Drew Bledsoe's One (1) Regret

Punter: Fuck. Me. That movie was horrible.

Ernest Borgnine: What do you mean? It was like the show.

Punter: That's the show? There was like no gaddamn format at all. It was like Calvinball without all the pesky legislation. You knew this and still paid money to see this shit? Did you really think that was worth even matinee rates?

Ernest Borgnine: It's...it's just like the show.

Punter: I should've taken the hint when they spelled out the colon. I mean, spelling out the colon is not all that clever. Why didn't they spell out--

Ernest Borgnine: Oh my goodness, look by the snack bar! You see who that is?

Punter: The midget in the wheelchair? He works here. I like that guy.

Ernest Borgnine: No, not him. Him!

Punter: Wow, that looks like Drew Bledsoe.

Ernest Borgnine: Goodness Gracious, That is Drew Bledsoe!

Punter: In a movie theatre in South Carolina?

Ernest Borgnine: I'm gonna smell his hair (walks over)

Punter: (following) I'm gonna laugh when he tries to hit you in the face with Ju Ju Bees and overthrows you.

Ernest Borgnine: Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude, but are you--

Drew Bledsoe: Yeah, I am. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Borgnine. I’m a huge fan of Airwolf.

Punter: I know; I wish they’d release the fucking DVDs already.

Ernest Borgnine: So what brings you this way, sir?

Drew Bledsoe: I'm here in Anderson for the weekend visiting family.

Punter: In a movie theater? Sounds like my family.

Drew Bledsoe: We're going to watch the Aqua Teen Hunger something show. I didn't really like the show, but my nephew said the movie will be different.

Punter: Oh, yeah. It's totally different from the show and very coherent. You'll love it.

Ernest Borgnine: Drew, it made me so sad to hear that you retired, and I just wanted to say that I loved watching you play all these years.

Drew Bledsoe: Thank you. I really appreciate that.

Punter: Fourteen years is good for anybody. You have any regrets?

Drew Bledsoe: Regrets?

Ernest Borgnine: Yeah.

Drew Bledsoe: (looks at the floor) Maybe one. (motions to his family) You guys go ahead. Save me a seat on the aisle. And don't sit directly behind someone unless the theatre is full. That's good movie etiquette.

Ernest Borgnine: That is good movie etiquette!

Drew Bledsoe: There was this one instance, before Super Bowl 36, that I had to make a difficult decision. It involved an intersection of my interests, both as a player, and as a person. And I knew, deep down, that no matter what, the decision would haunt me forever. It happened in the hotel room before the big game. I can remember it like it was yesterday…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drew: You wanted to see me, Coach?

Coach: Yeah, Drew, come on in. Have a seat over here on the bed.

Drew: Um, okay.

Coach: Look, Drew, I know this has been a traumatic season for you. And you know I'm announcing who will be our starter for the Super Bowl tomorrow. And, well, I think it would be only fair if I gave you a chance to earn the starting job back.

Drew: Aw, thanks coach, I really appreciate this. So, I'll be getting more reps in the walkthroughs this week?

Coach: Well, not exactly.

Drew: Oh. Well...will he and I be doing competitive drills in walkthroughs this week?

Coach: No, not exactly.

Drew: (confused) Um, then how will I be able to win my job back?

Coach: You see that red sweatshirt on the bed, Drew? That's my Little Red Riding sweatshirt. You see, Drew, I've been waiting for this moment since you were at Wazzou. I'm gonna put on that red sweatshirt and curl up on this bed with you. And then you and I are gonna fuck like wild seals in the Arctic night. Like a couple hamsters trying to eat each other. And if you can take the pounding that you know I can provide, right here, right now, you’ll be our starter.

Drew: Oh no.

Coach: Think about it, Drew. I'm gonna make you howl like the three-legged coyote in heat that you are. And then I'm gonna snap my offensive genius off in your ass. You’re gonna wish you were in prison, but it’s a small price to pay for worldwide glory.

Drew: Pl-please stop it, Coach.

Coach: Oh, Coach, what big eyes you have! Say it, you pissant!

Drew: This isn't right--

Coach: CALL ME GRANDMA YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!

Drew: (jumps off the bed) Whoa, whoa, uh, sorry...I'm sorry, coach. I - I can't do this.

Coach: (stands up) You do it, Andrew. You fucking do it or you're gonna get kicked around this league like a frozen dog turd on an Alaskan oilfield.

Drew: I'm sorry. (walks out)

Coach: Very well. (yells) Tommy! You're starting on Sunday!

