More Peter

Peter King, in between triple ice mocha caramel grande lattes, wrote about a week ago that the Colts were going to be fine, just fine, after losing Manning's blind-side protection to retirement. Bah, said Peter. Left tackle? Whatevs, bra. They've got noted line coach Howard Mudd! And rookie Tony Ugoh!



Left tackle for the league's most prolific passing attack=no big deal. But today he wrote that that same team suffered a crushing blow because they lost Anthony "Booger" McFarland.

But the defending champs' D was suspect all year, even after McFarland arrived. He was their best run stopper, true, but was he more important than Tarik Glenn?

King makes it up as he goes along. He picks favorites based on the gurglings of his lower intestine. Invariably he talks some potential 7-9 team up, tells everyone to draft their quarterback early in their fantasy leagues (coughcoughDannyWuerffelcough), and then plays innocent during the season. He also once stole a baseball from a little kid at a spring training game.

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Everyone's Favorite Storyline

A week or so ago, I dared to compare the current tulip frenzy over the Patriots' offseason maneuvering to the spending binges of the early-aught Redskins. To my surprise, the several permanent members of HoGNation rose up in indignation. Pshaw, said they; no matter what anyone thinks of Belichick or his team, their recent successes dictate that we must merely stand up and applaud no matter what they do.

Well, that's just so much horseshit. I'll admit the Redskins were maybe not the best comparison simply because those teams didn't see *any* real regular season success, but I stand by the rest of my analysis. The Pats made one great acquisition (Adalius Thomas, who simply killed my CSU Rams years ago in the 2000 Liberty Bowl), one very good one (Donte Stallworth, who will give Brady his first true deep threat) and a few mildly interesting ones (Wes Welker, Kelley Washington and Randy Moss).

I lump Randay in the "mildly interesting" category because, no matter what anyone says about the healing power of Tom Brady's schlong, he just isn't the player he used to be. Everyone's excited about him in the slot, they say. Huh. Yeah. Randy really loves going over the middle. Even when he was with the Vikes he didn't go over the middle.

So all of a sudden we're supposed to believe that, just because he moved from a hopeless situation to a winner, he's going to be Moss circa '98?

Hardly. Lest we forget, Randy played on winners. His '98 team went 15-1 and got canned by a vastly inferior Falcons squad. He went to the NFC Championship game again a few years later and showed such heart that his team, which needed a huge game from him on the road, lost 41-0.

Randy is a front-runner without any killer instinct. He's the football version of "Mr. May." (Sorry for including you in this, Mr. Winfield, I still think you were great). I can see him outjumping some Buffalo Bills for touchdowns early in the season, getting the hilariously excitable Boston media afroth...and then disappearing right when he's needed, aka the playoffs.

What brought my bile up? Today's column by--you guessed it--Peter King, which breathlessly detailed the way New England would send its bevy of wideouts flying past befuddled secondaries, all of which will, apparently, be staffed by TecMo Bowl robots playing base defenses. The site actually changed the initial headline, which was something along the lines of "Patriots will Be Impossible to Stop" to "hard to stop," perhaps realizing that they shouldn't let copy editors indulge in the same variety of man-love homerism that King claims as his specialty.

This is why real football fans despise this part of the offseason: because everyone looks like an All-Pro without pads on. Every catch is proof that someone is the perfect fit, every catch of a breath proof that someone is a bust.

I'm not saying the Pats won't be good. Clearly they will be, barring massive unforeseen setbacks (which never, ever, ever happen), but come the fuck on. Can we get some reportage on a team west of the Ohio?

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Nobody Undersells The King!

Peter King, as is his wont, made a dumb prediction today. No jolt there. That's Peter; such a textured study of the comfortable professional know-it-all that he should be portrayed on the stage. I see Andy Richter doing it. Maybe Warwick Davis on stilts.

Then he followed with a metric tonne of self-satisfied offal. Read on, MacSitOnYourDuffs...

"Of course, when you're thinking about this year's Super Bowl pick, the first thing that goes through your mind is, "Can I please pick two AFC teams?'' Face it: The best three teams in football right now -- and this cannot be debated -- are New England, Indianapolis and San Diego, in some order. Who's fourth? I don't know. Maybe the Saints. Maybe Baltimore, Denver, Chicago."

Whattya mean, this cannot be debated? What the fuck good is something like your column--indeed, sport itself--if it can't be debated? You issue the decree, vetted by your canape-snorting brethren, and that's it? Bullhockey, Mr. King. Bull. Hockey.

And this little bit of virtual fellatio...

"The Patriots, quite simply, have had the best offseason of any team in the free-agency era since the Packers stole Reggie White in 1993 and he became the best recruiter in the NFL. Even if Randy Moss is cut before the first game, the New England offense is dramatically better because Wes Welker and Donte Stallworth give the Pats the kind of talent at receiver they've never had in the Belichick Era."

Sorry, but does anyone else remember the Redskins of the late '90s? When they were collecting Deion and Carrier and whoever the fuck else? Back then, drunk on The Snyde's new car smell, guys like King ate that shite on toast with baked beans. They're doing it again now. If Wes Welker had gone to any other team in the league, would you have read a solitary word about it?

Finally...

You did the right thing, Billy Donovan. You were taking the job in Orlando for the money, regardless of how you tried to convince yourself otherwise, but there will always be money for people as talented as you.

Hey, Pete...hold up. Here. Wipe that off, man. Your wife doesn't believe you anymore. She doesn't believe anything anymore.

And for Christ's sake, fasten up your belt. Read more