One-on-one with: Roger Clemens

Me: Roger, welcome back!

Roger Clemens: Thank you…Where am I again?

Me: New York.

Clemens: Oh yeah. Awesome. You know, I always loved playing in New York, and my family-

Me: Roger, Roger, whoa. Stop it. You don’t need to go through that spiel with me. We all know why you’re back here.

Clemens: I came back for one reason -- to help the Yankees win a World Series title. I’m very committed to-

Me: Holy crap, Roger! Will you stop it already! Is there an off button on your back?

Clemens: System error!

Me: What?

Clemens: What?

Me: I have no idea what’s going here. Let’s cut the crap though, Rog. For serious. You came back to the Yankees for the money, and we all know it. That’s the reality. But a lot of Major League Baseball teams have money. What reasons besides money made you decide to come back to the Yankees?

Clemens: That’s a great question. I don’t know…probably the money.

Me: Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. What influence did Andy Pettitte have on your decision?

Clemens: Andy’s like, my soul mate. And it’s perfect too, cause he has the kind of soul that does whatever I say.

Me: What does your soul do?

Clemens: Hunts deer, mostly.

Me: Anyway, you still didn’t answer the question. How did Pettitte affect your decision?

Clemens: Well, Andy called me up last week and was like, “Hey buddy, why don’t you come join me back in New York,” I was all like, “What? What are you doing in New York?” I didn’t even know he was there. I thought he like, retired or something, ya’ know, since that’s what I did. He likes to do what I do.

Me: Steroids?

Clemens: What?

Me: Nothing. So wait -- you didn’t even know Pettitte was back with the Yankees until last week?

Clemens: I don’t really follow baseball when I’m not playing. I don’t know if you know this, but I got like (starts counting on his fingers)…a bunch of kids, and I’m always going all around to watch ‘em do stuff. People love when I watch my kids do stuff, cause then they know that I wasn’t kidding about wanting to be close to my family. But I was. Obviously.

Me: Is it true that you introduced the band Aerosmith to human growth hormones?

Clemens: That is the most ridiculous question I have ever heard. It doesn't even make any sense. I don't even know Aerosmith.


Aerosmith looks noticeably buffer since their rookie season

Me: Roger, do you plan on being as utterly dominant as you were before and after you originally arrived in New York, or do you plan on pitching for the Yankees like you did when you pitched for the Yankees? Cause that would suck.

Clemens: Hey man, I won two World Series titles and a Cy Young Award here! How’s that for dominant?

Me: Let me play devil’s advocate here. You’ll be the devil, and I’ll be the advocate. “Yo, devil, what’s up? Seriously though devil, I can’t really advocate for you anymore. I mean, yeah, you won two titles here, but that was really you latching onto an already great and successful team just so you could satisfy your resume with a ring. And you never really dominated here like you did with other teams. In Houston, you would get one run of support and shut the other team out. When you were a Yankee, you’d give up a few runs in the first inning, and then get bailed out by a great offense. What’s up with that, devil?”

Clemens: I am not the devil.

Me: Roger, when you agreed to come back to the Yankees on Sunday -- via your usual brand of understated, attention-deflecting gestures -- you immediately inserted yourself into an already dominant starting pitching staff. Are you prepared to go head-to-head with Kei Igawa* for the third spot in the rotation?

Clemens: Who?

Me: Kei Igawa. He’s like the left-handed version of Jeff Karstens, except he’s Asian and wears sunglasses on the mound. That’s kind of his “thing,” so don’t you go trying it!

Clemens: Being Asian? Wait -- Who’s Jeff Carson? I told you, I don’t really follow baseball.

Me: Roger, I heard that when you announced your return to the Yankees on Sunday during the game, you inadvertently caused a post-menopausal Suzyn Waldman to become pregnant with your child. Is that true?

Clemens: I sure hope not. I'm running out of names that begin with "K." All I got left is "Kid." So I'd be like, "Hey Kid, get over here," and then I'd have a bunch of kids running over to me, which would be a problem, cause I don't like kids.

Me: Do you think the Daily News has already printed the headline “Rusty Rocket” in preparation for your first start?

Clemens: I was thinking more along the lines of “Rocket Launch,” or even “Rocket Boost.” I swear, that paper always amazes me, with the way it takes a simple nickname and spins it around to coincide with current events. Hey, I just thought of one: “Rocket Launch!”

Me: That’s a good one. I always had the headline “Rocket Fuel” waiting in line for the day you got caught using steroids. Then you kind of did get caught, but nobody covered it for some reason, so I couldn’t submit my headline. Weird.

Clemens: That’s funny, cause I always had a headline in my back pocket in response to that headline. Ready for it? “Rocket Cleared.” But wait - then there’d be like, a dot, dot, dot, and in smaller print below it, it would say, “for takeoff,” but then “for takeoff” would be crossed-out, and in its place it would say, “of all charges.” Pretty awesome, huh? I almost wish I had gotten caught using steroids, just so I could have used that one.

Me: You sort of did, though.

Clemens: “Rocket EXPLODES!”

Me: Alright, alright! Calm down, calm down…I won’t mention that again. Really, I won’t.

Clemens: Grrrr…

Me: Roger, let’s bring this talk back to baseball. When will you actually start pitching for the Yankees this season?

Clemens: I don’t know…whenever.

Me: Is that more of a “next month” whenever, or a “Carl Pavano” whenever?

Clemens: Probably closer to next month. The sooner I start pitching, the sooner I start making money.

Me: Well then-

Clemens: Wait, wait – can you cross out “making money,” and instead put “being with my family?”

Me: I could…but that wouldn’t make much sense.

Clemens: Why not? Read it back to me.

Me: Ahem…”The sooner I start pitching, the sooner I start being with my family.”

Clemens: Yeah, so? That’s like poetry right there. People love that family crap. They eat it up.

Me: Yeah but…well, for one thing, your family lives in Houston.

Clemens: Wait -- where am I?

Me: New York.

Clemens: Oh. Well shoot, man, I got like twenty-some houses across the country. One of ‘ems gotta be in New York, right? Somebody call the family and get ‘em over here quick. What’s their number? Where’s my Rolodex? Hey Andy -- get over here!


Hey, seriously man, how much you making over here? Cause I got family in Japan...

*Update: Kei Igawa was sent to SINGLE(!)A on Monday, so Clemens can breathe a sigh of relief. In doing so, the Yankees hope that Igawa will only become a "minor" bust. Bu, dum, ching!

One-on-one with “Best Commissioner Ever,” Bud Selig

The 2007 Major League Baseball season official starts this Sunday, and I’m positively giddy! Here to curtail my excitement is none other than MLB Commissioner, and former Bugle Boy Jeans model, Bud Selig. Mr. Selig has agreed to sit down with us under the conditions that a) I specify that none of the following is remotely true, and b) I do not use the words “human,” “growth,” and “hormone” consecutively. So, there. Done and done. Now let’s get on with The Show. (Get it? The Show? Whatever…)

Me: Mr. Selig, welcome!

Bud Selig: Thanks for having me.

Me: Ya’ know, Bud, I gotta tell you, you’ve always reminded me of one of the Three Stooges, except much older, and ganglier. Not the fat one, but one of the other ones. Did anyone else ever tell you that?

Selig: No, but that’s a nice way to start an interview.

Me: I think it has a lot to do with your bowl haircut. I’m just saying.

Selig: …

Me: Bud, let’s start with the bad news. During your Reign of Terror as commissioner, you oversaw the strike and subsequent cancellation of the World Series in 1994, the oddity of the 2002 All-Star Game tie - which you eventually made even worse by awarding the winner home field advantage in the World Series – the proposed contraction of both the Twins and Expos, Albert Belle, and, of course, the ongoing steroid controversy, which, at this rate, should get resolved around…never. Please explain yourself.

Selig: Well, for one thing, a lot of those issues were out of my control. For example, the work stoppage of ’94 had a lot to do with the Player’s Association refusing to come to the table to work out an agreement. And I can’t really be held responsible for Albert Belle. Plus, you’re neglecting to mention the positives of my tenure, such as the Wild Card, which has been one of the most influential implementations in baseball history.

Me: I must say, I’ve never seen anyone literally pat himself on the back during an interview. You have long arms.

Selig: I do, yes.

Me: But Bud, isn’t your Wild Card “idea” cancelled out by the fact that 240-lb, acne-bursting steroid abusers have helped their respective teams earn Wild Card berths? I call it a wash.

Selig: You’re also forgetting how my negotiating skills helped avert another work stoppage back in 2002.

Me: Listen, you don’t get bonus points for avoiding a strike. You just get negative points for allowing one to happen, which you already have, by the way. So you can’t use that on your resume. Besides, that entire season was marred by the mere possibility of another strike. I could never rest easy that summer, and I blame you.

Selig: Okay, okay. What about Interleague play?

Me: Never heard of it.

Selig: It’s when American League teams play National League teams for a few weeks during the course of the season. Crazy, right? Well, it’s been a huge success!

Me: Oh yeeeaaaaahhhh. I was wondering how the Royals and Pirates turned into such a heated rivalry.

Selig: And what about the World Baseball Classic?

Me: Hmmm, I think you’re using the word “classic” a little loosely there. But I’ll give you that one. Rebuttal: Steroids.

Selig: No comment.