Tom Brady: (from under the bed) Thanks, Mister! That's just swell!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drew Bledsoe: I was really conflicted about it for a while. You know, sacrificing my playing career to salvage my heterosexuality and to keep my anus free of internal lacerations. But after distancing myself from the game after all these minutes and discussing it with such well-adjusted people, I feel like I make the better of two tough choices.

Ernest Borgnine: Wow, Drew. What a horrible situation that must have been for you.

Punter: Shoulda fucked him, dude. That coulda been you wearing all those rings up in Foxboro.

Drew: You know, I was blessed to have played in the league for so long. I've really been fortunate, and I really have no regrets. It was nice meeting you both.

Ernest Borgnine: Take care of yourself.

Punter: See ya. (Drew walks away). No regrets, my ass. He's probably gonna beat off to that story tonight.

Ernest Borgnine: I thought he was a nice man. I mean, he put up with your foolishness.

Punter: My foolishness smells like roses.

Ernest Borgnine: So, d'you hear about that Imus fellow?

Punter: Totally overblown. Yeah, he's old and irrelevant, kinda like you, but he didn't say anything that would have been out of place in a rap video or a Dave Chappelle skit.

Ernest Borgnine: Well, I'm glad they let him go. I think it serves him right.

Punter: Just goes to show that white people will always be taken more seriously than black people.

Ernest Borgnine: That's not true.

Punter: Hey, can we stop back at your place before we go bowling? I've really gotta take a shit.

Ernest Borgnine: Sure, you just have to pay the cover charge. Ten bucks.

Punter: Great. Can you break a fifty?

Update: Actually, all four seasons of Airwolf are available on DVD now. Jan Michael Vincent will drink to that, I'm sure. -MMP

KSK Mock Draft: Movie Action Scenes In Which We'd Like to Star

Each week leading up to the draft, we at KSK will be holding a mock draft of our own in the category of our choosing. This week, we're picking cinematic action sequences we wish we could be a part of (the dangling preposition sounds better). The rules: (1) No sex scenes, and (2) once a movie has been selected, no one else can select a different scene from that movie. Draft order was serpentine and determined by first come, first serve.

In order to increase the awesomeness, I embedded or linked to as many of the scenes as possible. Say goodbye to the rest of your day.

ROUND ONE

1. Captain Caveman: The Battle of Stirling, Braveheart

I don't care that Mel Gibson is a fucking lunatic. Horses get ruined, hamstrings get sliced, blood splashes on the camera, and large, blunt objects smash people's skulls. Sign me up. Bonus: if you start "Welcome to the Jungle" when the people start running at each other, the song meshes perfectly and ends when Wallace throws his sword and it sticks in the ground. I'm not kidding. It's fucking cool. (This narrowly beat out William Wallace's first revenge scene where he pretends to surrender, then smashes a dude's face with a mace in slo-mo and drives a rack of antlers through another guy's throat. Sa-WEET!)

2. Unsilent Majority: THE car chase, Bullitt



"Is there anything on Earth better than a great car chase? I think not. This was the one that set the tone for for generations to come. You've got American muscle cars (Mustang vs. Charger) racing through the hills of San Francisco (Crazy Taxi come to life) culminating with a badass explosion. If you don't have a man-crush on Steve McQueen you're probably gay."

3. Big Daddy Drew: Battle of Pepellenor Fields, Lord of the Rings: Return of the King

"I want to either ride the big fucking elephant or be one of those ghosts that sweeps along and fucks shit up. Awesome shit."

4. Christmas Ape: Opening Battle, Gladiator

Good scene. Excellent use of burning Germans. However, it's an absolute waste of a pick. This is MAYBE the third-best scene in the movie. I would have taken either the first arena battle (man wearing Minotaur costume gets stabbed by one of the big German guys from Beerfest; delightful use of mace and trident; buckets of blood; wall-spike impaling; prominent double-sword decapitation) or the "Carthage" arena battle in Rome (guy beaten to death with helmet, archer chick sawed in half by chariot axle). In fact, that scene's so sweet I'm gonna post video of it. Screw Ape's pick.



5. Monday Morning Punter: the Big, Sweet, Long-Ass Car Chase, Ronin.

"Only I would definitely not be flashing the brights and shooting out the window a lot more."

6. flubby: Sonny getting gunned down at the tollbooth, The Godfather.

His reasoning: "Not really sure what this draft is all about." The email subject line in the thread I started was "Mock Draft: Action Scenes We Want to Be a Part of." flubby does a lot of drugs.

ROUND TWO

7. flub: Deckard versus Roy at the end of Blade Runner

A cool scene, but no fucking way I'd want to be a part of a scene where my enemy saves my life, makes a preachy "tears in the rain" speech, then dies without me killing him.

