Monday, December 29, 2008

Oh Peyton, Sweet Sweet Peyton

I loathe Peter King and all he stands for. Sometimes, when I think about my distaste for him, I start to feel a little bad. I figure, “Man, this guy probably isn’t so bad, he’s a father, with children and a wife, and he’s got a lot of people that love his writing. I’m sure he gets plenty of nice letters every week and tries to cater to the masses that fidget until his Monday Morning Quarterback column goes up on Maybe I shouldn’t hate him.”

Then I read a steaming pile of shit like this week’s edition.

You can go to Kissing Suzy Kolber and read the esteemed Big Daddy Drew’s authoritative piece-by-piece takedown of it (after you’ve read every fucking word of this post, you lazy Ritalin-addled punk), but I feel that not even that literary beating adequately attacks King.

If you’re Peter King, you’ve got almost unlimited access to players, and yet you abuse it and use it to favor your favorites. I’m looking, in no particular order, at Brett Favre, Peyton Manning, Tom Brady, Bill Belichek, Tony Dungy, Tedy Bruschi, and basically anyone else King thinks he can use to spin a fucking horrid anecdote with a predictably sappy, preachy ending. Guess what Peter, just because Peyton Manning had a knee surgery and it was pretty difficult doesn’t make it a super special story worth sharing. Wow, we’ve never heard that Manning had to get lots of fluid drained and that he’s worked really hard to get back to form. Personally, I just assumed that he snapped his fingers, filmed a few Mastercard commercials to build up his strength, and poof, back to normal. Next time, use your “inside access” to tell us something useful.

King also used the Manning story to essentially make excuses for Manning’s early-season performance, which was less than spectacular, and to strengthen his ridiculous argument that Manning should be the MVP because he led the Colts to 9 straight wins against horse shit competition. If you were wondering, that horse shit competition included the Texans, Browns, Bengals, Lions and Jaguars, not to mention the playoff-bound, but 8-8, Whale’s Vagina Chargers. I’m not here to make an argument about the MVP, but Peyton Manning definitely shouldn’t win it. (Try Matt Ryan or James Harrison.)

PK also used his column to stroke Brett Favre’s erect penis ego, making vague excuses as to why he performed poorly down the stretch (his widdle showder had a boo boo) and make non-prediction predictions as to Favre’s whereabouts for next season. Again, for a more amusing breakdown of that portion of the column, I refer you to KSK.

What troubles me most about this mocha-flavored windbag is the fact that he uses his column to blatantly pimp his personal favorite players, even if they suck. He was friends with the father of the Patriots’ Matthew Slater, so when Slater muffed a kickoff against the Steelers and looked like a real horse’s ass, King spared him a tongue-lashing because of nothing more than a meaningless, non-issue friendship that should have had no relevance whatsoever to his column.

I could go into more detail about his non-football thoughts, coffee nerdness and constant traffic-related bitching, but the thought of having to re-read some of those thoughts makes me want to gag. Great Peter, traffic angers you, you like coffee, and you occasionally pay a shred of attention to other sports, which clearly makes you think that you’re perfectly qualified to offer hard-hitting analysis on those sports. Stick with what you barely know, asswipe, and attempt to write about football.

1 comment:

DJMomJeans said...

"Personally, I just assumed that he snapped his fingers, filmed a few Mastercard commercials to build up his strength, and poof, back to normal."

now that is a hot line