Me: Bud, let’s turn this conversation towards more recent events in which you’ve massively screwed up. You’re in the process of giving DirecTV exclusive rights to MLB games, which means that local cable providers will no longer be able to offer the MLB package to its customers. So now, if you’re a fan of say, the Dodgers, and you did something stupid like move to New York because of something equally stupid – like a job or something – you can’t watch your favorite team unless you install a DirecTV dish in your place of residence, if that is, your place of residence allows such a thing. Or, OR, let’s say you’re one of the rare baseball fans who plays fantasy baseball, and you want to watch some of your guys play on occasion. Well, you can’t do that now either without DirecTV. My brother-in-law has DirecTV, by the way, and the feed goes out when a leaf falls on the dish outside, which is awesome. Who gave you this idea? Satan?

Selig: This idea came to me in a dream, and when I met with DirecTV executives on the matter, they thought it was fabulous!

Me: Did you consult anyone else on the dream, like for example, one of the eight zillion baseball fans on planet earth?

Selig: I didn’t really think their input was necessary.

Me: Of course not. Bud, if all goes well – and by well I mean “horribly wrong” – Barry Bonds will eclipse Hank Aaron’s all time home run record this season. A lot of people – and by a lot of people I mean “no one” – are wondering if you’ll be in attendance for this grand affair. So, will you?

Selig: I’m not sure yet. It depends. I might have to do something that day, depending on what day it is. It’s hard to say. I do a lot of stuff.

Me: Eloquently spoken. But Bud, don’t you think your absence for this inevitable event could be construed as you refusing to acknowledge the culture of steroid-induced records that you yourself created with your blatant indifference?

Selig: What? I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.

Me: Whatever. Besides Bonds, this upcoming season should witness some other milestones as well. Alex Rodriguez should hit his 500th home run, unless he does something completely out-of-character like clamp up, and Ken Griffey Jr. may hit his 600th home run, unless he does something completely out-of-character like get injured. Manny Ramirez should hit his 500th as well, which may be news to him, and Tom Glavine and Randy Johnson each have a shot to win their 300th game, which is just about the most exciting thing I could ever imagine. Will you be in attendance for any of these events, since the possibility of steroids appears to be a non-issue?

Selig: I will attend all of these events. Unless two of them happen on the same day, because I take a six hour nap daily. That is how I get my ideas, because the best dreams come when you are napping.

Me: Totally. Bud, your Wikipedia page mentions that you used to own several used car dealerships, making your transition to Commissioner of Major League Baseball obvious, if not inevitable. If Sammy Sosa were a used car – and he is – how would you sell him to me? Ya’ know, if I were an idiot?

Selig: Well, I’d probably be like, “And right here we have the Sammy Sosa, one of the most famous and well known cars around. He’s got a lot of miles on him, but he’s still one of the best cars out there. Plus, he’s gone down considerably in price, so it’s a great deal if you’re in no rush to get where you’re going!”

Me: That’s pretty good. But what if I asked you where I’m supposed to get the illegal fuel it takes to operate this Sammy Sosa? Can I get it on online, like Gary Matthews, Jr.?

Selig: I’m not sure what you’re talking about.

Me: I’m not surprised.

Selig: By the way, I was under the impression that there was going to be some “good news” on the horizon. We’ve gone over the bad news already, so now maybe we could talk more about the positive attributes of my tenure as commissioner?

Me: Well, to be honest, I searched everywhere, and I couldn’t find any. I even Googled “Bud + Selig + good + news,” and my computer monitor started smoking. Not sure what that means. But, I guess, if we had to talk about some good news, I’d probably just mention how lucky you are to be commissioner of the one sport that, no matter what happens, we’ll always come back for more. Like, no matter how bad you screw up, and take advantage of our unconditional love for baseball, we’ll always be there, because that’s just who we are. So, you’ve got that going for you, which is nice.

Selig: I’ll take it!

Me: Yeah. Congratulations. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get home in time to watch all the games that aren’t available on my cable package. Awesome.


Did he say "Hemroids?" Makes sense...

Super Bowl XLI ‘quarterbacks’ quorner:’ Grossmanning

We’ve already fake interviewed the head coaches involved, so this week – Super Bowl week! – we’re going to instead pretend to sit down with the second most important person on each team – the left tackle. Wait, I’m sorry…the quarterback! And this time, we’re sitting down with both QBs at the same time. Ladies and gentlemen, the stars of Super Bowl XLI: Sexy Rexy and Peyton What’s His Face.

Me: Okay. Which one of you guys is the white guy?

Rex Grossman: We’re both white.

Me: No, no. I mean, the really white guy.

Peyton Manning: We’re both pretty white.

Me: Who’s the Kenny Chesney fan with the fairly large forehead who always does things by the book?

Manning: I like Kenny Chesney, but I don’t think my foreh…

Me: Alright, got it. I just didn’t want to get the two of you confused. I’ve never done two interviews at the same time, and it’s weird when you guys don’t have your uniforms on.

Grossman: I’m wearing a Bears hat.

Me: The two of you have taken virtually parallel paths to get here. Peyton, you’re the best among the “first family of quarterbacks,” who is beloved in Indy, and who finally beat his archrival to get here, thus solidifying your position as one of the all-time great NFL quarterbacks. Rex, you also play quarterback. It’s almost like you’re the same person!

Grossman: People often get us confused.

Manning: Nobody’s ever confused me with him before.

Me: And let’s be honest here – both of you have capitalized on your extreme marketability. Rex, you’re in the commercial where you and teammate Muhsin Muhammad agree to use your cell phones to vote for each other for the Pro Bowl. A stretch, considering your well-documented QB ratings – and it obviously didn’t work - but still. Peyton, you’re in every commercial that is not the aforementioned Rex Grossman commercial. In fact, your overexposure makes Tiki Barber look like Marvin Harrison. Explain how this all went down.

Manning: For me, it started to take on a life of it’s own. I filmed these bits for MasterCard, DirecTV, and others, and they all seemed to come out all at once, to the point where it seemed like I was on every commercial. But I enjoy doing it, and it doesn’t conflict with my dedication to football in any way. Obviously. I mean, I’m in the Super Bowl.

Grossman: Who’s Marvin Harrison?

Manning: Are you serious?

Grossman: Wait, he was the fifth Beatle, right?

Me: Rex, you’re obviously well prepared for Super Bowl XLI. You also were well-prepared to play in the last game of the regular season - an embarrassing loss to the Packers - after which you admitted to not really caring about the game because you were looking forward to partying that night, which was New Year’s Eve. Now, Miami seems like a pretty fun place. Are you going to be focused this Sunday, or passed out on some woman’s couch with a lampshade on your head and pictures of genitalia drawn on your stomach in permanent marker?

Grossman: I will be ready to go. I am focused. Hey, why are you laughing?

Manning: Nothing, nothing. It’s just, well…have you looked in the mirror yet this morning? Somebody drew boobies on your forehead.

Grossman: What? Again? Crap! Where’s the bathroom in here?

Me: From the smell of things, you’re sitting in it. Peyton, let’s turn this conversation your way for a second. You and Rex obviously have different preparation tactics. You prefer to “practice” and watch “game tapes.” Were you always this much of a dork?

Manning: I don’t really consider myself a dork, per say. But I guess, being a football dork is much better than being a real life dork. Like a scientist or something.

Me: Interesting. Peyton, it’s been well documented that your father, Archie, was also an NFL quarterback. He must be very proud of you. Rex, do you have a father?

Grossman: Yeah, probably.

Me: Is he worth discussing?

Grossman: I think he’s an accountant, or something.

Me: Never mind. Rex, let’s discuss the Big Game, of which your team, the Bears, are the underdog. Talk about a contrast in styles! You like to chuck the ball deep; Peyton likes to complete passes. The Bears will win despite you; The Colts will win because of Peyton. But most importantly, Super Bowl XLI features one of the most potent NFL offenses in recent memory versus one of the most aggressive defenses in the league. Rex, what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

Grossman: I don’t know. Like, an explosion or something?

Me: Does your team have a chance, Rex? That’s what I’m trying to ask here.

Grossman: During the explosion? I’m not sure…Are we wearing fire-retardant suits? Why don’t you go ask that scientist dork Manning?

Me: Let’s talk about the rivalry between the two of you. Peyton, you played your college ball at Tennessee, where you initially honed your reputation as a big-game flop, as you could never beat your SEC rival, Steve Spurrier and the Florida Gators. Rex, you played for Florida, but only after Peyton left the Vols. So I ask you, Peyton – will beating Rex and the Bears kind of doubly-count as beating Florida also? I would think so, right?

Manning: No, I don’t think so. I’m kind of past that at this point in my career, as I’m sure Rex is as well.

Grossman: Florida Gators! Whoo-hoo! NATIONAL CHAMPIONS! Chomp, chomp, chomp! You’re going DOWN, Peyton Manning! Woooooooo! What’s a volunteer, anyway? Ha, ha…I’m just playin’. But seriously, you’re going down.

Manning: Yeah, okay. We’ll see who’s going down. By the way, can I see your National Title ring? Oh, yeah – my bad. You never won one. Maybe you should stop living vicariously through other Florida teams.

Grossman: What? Who are you calling vicariously? I prefer women, my man!

Me: Okay, that’s quite enough. Let’s try and stay civilized here, okay? In fact, let’s have a little fun, and play a Super Bowl version of “Truth or Dare,” shall we? Peyton, you first. Truth or dare?

Manning: Hmmm…truth.

Me: Chicago “D.” The ’85 Bears reincarnate, or more overrated than “My Name is Earl.”

Manning: That’s easy. ’85 reincarnate.

Me: I have a Bible right over there. Do I need to get it?

Manning: Okay, okay. More overrated than “Earl.” What’s the deal with that show anyway? I’ve seen it like 10 times, and I’m still waiting to laugh.