8. MMP: Hoth Battle, beginning of The Empire Strikes Back

"I REALLY wanted to pick Vader vs. Skywalker, but since this draft already has so much depth at dork, I feel a need to be a little more creative with my selection... How often do you get to fly a speeder, watch your co-pilot get shot while you yourself are virtually unscathed, crash, use a grappling hook to throw a grenade into another walker, and then flee the scene in another craft reserved for your exclusive use? That's what I thought."

9. Xmas Ape: Final fight, Drunken Master II

"I'm tanked and kicking everyone's ass with impeccable moves. It's about 10 minutes of the best fight choreography ever. People disrespect Jackie Chan because of the painfully goofy shit he's done since coming to the U.S. but his body of work is amazing and this is probably the best example of it."

10. BDD: Post-robbery street shootout, Heat


"Wearing a suit and shooting people with a bottomless assault rifle has long been a dream of mine. It really doesn't get any better than that. And I'm wearing sunglasses while doing it! I also liked it when Sizemore used the little girl as a human shield. Children make great human shields."

This pick destroyed my will to live. I came up with the idea for this draft SOLELY to pick this scene. I was hoping to steal it in the second round because there was no way Braveheart would fall that far. And tubby civilians like Drew can't even understand the full awesomeness of the scene. This is pretty much the only scene in cinematic history where villains employ the basics of fire and movement and show some knowledge about marksmanship, sighting in and firing from a stable position whenever possible. (Drew's right about the bottomless assault rifle, though. A 30-round magazine doesn't last that long on an AR-15 when you've got it set to full auto.)

11. UM: Final scene, Léon (known by Americans as The Professional)

"This is where things get tricky. Yes, Leon dies, but that's not about to discourage me. He kills himself along with Gary Oldman ( always a good idea) in order to save a 12 year-old Lolita named Natalie Portman. If I had to go early this is the way I'd do it. Nothing beats the old ring trick."

Further proof UM is TERRIBLE at these drafts.

12. CC: Morpheus's rescue from The Matrix.

This is one long motherfucking action scene. You get to go through security strapped with guns, shred a marble lobby and do a one-handed cartwheel while shooting people, run on a wall and kick somebody in the face, blow up an elevator shaft, jump out of a building into a helicopter, fire a minigun, crash the helicopter into an office building, dodge bullets, have a superfast flying kung fu fight, and make a guy get hit by a subway train. That's your money's worth right there.

ROUND THREE

13. CC: The climactic scene from A History of Violence.

It's not as long as I might like, but it's my lifelong dream to axe-stomp somebody's Adam's apple.

14. UM: Major Kong riding the bomb, Dr. Strangelove

"Hmmm...I might have a death wish. But who cares? The world was about to be destroyed and jumping out of a plane while riding a nuke seems like it would be a damn good time. "

15. BDD: The helicopter attack in Apocalypse Now

"I win. Have a nice ride home, everyone."

Drew's damn pleased with himself. It's a great scene because of "Ride of the Valkyries" and Robert Duvall saying badass things ("Music?" "Yeah, I use Wagner. Scares the hell outta the slopes"), but as far as helicopters fucking shit up the better bet is Black Hawk Down.

16. Xmas Ape: Huge fight scene at O-Ren Ishii's, Kill Bill Vol. 1

"I have to be a chick, but I get to take out tons of people single-handedly in brutal, beautifully realized ways."



Nice pick. If I got to be Uma Thurman for that scene I'd find a way to take a shower afterwards. You know, to soap up my breasts.

17. MMP: Opening Scene, The Replacement Killers.

"Chow Yun Fat walks in, blows a bunch of holes into people, walks out. Best scene in the whole fucking movie. Plus, my name would be Chow Yun Fat. Tits and tits."

18. flub: Time-travel, Superman 2

flubby made this pick several days after we had stopped discussing the draft. I had to remind him to make his final pick. By this time he had finally figured out the point of the draft: "Superman makes time go backwards by reversing the Earth's rotation. I'd go back to [last] Friday morning and make sure my dumb ass understood what exactly we were drafting."

There you go. Disturbing windows into our psyches. flubby has brain damage, Unsilent wants to die, and I prefer an intimate, hands-on murder to some fiery explosion. Even though Drew claimed victory, UM made a solid point: "How can you win? This is all about what I'd like to live out (and if I die who cares, the movie's over)."

So think about that while you mock us for leaving out Saving Private Ryan, True Romance, El Mariachi, both Bourne movies, Fight Club, the sword fight from The Princess Bride, the running chase from Casino Royale, Finding Nemo, et cetera and so on. I, for one, already regret not grabbing the opportunity to be the T-1000 from Terminator 2. I missed my chance to turn my hands into blades and stab people in the face. Damn.

