole my bags.
- That’s a great story, Peter.
- Hopefully someone will see this sign and send you boys some supplies. Thank God I’m leaving this place in two hours. No Starbucks, no satellite radio, no ESPN. Won’t it feel great to get out of this dump? When do you get to leave?
- Ten months, if I’m lucky.
- …Oh.
- Peter, thank you for bringing this to our attention. I’m going to get to work on a ten-point plan that will bring designer coffees to our troops. Just don’t ask for a timetable on that.