Me: Tell me about it. Okay Rex, your turn. Truth or dare?

Grossman: Dare!

Me: How did I know that was coming? Alright, I dare you to not throw one deep ball on Sunday.

Grossman: Truth!

Me: You can’t change your answer. And besides, I was kidding. I dare you to eat that moldy bagel over there. Wait, where did it go?

Grossman: I ate it already. I thought it was a blueberry bagel.

Me: Okay, let’s stop this game before I throw up. Guys, I want to thank you both so much for stopping by to talk, and I wish you both the best of luck in Sunday’s game.

Manning: Isn’t wishing both of us “good luck” a meaningless gesture? Wouldn’t it just cancel out?

Me: You’re such a dork.

Grossman. Word. Wait – we have a game on Sunday?

Manning: Yes, Rex, you do. And don’t forget, during the game, they won’t be saying, “Mooo-vers,” they’ll be saying, “Boooo.” Heh, heh…

Grossman: I don't get it.


Bears vs Colts...in space

AFC Playoff coach’s corner: Tony Dungy

Instead of flooding the market with “previews,” or rambling on incessantly about “facts,” I’ve decided instead to delve into the NFL Playoffs by fake interviewing a few of the big-name coaches who will be prominently involved. Coaches, after all, are very important, because they make a lot of money, and are crucial to the success of their respective football team. Without coaches, armies of helmeted men would all be aimlessly wandering the streets, wondering what time it was, and how they got there. In that respect, we’re going to sit down with a very important coach to discuss the upcoming weekend of the NFL Playoffs. This week’s imaginary participant: Indianapolis Colts’ head coach Tony Dungy.

Me: Coach Dungy, thanks so much for taking the time to talk to us. I know you’re very busy these days.

Dungy: No problem. And I’m not really that busy. This bye week is driving me crazy – I’m not into drinking or prostitutes, so it was good to get out of the hotel for a while, and let the players do their thing.

Me: Alrighty then. Has it sunk in yet that you’re headed to your first Super Bowl, or are you simply waiting to wake up from this dream, only to grab the newspaper with a headline that reads, “Dungy, Colts fall to Pats; Lohan back in rehab?”

Dungy: It had to sink in real quick. After all, this wasn’t what we dreamed about – winning the Super Bowl is our ultimate goal.

Me: But you have to admit, finally beating the New England Patriots in the playoffs had to feel pretty darn good. I always marveled at how the Patriots played the Yankees to your Red Sox, when for 86 years, the New England fan base made a living – even forged an identity – out of being someone’s bitch. As a Yankee fan, the New England Patriots helped me appreciate why everyone hates me.

Dungy: I’d be lying if I said it doesn’t feel like we got a monkey off our backs by beating the Pats.

Me: Are you calling Bill Belichick a monkey?

Dungy: No.

Me: I think that monkeys dress better than Bill Belichick, and monkeys, in general, don’t wear clothes.

Dungy: I didn’t call him a monkey.

Me: Coach, how many idiots in Miami have confused you for Herm Edwards? Are people really that stupid?

Dungy: Nobody yet, but it does happen pretty often.

Me: I’ve always said that you look like Herm Edwards if Herm Edwards didn’t eat for seven months, and had a moderate idea about how to coach a football team.

Dungy: Herm is my friend. I think he is a great coach.

Me: People love Tony Dungy. Every writer, announcer, player, and opposing coach consistently goes out of his way to mention what a great guy you are. Tell me something naughty about yourself; something that would make the general public completely reevaluate their opinion of you.

Dungy: I’m not sure if that’s the best PR move, but…what the heck. Let’s see…something naughty…okay, okay! One time, when I was in Tampa, I told a beat guy to “get out of my face” or “I’d fix his wagon!” I never did follow through on that threat though, and I sent him a fruit basket the next day.

Me:…

Dungy: Alright, alright, let me think. Oh! This one time, at band camp, I stuck my flute in my friend’s locker, and told the composer that I lost it. I hated the flute. I was more of a trumpet kind of guy.

Me: Wow, that reeks of “E! True Hollywood Story” material. But what about the time you called Bill Belichick a monkey?

Dungy: I never said that. Geez, I didn’t want to have to say this, but do you need your wagon fixed?

Me: This is going nowhere - let’s move on. Coach Dungy, the person you’ve been most closely associated with throughout this most recent stage of your career – besides Herm Edwards – is Peyton Manning, your quarterback. Talk about your relationship, without any man-tears, please.

Dungy: Peyton and I have a great working relationship. It’s give-and-take, really. Peyton and [offensive coordinator] Tom [Moore] go over all the plays, Peyton executes those plays on the field, and I stand and watch.

Me: I was reminded of the special bond between you and your quarterback during last year’s divisional playoff loss to the Steelers, when you sent out the punting unit on a fourth down play, and Peyton actually called you off, and decided to go for it instead. Is your give-and-take relationship defined as, you give up control, and Peyton Manning takes it?

Dungy: No, no, it’s not like that at all. In fact, I have a lot of say in what goes on offensively. For example, if Peyton doesn’t like a particular defensive formation, and is forced to call a timeout, he’ll come over to the sidelines, and we’ll openly discuss what to do. I’ll say something like, “Maybe we should run it to the outside here,” and he’ll be like, “You’re right coach – we should throw it deep to Marvin.” Like I said, give-and-take.

Me: During your tenure in Tampa Bay, you acquired a reputation as a defensive-minded coach. Then you came to Indianapolis and the defense was always your Achilles heel. Then last year the defense was pretty good, but not good enough to shut down Pittsburgh. Then this year the defense regressed into an abyss of horrendousness, only to rebound in time to get you where you are right now, which is in the back booth of a Ruby Tuesdays, waiting to play in the Super Bowl. Please explain. Or at least draw me a graph or something.

Dungy: It’s been tough, ya’ know? Coming here, with guys like Peyton and Marvin [Harrison] and Edgerrin [James], the offense was always going to outshine the defense. But even though we’ve been inconsistent at times, I think our defense has improved leaps and bounds from when I first got here.

Me: Isn’t saying “inconsistent at times” kind of redundant?

Dungy: Possibly.

Me: You mentioned Edgerrin James. He leaves town for the straight cash homey, and now you guys are in the Super Bowl with a rookie and a perennial backup as your running back tandem. On my scorecard, I have, “Colts: 1 Edgerrin James: 0.” Is that how you scored it?

Dungy: I don’t look at it like that. Not having Edgerrin James is not the reason we’re here today. We’re here despite not having him around, which says a lot about this team.

Me: What about the idiot kicker, Mike Vanderjagt? Is it safe to say that you guys are going to the Super Bowl specifically because he is not around?

Dungy: Again, I don’t look at it like that. But yes.

Me: Coach Dungy, thanks so much for stopping by. And good luck in the big game next weekend! I hear Prince is gonna be there, so you’re not going to want to disappoint.

Dungy: It’s funny you should bring him up. Remember my bad camp story? Well, it was Prince’s locker that I hid my flute in! Prince and I were real close growing up, and remain good friends. In fact, I actually helped him right “Cream.”

Me: Wow, that is a naughty song!

Dungy: It is. It really is.


Tony Dungy: Closer to football heaven than Jeff Fisher, but he's no Steve Mariucci...

NFC Playoff coach’s corner: Sean Payton

Instead of flooding the market with “previews,” or rambling on incessantly about “facts,” I’ve decided instead to delve into the NFL Playoffs by fake interviewing a few of the big-name coaches who will be prominently involved. Coaches, after all, are very important, because they make a lot of money, and are crucial to the success of their respective football team. Without coaches, armies of helmeted men would all be aimlessly wandering the streets, wondering what time it was, and how they got there. In that respect, we’re going to sit down with a very important coach to discuss the upcoming weekend of the NFL Playoffs. This week’s imaginary participant: New Orleans Saints’ head coach Sean Payton.

Me: Coach Payton, thanks so much for stopping by.

Payton: My pleasure.

Me: I realize we’re in the middle of the playoffs right now, which may not be the opportune time to bring up individual awards, but…you won an individual award this season, did you not? The “Greatest Football Coach Ever Since Jim Haslet Award.” Fairly prestigious, no?

Payton: You’re too kind. I was honored to receive the “Coach of the Year” award this season.

Me: You received 44 out of a possible 50 votes, with another first-year head coach – Eric Mangini – coming in second with a measly three votes, which is just pathetic, and only three more than Art Shell received. Did Mangini eat his way out of contention?

Payton: I don’t think girth falls under the criteria for the award. Eric is a great coach.

Me: So let me get this straight. Mangini has the gall to coach well in the same league that you coach in – what an idiot! – so you beat him 44-3 in COY voting. You beat Parcells – your one-time mentor – and the Cowboys 42-17. And you beat the Giants – where you spent some time as an assistant under Jim “My Assistant Can Coach Circles Around Me” Fassel – 30-7. Is it fair to say that anyone who falls under your general wrath should prepare themselves for some sort of public embarrassment in the near future?

Payton: I was never really looking for revenge on anyone, we were just fortunate enough to play so well during those games. I owe a lot of my professional success to Bill and the Giants organization.

Me: So, when you leave the Saints, how badly are you going to destroy them for screwing you over?

Payton: I have no plans to leave the New Orleans Saints.

Me: You’re starting to sound a little bit like Nick Saban. Call me crazy, but I’m not going to sit here and take a head coach’s word for it. Prove to me that you will never leave the Saints. Right now. Prove it. Do it.

Payton: All right, but you asked for it…

Me: What…what the heck are you doing? Why are you…why are you pulling your pants down? What the hell is going on? Please get your ass out of my face…Wait, what is - Is that a…a Fleur de Lis tattoo? Two Fleur de Lis tattoos?! One for each cheek? Wow…I stand corrected.

Payton: These things don’t come off so easily, ya’ know?

Me: Yeah, tell that to the Marvin the Martian tattoo I got on my inner thigh back in college. Stupid gin & tonics.

Payton: I hear ya’.

Me: Okay, so we’ve established that you’re definitely committed to this organization. Next question: Prove it.

Payton: Didn’t we just…

Me: Wait, wait…my fault, my bad. I forgot we went through this already. Forgot about the tat. Sorry about that. What the heck was my next question? Oh – Reggie Bush! You guys drafted Reggie Bush. Prove it.

Payton: Ummm, he’s on our roster? He plays every single week? He’s got a uniform and everything…

Me: I’m sorry, I’m sorry…I’m all mixed up over here. What I wanted to ask you was…When the Texans drafted Mario Williams instead of Reggie Bush, did you have a non-sexual orgasm? I’m pretty sure I would have, in that situation.

Payton: We were very excited.

Me: Besides Reggie Bush, much ado has been made about the turnover from last season’s team. The only people you’ve kept from the 2005 New Orleans Saints are Deuce McAllister and one of the concession stand workers, and that’s only because that dude is Deuce McAllister’s cousin or something. What about the whole Jim Haslet/Aaron Brooks era screamed, “Maybe we should start over?” Was it the losing? I’ll bet you it was the losing.

Payton: Sure, the losing had a lot to do with it. There was a culture of failure around here, and we had to come in and change that.

Me: A big part of that change was bringing in quarterback Drew Brees. In the offseason, you had your choice between Brees and Daunte Culpepper, who were both coming off serious injuries. How difficult was it to choose between a crippled yet consistent winning QB, and a crippled one-year wonder who played a starring role in a sex-boat drama? I’m sure you agonized over that one for like, minutes.

Payton: We liked Drew from the start, and to say that decision has worked out well is an understatement.

Me: You just gave me an idea. Let’s play the understatement game. I’ll go first, and then you respond with another understatement. Replacing Aaron Brooks with Drew Brees was a moderate upgrade.

Payton: Ahem…I agree. Because passing the football forward is often more productive than passing it backwards. Okay, okay, my turn. This interview is lacking in substantiated dialogue.

Me: Okaaay…ummm…That is because my subject is as bland as James Blunt eating an unsalted cracker.

Payton: That seemed like an overstatement to me.

Me: Whatever. I don’t want to play this game anymore. Let’s move on. Coach, the entire free world, including South Dakota, is pulling for the New Orleans Saints this year. Not only is your team almost as likeable as the New York Giants, but the Saints have also come to represent the resolve that the city of New Orleans has shown in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. That is some serious stuff, right there. Are you concerned about letting the entire free world down by not winning your next football game?

Payton: See, I think the New Orleans Saints are already a great story, no matter what happens the rest of the way. We went from 3-13 to 10-6, and we’ve laid the foundation of a great team for years to come. We don’t need to win the Super Bowl to feel vindicated.

Me: Hmmm, seems like a cop-out to me. Now, I’m not usually one to delve into politics, but let me ask you this: Which Bush has done more for the city of New Orleans – Reggie, Gavin Rossdale, or George W?

Payton: That’s easy. Reggie. He’s embraced this city from Day One, which is more than I can say for the prez. And I’m pretty sure Gavin Rossdale started a new band or something. Sellout.

Me: Coach, look me in the eyes as I say this: The New Orleans Saints are playing in the NFC Championship Game this weekend, for a right to go to the Super Bowl.

Payton: …now what?

Me: You were supposed to react dramatically to that statement, and say something like, “Wow, it never really sunk in until hearing you say that. Really, this is a dream come true…Somebody pinch me!” And then I would pinch you, confirm that you’re real, and then turn to the camera and say, “It’s not a dream, folks. Chuck & Dottie, back to you in the studio.” Have you ever been interviewed before?

Payton: But there aren’t any cameras here. And who are Chuck & Dotty?

Me: Whatever, it doesn’t matter now. You ruined it.

Payton: Sorry.

Me: Good luck this weekend, Coach. The free world is pulling for you. If I were you, I’d pretend that I used to coach the Bears.

Payton: Ya’ know what? I did have a bad travel experience in Chicago once…

Me: Uh, oh…I smell a blowout.


Hmmm...Brees does look good, but Culpepper DID purify the waters of Lake Minnetonka. Ah, screw it - we're going with Brees.

NFC Playoff coach’s corner: Lovie Smith

Instead of flooding the market with “previews,” or rambling on incessantly about “facts,” I’ve decided instead to delve into the NFL Playoffs by interviewing a few of the big-name coaches who will be prominently involved. Coaches, after all, are very important, because they make a lot of money, and are crucial to the success of their respective football team. Without coaches, armies of helmeted men would all be aimlessly wandering the streets, wondering what time it was, and how they got there. In that respect, we’re going to sit down with a very important coach to discuss the upcoming weekend of the NFL Playoffs. This week’s participant: Chicago Bears’ head coach Lovie Smith.

Me: Welcome, Lovie Smith!

Lovie: Thanks for having me.

Me: Lovie…huh. Strange name for a man who hovers over a franchise that’s reputed for its toughness, and general hunting skills. I always fashioned coaches of the Chicago Bears to have more manly names, like Mike Dik-ta, and Dick Jauron. Are you a child bred out of Woodstock?

Lovie: I am named after my grandfather. And it’s “Ditka.”

Me: So your grandfather’s name was Dik-ta Lovie? That is fascinating. He must have been quite the ladies man.

Lovie: That was not his name. You are not understanding what I’m saying, and you are consistently mispronouncing Coach Ditka’s name. Do you understand English?

Me: Me fail English? That’s unpossible!

Lovie:…

Me: Sorry, that was a quote from “The Simpsons.” Do you watch “The Simpsons,” Lovie? It used to be an awesome show, but now it kind of blows. You can catch it on Sunday nights though.

Lovie: I am usually busy on Sundays.

Me: It’s also on in syndication during the week. That’s usually when you can see one of the episodes from Seasons Five through Nine, before the show fell off a creative cliff.

Lovie: I will make a note of that.

Me: Lovie, let’s talk some football. For the second straight season, you enter the playoffs with a brilliant, dominating football team. And Rex Grossman. Are you simply trying to discover if there is such a thing as a negative quarterback rating? Because the playoffs would seem like an inopportune time for such experiments.

Lovie: Rex is a fine quarterback. I am confident he will lead us to victory.

Me: Really? You sound like the captain of the Titanic telling everybody that things are going along smoothly.

Lovie: I do not appreciate that analogy.

Me: I’m sorry, that was rude and insensitive. Let’s move on. Lovie, the job you have done coaching this team has truly fascinated me. You have had a controversy at virtually every offensive skill position for the past two years, yet you keep winning games. I mean, Grossman’s ass is red from perpetually being on the hot seat, Thomas Jones and Cedric Benson continue to battle for carries – with neither of them exactly excelling at their craft - and all of your receivers become irrelevant when Rex is chucking the ball to the other team. How have you managed to corral the egos of guys who shouldn’t have any egos to begin with?

Lovie: We’ve adopted a “team first” philosophy. Egos are checked at the door around here.

Me: Who is responsible for checking these egos? Do the players receive a ticket, whereupon they can retrieve their egos when they leave, so they can feel confident when they go to the nightclub later on?

Lovie: It was just a figure of speech.

Me: I see. Speaking of nightclubs, Tank Johnson. Yikes. I mean…whoa. It was almost as if Tank Johnson was trying to outdo the entire Cincinnati Bengals team in a three-day span. Were you impressed with his success in that endeavor?

Lovie: I’m not sure if “success” is the word I would use there.

Me: Interesting. Lovie, they say that, “the best offense is a good defense.” However, your Bears’ team has seemed to grasp this term very literally in that, your defense actually seems to score more than your offense. Have you considered not playing offense altogether?

Lovie: You have to play offense.

Me: Is that in the rulebook?

Lovie: I imagine that it is.

Me: Maybe you should double-check. Because personally, I think it would be totally awesome to like, return an interception for a touchdown, and then be like, “Hey, other team…why don’t you guys take the ball again? No, seriously! It’s cool with us. We don’t mind. Here, take it.”

Lovie: Again, I am pretty sure that is illegal, though I appreciate the backhanded compliment.

Me: Hey, while we’re thanking each other, let me to thank you for allowing the running back situation to turn into an all-out tandem. Seriously, that really helped my fantasy team. And by “helped,” I mean killed. I mean, I can’t tell you how much I appreciated having Thomas Jones run an entire drive, and then get replaced at the two-yard line so Cedric Benson could score the touchdown. Really, that was awesome! Loved that. Or, the times when Jones had like, 76 yards rushing, and then just wouldn’t go into the game for like, the rest of the game. Those we also great times for me.

Lovie: I apologize for that. I should have made it a point to model my offense around your fantasy football team this year.

Me: Don’t get smart with me, Lovie! Between Rex Grossman and that running back crap, you ruined quite a few fantasy football seasons, buddy! What’s the deal with all of you coaches, anyway? Why can’t you just stick with one running back for crying out loud?

Lovie: It’s good to switch up the style. Thomas and Cedric are two different kinds of runner.

Me: Style? What style? You hand them the ball, you say, “Follow your blocks, and run for the freakin’ endzone!” That’s it. Style…gimmie a break. This isn’t “Impressionist Hour at the Guggenheim” we’re talking about here. It’s football.

Lovie: You seem to know a lot about the NFL. What team did you play for?

Me: I played quarterback for the Carolina Panthers last year. I was the white guy with the stupid haircut. We beat you in the playoffs on your home field, remember?

Lovie: Touché.

Me: There seems to be a lot of tension between us, Lovie. Let’s lighten the mood a little bit, shall we? Okay…Boxers or briefs?

Lovie: Neither.

Me: Yikes. Demi Moore in 1992, or Demi Moore in 2006?

Lovie: 1992. Definitely. I prefer my women less genetically enhanced.

Me: Couldn’t agree more. See, we’re getting along! Okay, Dots or Starburst?

Lovie: Are you serious? Starburst! Those stupid Dots get stuck in your teeth for like, months at a time. I ate a couple of those things this past Halloween, and I just flossed the last of it out last night!

Me: You’re preaching to the choir, Lovie. Alright, Thomas Jones or Cedric Benson?

Lovie: Both.

Me: Darn it, Lovie! Why can’t you give me a straight answer! Okay, okay…let me just calm down…take a deep breath…okay, I’m back. Ya’ know what Lovie, now that I think about, it may be that kind of fortitude that has kept the Chicago Bears so dominant all season long, regardless of any outside criticism. You are truly a man of substance, Lovie Smith.

Lovie: Thank you.

Me: De nada. Before we go Lovie, you guys face the Seattle Seahawks this weekend, at home, in the playoffs. How confident are you right now as compared to how confident you’ll be when you see that Rex Grossman special playoff shade of white, where he starts to appear as if he hasn’t seen the sun in 12 years, or for that matter, a defensive scheme more complex than that of Tecmo Bowl ’92? Will you then at least consider my idea of not playing offense? Because I’ll be honest – as fun as it is to watch you guys go three-and-out on 18 consecutive possessions, I’d prefer to watch Ricky Manning, Jr. running around trying to take somebody’s head off in a desperate attempt to put some points on the board. But hey - that’s just me.

Lovie: For the last time, we have to play offense. He does get pretty white, though…you’re right. I guess a last-second change at quarterback is not, oh how should I put this…unpossible.

Me: Nice.

Lovie: Thank you.


Noooo! I'm not wearing any underwear!

NFC Playoff coach’s corner: Mike Holmgren

Instead of flooding the market with “previews,” or rambling on incessantly about “facts,” I’ve decided instead to delve into the NFL Playoffs by interviewing a few of the big-name coaches who will be prominently involved. Coaches, after all, are very important, because they make a lot of money, and are crucial to the success of their respective football team. Without coaches, armies of helmeted men would all be aimlessly wandering the streets, wondering what time it was, and how they got there. In that respect, we’re going to sit down with a very important coach to discuss the upcoming weekend of the NFL Playoffs. This week’s participant: Seattle Seahawks’ head coach Mike Holmgren.

Me: Welcome, coach! Have a seat…

Holmgren: Thanks for having me.

Me: If it’s okay, I am going to call you “coach” for the duration of this interview, for a few reasons. First, my name is also “Mike” and I don’t want our audience to get confused. Second, you seem like the kind of guy who demands to be called “coach” at all times, even from the waitresses at Applebee’s. Lastly – and I’m sure you get this all the time – you have a “Craig T. Nelson”-like presence on the sidelines. I respect that.

Holmgren: You can call me coach.

Me: Coach, let’s get right down to it. Your team has been kind of crappy this year. Do you blame the referees?

Holmgren: Not entirely. We’ve dealt with a lot of injuries, and it’s taken us a while to find our groove.

Me: Injuries are so annoying, am I right? Have you considered telling your players to not get injured?

Holmgren: I hadn’t thought of that.

Me: Coach, other teams bitch and whine about injuries, but they’re often being stupid. Like, I hate when a coach is like, “Oh, no, we lost our starting right guard, Bart Johnson! That’s really gonna hurt us!” That’s just being stupid, because nobody gives a crap about Bart Johnson. You, on the other hand, have lost your starting running back - also last year’s MVP - your starting quarterback, and No. 1 wide receiver for significant periods of time. That must feel good for you, because you love to complain. This has undoubtedly given you an edge when you argue with other coaches at cocktail parties as to who has had the most misfortune this season, thus deflecting any personal responsibility.

Holmgren: I don’t go to cocktail parties.

Me: That was a bad example…I forgot that you can’t eat cocktails. Pizza parties?

Holmgren: I eat pizza by myself, in bed, watching game tapes.

Me: That is nasty. But back to the injuries. Shaun Alexander’s foot injury kind of came out of nowhere, and my stupid brother-in-law found out first, and picked up Maurice Morris off the waiver wire. Pretty sneaky, sis. Anyhoo, did you not know how bad the injury was at first, or did you downplay it initially, just to screw over the entire fantasy football-playing universe?

Holmgren: We did not know how bad it was at first. Feet are tough appendages to evaluate.

Me: Tell me about it. When you looked out onto the field in the middle of the year, and saw Seneca Wallace handing off to Maurice Morris, did you want to curl up into a little ball, and roll yourself off a cliff? Because that’s the kind of face you were making on the sidelines, the “just kill me now…seriously, shoot me” face.

Holmgren: I always have that face on.

Me: That’s true. What’s up with that?

Holmgren: I’m a perfectionist, and I’m always noticing all of the things we’re doing wrong.

Me: Like losing to the 49ers?

Holmgren: Yes, losing to the 49ers really gets my goad.

Me: Yeah, I...wait - get's your what?

Holmgren: My goad.

Me: I thought it was goat. Like, "gets my goat."

Holmgren: That doesn't make any sense.

Me: Neither does goad. What's a goad?

Holmgren: I'm not sure. But when we lose to the 49ers, I feel a sharp pain in the goad region.

Me: I can't tell if you're being serious, or a dick, so let's move on. Let’s talk about your quarterback, Matt Hasselbeck. I never thought I’d see the day when an extremely bald quarterback named Hasselbeck was doing “Chunky Soup” commercials. Is he cool now? And if so, why?

Holmgren: Matt is a great, young quarterback. I always believed in him, dating back to our Green Bay days, and he’s rewarded my loyalty ten fold. He is very cool.

Me: You also lost a Super Bowl with Brett Favre as your quarterback. That guy used to be the coolest man on the planet. Now, Matt Hasselbeck is doing “Chunky Soup” commercials and Brett Favre is doing ads for erectile dysfunction. The pendulum has swung. Did you swing it?

Holmgren: I don’t think the commercials Brett does are for erectile dysfunction. They’re for like, acid reflux or something.

Me: Whatever. I mean, how am I supposed to know what those commercials are for? “Ask about the purple pill,” “Take the yellow pill,” “Consult your doctor if you have herpes.” And there’s so many innuendos in those commercials, like when Brett is throwing the football through the tire, ya’ know?

Holmgren: No, no…Brett just throws the ball over the lake in his commercial. It’s the other commercial where the guy throws it through the tire. And that guy throws like a girl.

Me: Oh yeeaaaahhhh. My bad. I like the parts when Brett is chopping down trees, and then he has all of his African American teammates over to eat crawfish, to prove that he is not a racist hick. He makes me want to have acid reflux.

Holmgren: See, Brett’s still a pretty cool guy!

Me: I guess you’re right. Wow, we got off track there for a while. Anyway, ummm…say something football-related.

Holmgren: 3-4 defense.

Me: I agree. Speaking of football, Jerramy Stevens is your tight end. He is best known for having too many “r’s” in his name and for dropping every single pass thrown to him. Have you considered replacing him with a tight end that doesn’t have cinder blocks for hands?

Holmgren: Jerramy has certainly struggled over the past year or so. But we believe in him, and we’re going to need him to come through during the playoffs.

Me: I wouldn’t count on it. Speaking of the playoffs, you guys are in them. How did that happen?

Holmgren: To be honest, I’m not quite sure. Normally, I’d say we’re here because we play in the awful NFC West, but we lost to the Cardinals once and San Francisco twice. And all my guys have been injured this year. I really don’t know how we got here. I guess I’ll say, “coaching.”

Me: Coach, your team plays the Dallas Cowboys this Saturday in the first round of said playoffs. Are you looking forward to exacting revenge against Terrell Owens?

Holmgren: For what? Terrell Owens never played on this team.

Me: Wait - didn’t you used to coach the Eagles?

Holmgren: No. You are thinking of Andy Reid, who still coaches the Eagles. The two of us are often confused, but usually only by people who are idiots.

Me: Interesting. Regardless, Terrell Owens must have done something to upset the chemistry of the Seahawks at some point. Didn’t he murder Steve Largent or something?

Holmgren: Not that I know of.

Me: Agree to disagree. Coach, between Terrell Owens and Jerramy Stevens, how many footballs do you envision falling to the ground on Saturday? A million? A zillion?

Holmgren: Maybe like, four or five.

Me: Do you think your team will be able to pull a “Pittsburgh Steelers,” and crawl into the playoffs only to run the table and beat the Seattle Seahawks in the Super Bowl?

Holmgren: That Super Bowl never happened. We were robbed by the stupid refs, I tell you! ROBBED!

Me: Glad to see you are still taking that loss in stride. Well, better luck this year. And take it easy on the pizzas, big guy. You don’t need to be getting acid reflux.

Holmgren: Too late. Stupid referees. But hey - it’s better than erectile dysfunction, am I right?

Me: Ummm…I wouldn’t know. I can throw a football through a tire, all right buddy! Well, most of the time...


That's a catch, you idiot! And my NAME is "COACH!"

A sitdown with: Jason Kidd

I’ve been receiving a lot of flack around here lately for ignoring the New Jersey Nets. Apparently, there are at least several people in the area who are fans of the Nets, which, I have to admit – I did not know. People are funny like that sometimes, like when they root for the Nets. The major sentiment among Nets’ fans is – they’re the local team, an actual New Jersey team, and they deserve our support. Also, they happen to be one of the better teams in the NBA. Okay. Counterpoint: They’re the Nets. They’ve been a brutal franchise for a quarter century, and now that they’re good, they’re most likely abandoning the Garden State for Brooklyn. Whatever side you may fall on, it is true that I have not paid them their due attention over these past few years, and thus, I’ve failed as a journa-…person. To make up for it, I’ve contacted the Nets’ super-duper guard Jason Kidd for an exclusive interview. He was as surprised as I was to find out about these “Nets fans,” and thus, agreed to sit down.

Me: Hey Jason! Welcome…

Kidd: Thanks for having me.

Me: J-Kidd, can I call you “J-Kidd?” My brain now automatically manufactures nicknames that are nothing other than the first letter of someone’s first name, combined with at least a part of their last name. Since your last name is only one syllable anyway, I literally had to put no thought into that whatsoever, which is perfect for me.

Kidd: Whatever.

Me: J-Kidd, you’ve been known to make everyone around you better. Do you think you can try your best to make me better today? Because I’ve done absolutely no preparation for this interview. I’m a mess, honestly. I left my cell phone at 7-Eleven this morning, and I’m totally hung over. You play for the Nets, right?

Kidd: Yep.

Me: What’s that like?

Kidd: It’s fun, I guess.

Me: Nice. You started your NBA career playing for the Dallas Mavericks, where you formed a rap group called the “J boys,” featuring yourself, Jamal Mashburn, and what’s-his-name Jackson. Do you remember that?

Kidd: It wasn’t a rap group, and it sure as heck wasn’t called the “J boys.” It was something the media had dubbed the three of us – Triple J – and yeah, it was me, Mash, and Jimmy Jackson.

Me: It didn’t really work out for you and the J boys though, did it? You know what they say about too many guys whose name begins with “J” trying to play basketball together…

Kidd: No, I don’t. What?

Me: I don’t know either. That they suck? I thought maybe you would know. Geez, J-Kidd, so far, you are not making this interview better.

Kidd: My bad.

Me: Of course you’re aware of the long-standing rumor that it was singer Toni Braxton that broke up the J boys. Tell me about that.

Kidd: Never heard of her.

Me: Of course not. Janet Jackson seemed to be the obvious choice there. Way to mess that up. Okay, then. After a forgettable stint with the Phoenix Suns, you were traded to the Nets for Stephon Marbury. How did it feel to be traded for the best point guard ever? A big ego boost, I’m sure.

Kidd: For him, maybe.

Me: In your first game as a Net, you shattered Yinka Dare’s career assist record. Was this a harbinger of things to come? And if so, what is a harbinger?

Kidd: I think it’s like, foreshadowing or something. But yeah, I think it was. I mean, we started off so strong back in 2002, that we forced people to take us seriously right out of the gate. From that point on, we were able to keep it going.

Me: The Nets were always like, the worst franchise ever. Even the Arizona Cardinals would be like, “Man, the Nets stink.” But then you come along and – Kazaam! – you’re in the NBA Finals. Do you take all the credit for the recent Nets’ run of success, or just 95 percent of it?

Kidd: I’m just a small part of this whole thing. The success we’ve had recently has been a result of a lot of things – Rod Thorn making some great moves, Richard Jefferson emerging as a star, getting Vince, and great coaching. I’ve only accounted for like, 91 percent of this, honestly.

Me: You are dropping a triple-double of modesty on me right now, J-Kidd. Talk about your coach, Lawrence Frank. What does he do?

Kidd: He coaches us. What do you mean?

Me: Really though, look at him. What could he possibly tell you guys that you don’t already know? I always imagine your practices going something like,” Uhhh, J – yeah, run the ball up the floor, and…throw it to Vince. Vince – dunk it. If Vince isn’t open, give it to RJ. RJ – dunk it. Keep doing that. And Collins – make yourself useful and try and grab a rebound or something, will ya’? I’ll be back in two hours, I have to get my muffler fixed.”

Kidd: No, man. Coach doesn’t get nearly enough credit for the job he does. He keeps us running like a well-oiled machine.

Me: Here’s something I’ve always wanted to ask you. When the Nets drafted Richard Jefferson, did you talk to him on the phone, and were you like, “Okay. We’re getting Tom Gugliotta. I can live with that.” And then you actually saw him, and you were like, “Wait a second…”

Kidd: Honestly? Yeah! I was blown away. I thought we were getting a spot-up shooter, and then I see this guy whizzing around the court as if it were some kind of athletic ballet. After speaking to him on the phone, I wasn’t even thinking about alley-oops. So yeah, it was a great surprise.

Me: Let’s talk about you for a sec here. Before every foul shot, you blow a kiss into the air out of respect for the Notorious B.I.G. How did that start?

Kidd: That kiss is for my son.

Me: Oh, really? Is he a rapper?

Kidd: He’s eight.

Me: Interesting. Speaking of rappers, the owner of the Nets is a rapper, is he not? I keep hearing that he’s retired, but I see him everywhere. He must have a very different view of retirement than I do, which involves me, a couch, and boxes of Polly-O String Cheese.

Kidd: Yes, his name is Jay-Z. He’s a cool guy.

Me: Did you know that I’ve been writing a dope rhyme about the New Jersey Nets over the past few years? It’s not finished yet, though. Wanna hear it?

Kidd: Not really.

Me: The Nets are here / You better stand clear / We’re a well-oiled machine / Yo, watch me set this screen / Nenad Krstic, got his balls to the wall / Don’t (bleep) with Mile Illic, unless you wanna brawl / Marcus Williams, he’s a super shooter / He’ll steal the ball, and then your computer…That’s all I have right now.

Kidd: That’s hot.

Me: J-Kidd, you’ve had some – oh, how should I put this? – domestic issues. Are you hoping that everyone forgets about this by the time you are inducted into the Hall of Fame, kind of like what happened with Warren Moon? If so, sorry I brought it up.

Kidd: No, I don’t expect anyone to forget. I made a mistake and I apologized. That was a long time ago, and we’ve both moved on. It will never happen again.

Me: If I were you, I’d blow a kiss to my wife on that foul line too. Ya’ know, just in case.

Kidd: Just in case what?

Me: I don’t know. Forget I said anything. J-Kidd, when information surfaced that the Nets were most likely moving to Brooklyn, you stated that you had signed to play in New Jersey, not New York. How would it feel to abandon a fan base that can’t sellout a playoff game?

Kidd: Well, first of all, I don’t even know if we’re moving to Brooklyn anymore. Nobody knows anything, because nobody is saying anything. Do you know anything?

Me: Me? Geez, no. I don’t know anything. I could ask around, though. My in-laws are from Brooklyn – they might know something.

Kidd: Thanks, I’d appreciate that.

Me: No problem. J-Kidd, your New Jersey Nets are currently in first place in the Atlantic division, with an 8-12 overall record. Are you guys playing this crappy just to make Isiah think that his team is moderately competitive? Or, has nobody informed Vince Carter that he’s in a contract year? Maybe somebody should tell him, like, as soon as possible.

Kidd: We are working on playing better basketball. And Vince plays hard every game.

Me: By “every game” do you mean almost every game?

Kidd: Yes.

Me: Okay, one last question before we go, ya’ know, for all the Nets’ fans out there. Wink, wink. When are the Nets finally going to win a championship, so we can have that much-anticipated parade through the abandoned parking lots of East Rutherford, New Jersey?

Kidd: This year, man. This is the year we go all the way!

Me: Promise?

Kidd: No.

Me: Okay. Whatever. Can you drive me to 7-Eleven?

Chad Pennington disses critics, sets fire to haters

You may recall (or, then again, maybe not) that I penned a column last year basically claiming that we had all seen the last of one Chad Pennington. Well, never one to shy away from being 100 percent incorrect, I stand by that story. However, it has come to my attention that Pennington is back in the NFL – still with the Jets – and actually playing pretty darn well. This was difficult for me to believe, especially considering that the last time I saw him, his right arm was dangling from his right shoulder, joined only by a piece of dental floss lent to him by Michael Strahan. So, in order to get to the bottom of this story, I had to go to the source. Not the hip-hop magazine The Source – they had never heard of Pennington, but gave him two-and-a-half mics based on the information I provided – but Pennington himself. He was kind enough to sit down for a fake interview…

Me: Chad! Get the heck in here, you big lug!

Chad: Hey, thanks for having me.

Me: Chad, let’s get down to business here, because I have a lot of things to do later. How does it feel to prove all the critics wrong, especially that racist Rush Limbaugh?

Chad: Ummm, wait – I think it was Donovan McNabb who was criticized by Rush Limbaugh. And that happened like, three or four years ago.

Me: Interesting. So nothing that he said about you being an overrated black quarterback bothered you?

Chad: I’m white.

Me: See, Rush Limbaugh would make a mistake like that. He’s a drug addict, ya’ know. But what about all the non-racist critics, who claimed that you would never throw a football again?

Chad: Well, to be honest, I don’t blame them. There was a point last season, and even earlier this year, when I questioned how effective I could be throwing the football after this latest injury. But I just worked hard to get through it, and here I am.

Me: Chad, speaking of injuries, it says here that you have had…38 surgeries in the past, ummm, week. Is that correct?

Chad: No, that is inaccurate. And also impossible.

Me: I’m sorry – I read that wrong. My assistant is an idiot, and has messy handwriting. I knew it didn’t sound right when I said it. Okay, how many weeks did it take to have all those surgeries?

Chad: Well, I haven’t had 38 surgeries, first of all. I broke my wrist a few years ago, and had surgery on that, and I’ve had two shoulder operations over the past two years. That’s really it.

Me: Is it your dream one day to have a surgery named after you, like Tommy John? Like, wouldn’t it be cool, in a few years or so, to see on the ESPN ticker, “Joe Montana Jr. to have Chad Pennington surgery, will miss remainder of season?”

Chad: I would say that my goals are more football-related, and have very little to do with having surgeries named after me. Besides, Tommy John surgery was a medical breakthrough – all of mine were pretty standard.

Me: Do you blame the Jets for bringing you back too early from shoulder problems last year, and thus jeopardizing your entire career? I would be pissed, personally.

Chad: Not at all. It was my idea to come back – I felt ready to go. It just didn’t work out.

Me: Who is a better coach - Eric Mangini or Herm Edwards?

Chad: I can’t really compare the two. They both have strong qualities, and are both great coaches. Right now, I’m on board with Coach Mangini, but I think Herm is doing a great job in Kansas City.

Me: Ummm, you were supposed to laugh at that last question – not answer it. It was a joke. Okay, try this one instead: Who is a better coach – Herm Edwards or a cardboard cutout of Richard Nixon?

Chad: Herm Edwards, definitely.

Me: Did they remove your sense of humor by accident during your latest surgery?

Chad: Not that I’m aware of. Maybe you just aren’t as funny as you think you are.

Me: Touché. Let’s move on. Minus the Jacksonville game from a couple of weeks ago, you have played excellent football this season. Many people have even said that you look like the “old Chad Pennington.” What does that mean? And if there is an “old” you, then how old are you now? Are you 50 years old? 60?

Chad: I am 30 years old. I think when people refer to the “old” me, they’re just referring to how I played in the past when I was healthy. And that’s the key to my “resurgence,” or whatever you want to call it. I’m healthy. I feel great, and that’s the reason why I’m playing well.

Me: When the Jets “locked up” Patrick Ramsey in the offseason, did you view that as a threat to your standing within the organization, or did you immediately remind yourself that this is Patrick Ramsey we’re talking about, and continue to finish your beer?

Chad: I didn’t think anything of it, to be honest. The Jets made an organizational move, and they have every right to do so. They couldn’t wait on me, and just bank on the fact that I’d be 100 percent come September. Besides, Patrick is a real good quarterback.

Me: Ha, ha! See, you do have a sense of humor!

Chad: What?

Me: Chad, do you know that two weeks ago, you were my starting fantasy quarterback? Yeah, seriously! Not that I’d ever start you regularly, but Peyton Manning had a bye. I had originally drafted Chris Simms as my backup, but then he went and ruptured his insides, so I picked you up off the waiver wire. You got me 23 points! I dropped you the next day.

Chad: Wow…I’m honored, I think.

Me: Chad, much ado has been made of your lack of arm strength. Some were even upset that, during the closing moments of your game against the Patriots in Week 2, you weren’t replaced for a quarterback that could throw a “Hail Mary” pass more than 15 yards. How does it feel that your career choice involved throwing a football for a living, but your biggest weakness is throwing a football?

Chad: I think too much has been made of it. For one thing, my arm is stronger than people realize. I mean, I did throw to Randy Moss in college. And besides, throwing the deep ball is barely a fraction of the responsibilities a quarterback has, and I think I handle my other duties pretty well.

Me: Who is Randy Moss?

Chad: Are you serious?

Me: No. That was also a joke. You’re killing me here, Chad. Talk about Eric Mangini, the man who attended the “Bill Belichick School of Coaching,” and then transferred to the “Bill Parcells School of Eating.”

Chad: Eric Mangini, if he’s not already, is going to be a great coach. He’s learning along with the rest of us, but he’s given this team an identity, and a toughness. He’s great for the Jets, and for the NFL.

Me: Rank these man boobs in order: Mangini, Parcells, Phil Mickelson.

Chad: I’d prefer not to.

Me: Chad, I know you’re the kind of guy who loves to speak his mind, and make bold predictions. Make a prediction for the Jets this year – Super Bowl winner, or Super Bowl runner-up?

Chad: Whoa, that’s getting way ahead of things. I’ll say, if I can stay healthy, and our team continues to learn this system, we’ll be very competitive.

Me: Wow, are you sure you want to say that? I smell some controversy a-brewing…

Chad: What…why? What did you write down?

Me: I wrote, “Pennington blasts Mangini’s man boobs, guarantees extreme competitiveness.”

Chad: Whatever.

Me: Thanks for stopping by, Chad. You are definitely not as black and overrated as some people claim.

Chad: Thanks. That means a lot.

Tom Coughlin pumps up the blogosphere

It’s difficult enough to get an interview with Giants’ head coach Tom Coughlin in the offseason, so you can imagine my surprise when he agreed to sit down with me during the chaos of the regular season! And while the perception of Coughlin is that he has the personality of a mouse pad, you will see – he’s actually pretty lively. It should also be noted that while this interview is 100 percent accurate, it is also equally fake. Anyway, on with the interview…

Me: Welcome, Mr. Coughlin! Have a seat…

Coughlin: Thank you.

Me: Can I tell you something?

Coughlin: Go ahead.

Me: I’ve been sitting here for the past four hours, because last night I was having nightmares that I’d be late for your interview, and that you’d berate me in front of everybody.

Coughlin: Wow…Well, that’s real nice of you, but I try not to berate anyone except my own players. Plus, there’s nobody here to berate you in front of.

Me: Yeah, I know, but it was a dream, and dreams are freakin’ weird sometimes, ya’ know? Like, in the dream, it was YOU, ya’ know, but it wasn’t really you. You were my eighth grade math teacher. But it was you. You were wearing those old school blue sweatpants with the word “Giants” in red down the side of the leg. I miss those sweatpants – I used to have a pair back in the day. Do you remember those?

Coughlin: Maybe we should move on here.

Me: Good idea. Eli Manning…regrets?

Coughlin: Certainly not. Eli is one of the fine young quarterbacks in the NFL right now. He led us to the playoffs last season, and we’re looking forward to years of future success with him running the offense.

Me: Who throws a tighter spiral – Eli Manning or Uncle Rico, of “Napoleon Dynamite” fame?

Coughlin: I never saw that movie, but I’d put my money on Eli.

Me: What?! You never saw “Napoleon Dynamite?!” That is freakin’ crazy! You gotta see it…seriously. I mean, I’m sure the game tape of last season’s playoff loss to Carolina is hilarious, but this movie is even better. Trust me.

Coughlin: Again, we should move on here.

Me: Actually, now that I think about it, you seem like the kind of guy who would be utterly confused by that movie. Maybe you should rent “Cheaper by the Dozen” instead. That seems more up your ally. Too many kids running around is crazy, am I right?

Coughlin: …

Me: Okay. Before the NFL released its schedule for this season, did they call you up and tell you to bend over?

Coughlin: I have to admit, I was fairly surprised when I saw the schedule for the first time. The NFL certainly didn’t give us any breaks this year. But we’re not going to use that as an excuse. We just have to go out there and win.

Me: Really though, how does it feel to be punished by the NFL for having a good season? Usually, the powers that be do everything they can to make big market teams succeed. But in the Giants’ case, they were like, “Hey, great game against Carolina! Just for that, here’s the Colts, at Philly, and at Seattle to start things off! Good luck!” Complete bastards, no?

Coughlin: Like I said, we just have to go out and win the games.

Me: When do you plan on executing that plan?

Coughlin: We’re 1-1.

Me: Barely.

Coughlin: Next question.

Me: Was that your Drew Rosenhaus impression? If so, nice!

Coughlin: It was not.

Me: That was a great comeback this past Sunday by the Giants in Philadelphia. Have you considered asking the team to play four quarters instead of one and a half?

Coughlin: Playing a full four quarters is always the game plan. Sometimes it’s the execution that fails.

Me: Speaking of game plans, are stupid penalties in your playbook? It would seem to me that, yes, stupid penalties are a large part of your playbook.

Coughlin: We are working on the penalty situation.

Me: Are you aware that, during the game on Sunday, Joe Buck called the Giants “undisciplined?” Did you consider that as a slap in the face to all that you stand for? Does Joe Buck need to disciplined, and, if so, how many yards is a team typically penalized for disciplining an announcer? 15 yards? I would take that if I were you.

Coughlin: I do not listen to what the announcers say.

Me: Last season, after the Carolina loss, Tiki Barber went on to pass blame on everybody, and he specifically mentioned the coaching staff. Have you considered going on Tiki’s talk show to confront him about the statement? He has a talk show, right?

Coughlin: We are well past that incident by this point. Tiki and I have a great player-coach relationship. And I do not believe that he has a talk show.

Me: That’s weird. Anyway, one of your offensive lineman, Chris Snee, doubles as your son-in-law. That means he married your daughter, right?

Coughlin: Ummm, yeah.

Me: That is a great story! What a conflict of interest! Have you considered informing some of the game announcers of this little-known fact? I have never heard them mention it before!

Coughlin: It smells like sarcasm in here.

Me: My bad. Tom, for someone who seems so, oh, how should I put this – mean and boring – you really love getting the crowd pumped up during games. Was this your own idea, or did your publicist tell you to wave your arms like that?

Coughlin: I truly believe that the crowd can often be a 12th man on the field, and if I can help them get more involved, then I’ll do it. Anything to help us win.

Me: Many people – like my friend Joe – think that maybe you should spend less time trying to pump up the crowd, and more time telling Jeremy Shockey to stop being such an idiot.

Coughlin: I’ll take note of that. Do you have a pen?

Me: Wow, now you’re dishing out the sarcasm! You are cooler than I thought!

Coughlin: Thank you.

Me: Were you ever called as a witness to testify during Michael Strahan’s divorce trial, in order to confirm his record of staunch heterosexuality?

Coughlin: No, I was not. But if Michael had needed me to, I would have.

Me: If you did have to testify during the trial, would you have pumped up the jury in the same fashion that you pump up the crowd at the Meadowlands?

Coughlin: I don’t think they have juries for divorce proceedings.

Me: That is interesting. Many people have dubbed the NFC East as the toughest division ever in the history of organized sports. However, this division includes BOTH Drew Bledsoe and Mark Brunell. Please explain.

Coughlin: Well, I do believe that we play in the toughest division in the league this year. But that distinction has more to do with the overall talent than just two specific guys. Every team has explosive playmakers, a solid defense, and good coaching. And besides, Bledsoe and Brunell are not bad quarterbacks. They both have big game experience.

Me: True, but so does Joe Namath. Okay, one last question before I let you go. If Chris Snee and your daughter ever decide to have kids, will you take them to see “Cheaper by the Dozen IV?”

Coughlin: We’ll see. As long as there’s no foul language. And no Ashton Kutcher. I can’t stand that guy.

Me: Yeah, me neither. What a tool.

Joe Torre on love, life, and how to pick a winner

Well, I landed the big one. After playing imaginary phone tag for the past few months, I was finally able to reach Yankee’s manager Joe Torre, and convince him to sit down for the most exclusive of exclusive interviews. How did I do it? Let’s just say that my in-laws, like Torre, are from Brooklyn, and once that connection was made, any kind of refusal on Joe’s part would have been the equivalent of him wearing Red Sox underwear. People from Brooklyn stick together, whether they like it or not. Plus, I told him this was to benefit charity, which was a lie on my part. But whatever works. Anyway, here it is.

Me: Hi, Mr. Torre! It’s a pleasure to sit down with the most renowned Yankee manager since Stump Merrill. Can I call you ‘Papa Joe?’ That’s what my wife likes to call you whenever she sees you on TV.

Torre: Ummm, sure, I guess so. Why not.

Me: Great! Papa Joe, let me get this out of the way now, so there’s no confusion. This isn’t going to be like one of those “Center Stage” interviews, where I’m lobbing you softballs, and then patting you on the butt after you hit it out of the park, laughing hysterically all the while at whatever you say. I have more credibility than that. Are you cool with this?

Torre: Sure, I think I can handle the hardball questions. But just as a curiosity, where did you get your journalism degree?

Me: HEY! I’ll be asking the questions here! Okay Papa Joe, I’m going to be honest here. You haven’t seemed like yourself lately. You seem perpetually upset, or even agitated. You’ve been snapping at reporters. You’re not the Joe Torre I knew back in college – you’ve changed, man. You’ve always come across as one of the most approachable men in the game of baseball, but when you walked in here today, I was scared to approach you. Be honest with me here – is it A-Rod? C’mon, you can tell me.

Torre: Ya’ know, I don’t feel any different than I’ve felt in years past. But I think that things are getting to me a little more than they used to. Believe me – you can only hear so many questions about the Red Sox, and about your starting pitching, and about George Steinbrenner, before you start to snap. I probably do need to cool off a bit. And no – my change in demeanor has nothing to do with A-Rod.

Me: So, how many more game-ending double-plays will A-Rod have to ground into before he DOES start to affect your mood?

Torre: One more. Then you might actually see me run out of the dugout throwing haymakers.

Me: Now THAT’S what I’m talking about! Seriously though, we all know you looooooove to defend your players. You’d rather use words like “pressing” and “struggling,” instead of the more appropriate, “blowing chunks,” and “sent down to Columbus.” Other managers in the league have taken their players to task through the media. Why have you always refused to do this?

Torre: Because, what good would it do? With this team, and with pretty much any team I’ve had here in New York, it’s never been a question of effort with the guys. But players go in slumps. If Alex is struggling at the end of “big games,” then what good does it do for me to tell some reporter that he should be doing better in those situations? Alex knows that. It would only add more pressure, and that pressure is exactly why Alex is pressing.

Me: Do you know that you used the words “struggling” AND “pressing” in that response? Why don’t you try – just try – to say those last couple of sentences over again, using my advice. I think it might make you feel better.

Torre: All right. I’ll give a try. Ahem…If Alex is blowing chunks at the end of “big games,” then what good does it do for me to tell some reporter that he should be doing better in those situations? Alex knows that. It would only add more pressure, and that pressure is exactly why Alex is sent down to Columbus.

Me: SEE! See what I mean! How good did that feel?

Torre: Actually, I can’t lie - that felt pretty good.

Me: Okay, since you’re on the subject of “not lying,” tell me how much you hate Randy Johnson.

Torre: All right, let’s not go too far here. I certainly don’t hate Randy Johnson. He’s just strug…er,…trying to locate his pitches better.

Me: Wait, you mean his pitches aren’t supposed to go over the center field wall?

Torre: No, not exactly.

Me: He stinks. Papa Joe, here’s an interesting rhetorical question: If Carl Pavano and Kevin Brown pitched against each other, who would get injured first?

Torre: Wow…that’s a tough one. I don’t think I can answer that.

Me: Do you give up? Ha! It’s a trick question. They can’t pitch against each other, cause they’re both on the DL.

Torre: Wait, you said that was a rhetorical question, not a trick one.

Me: Whatever. Same thing. Speaking of injuries, the Yankees have had a lot of them this year. Please rank, in order, the reasons for this: a) age, b) steroids, c) most of these guys are million-dollar pansies.

Torre: Listen, I can’t rank the reasons behind these injuries. They’re part of the game, and they happen to every team. It just so happens that, this year, it seems like every other day somebody’s going down. But we still have to go out there and win. And the young guys, like Melky Cabrera, Robinson Cano, and Andy Phillips have helped us immensely. That said, a, c, and b.

Me: Interesting. Because of those injuries, your team has suddenly gone from "overpaid bunch of underachieving jerks who everyone hates" to "rag-tag group of overachievers who have taken the country by storm, and who have restored a national love affair with the game of baseball." Would you say that the current Yankees are similar to the movie "Rudy?"

Torre: Well, not really. I mean, the young guys have helped us out. A lot. But we still have a bunch of all-stars playing everyday, like Jeter, A-Rod, and Giambi. Plus, "Rudy" kind of sucked.

Me: Wow...didn't expect that. Okay, Papa Joe – you are famous for being completely stoic in the face of adversity. Yankee Stadium could be burning down around you, and there you’d be, calm as all heck, telling stupid Kelly Stinnett where the nearest exit is. But you’re also a notorious dugout nose-picker. Please explain.

Torre: I don’t know what it is, but it seems like every time the camera pans to me in the dugout, I’m digging for gold. Especially during the playoffs. All I can say is, baseball is a long, sometimes monotonous game, and oftentimes you mistake the dugout for your living room. Maybe I’m too calm out there.

Me: Yeah, that’s nasty. But also funny. Here’s one for ya’. Can you pinpoint the exact moment when your love affair with Tanyon Sturtze ended? Personally, I thought that was a love that would never die.

Torre: Very funny. And yes, I can. It was the ninth inning of a 14-3 loss at Boston on May 9th. That’s when I’d had enough.

Me: Was it a tough breakup?

Torre: Not really. I think we both knew it wouldn’t last.

Me: Is it awkward now when Tanyon walks by your office and sees you with Scott Proctor?

Torre: Okay, that’s enough.

Me: I have to ask you this Papa Joe, because it’s something I’ve always wondered. Does John Sterling turn into a giggling schoolgirl whenever he sees you? Do you roll your eyes when you see him prancing around the field during batting practice while he’s wearing glasses and an ascot? Do you hate having conversations with him, because you know that whatever you say will turn into one of those on-air, “So I was talking to Joe the other day…” stories? Be honest.

Torre: Ummm, no comment.

Me: Hey - I thought we were playing hardball here.

Torre: Well then, I guess you just struck me out.

Me: Sweet. Listen, I had so much more to ask you about, but we’re running out of time. Please give “Jorgie,” “Jete,” “Mo,” and the rest of the guys my best. Tell them I said they have to come over for pancakes. They’ll know what I’m talking about.

Torre: Sure thing.

Me: I’d shake your hand, but I don’t know where that finger’s been.

Torre: Understandable. But thanks for having me anyway. By the way, what charity does this benefit again?

Me: Oh, ummm…the children’s one. Ya’ know, the one for all the kids, who have like, problems or something. I’ll send you the pamphlet, if I can find it.

Torre: Sounds good. Do you know my address though?

Me: You’re from Brooklyn, right? One of my in-laws will find you.


Note: This was not a real interview. If you thought it was, consider yourself “Punk’d.” Or something similar.