UPDATE: Drew would like to point out that I missed the fact that he switched out his first pick with the opening scene from Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Leave The Gun, Take The Bukkake (Pt. 4)

The hoary, gimmicky pop culture comparison post is a familiar one to the blogging community - y'know, wherein a writer likens sports teams to any number of components within a category of cultural arcana, be they Smurfs, brands of beer and members of the federal judiciary, then draws tenuous similarities.

Well, the writers at KSK are above such things (we’re too busy genuflecting at the altar of Bill Simmons, that sagacious Sports Guy, who was first to conceive of combining the worlds of “sports” and “not sports”). That is, the six superior KSK writers to myself are, but it's the middle of the week, there's space to fill and the prime movie season approaches, soooo - what the hey! - here's a list of which film director would be best fit to direct a movie about each NFL team:



AFC South:

Houston -- Uwe Boll

I haven't seen any of Boll's films and I can't say I watch many of the Texans' games. They always seem to show up in stock footage of star players making exceptional plays, or in the case of Mark Brunell, setting hollow records. Both are synonymous with aggressive suckiness. The Texans could take a page out of Boll's playbook and force all of the team's detractors into a boxing match with Mario Williams. At least, then, he'd be useful.

Indianapolis -- Chris Columbus

A bane to moviegoers everywhere. Look at the string of high-concept turdlets this bundle of fuck put out in the '90s alone: Home Alone (1990), Only The Lonely (1991), Home Alone 2: Lost Up His Ass (1992), Mrs. Doubtfire (1993), Nine Months (1995), Stepmom (1998), Bicentennial Man (1999). Yet these movies made a ton of money and people always talk about them. I bet Peyton loves all of 'em. I bet on Manning Family Film Night (always the Monday after both brothers have been eliminated from the playoffs) Peyton and Eli sit too close to the screen and yuk out their blues to Mrs. Doubtfire, singing "Dude Looks Like A Lady" while tossing popcorn at each other blithely and making jokes about a drive-by fruiting, but, uh, with popcorn.

Jacksonville -- John Waters

A shame Waters is so fond of his native Baltimore because he would fit right in in a city as tacky and backwater as Jacksonville. I mean, they had All-Teal Stadium a few weeks ago, only Waters is capable of coming up with something that delightfully bad.

Observe from his appearance on Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous:

Tennessee -- Robert Zemeckis

Not any particularly outstanding parallel between Zemeckis and the Titans. They're two solid but not terribly exceptional figures in their respective fields with a few bright spots ("Back to the Future"; a Super Bowl appearance) but have fallen on hard times recently. Why Zemeckis? Because Tom Hanks was a Titans fan in Cast Away. Of course, I could be lying but you really want to watch that movie again (and you'd excused for missing it the first time around) to make sure?

AFC West:

Denver -- M. Night Shyamalan

There's truth in the axiom, "When all you have is a hammer, everything begins to look like a nail." Now, when your "hammer" is "filming techniques stolen from Hitchcock mixed with forced and ham-fisted twist endings," you start producing shit like The Village, Signs and Lady in the Water. And when all you have is an overacheving cut-blocking offensive line, you begin to think you can win with Jake Plummer and stick whatever running back you see fit into your system without fail, even Mo Clarett.

Full disclosure: I once interviewed Shyamalan for my college paper. Basically, I got a free flight to New York, a free stay in a four-star hotel and $125 a day room service tab courtesy of Disney (there's no ethics in college papers, you see). The movie I was there to interview him about was Signs. That's like taking a vacation to Hawaii only to go to the DMV. And he's every bit the overweening douche you'd expect him to be. He kept comparing his film favorably to Night of the Living Dead ("Swing away, M. Night!") and pronounced "horror" with a nasally hawrour. And Joaquin Phoenix was totally bombed out his box.

Kansas City -- George Lucas

The Chiefs were once a great team, and it's been so long since then it's almost an inconceivable concept. Them blowing Home Field Advantage in 1995 was tantamount to Episode I, so we weren't too surprised when they did it again in 1997 and blew another first-round bye in 2003. And, for all the hype about how they revamp their defense each year, they might as well sell Happy Meal figurines of Kendrell Bell and Ty Law.

Oakland -- Vincent Gallo

I was all ready to go with McG here, but Caveman was quick to suggest Gallo and he put it better than I could: "Vincent Gallo is the only person who churns out ugly, shitty failures with no redeeming value. I mean, how can you get a blowjob on-screen wrong? You cast a man like Chloe Sevigny to give it, that's how." And how do you let Roger Ebert make you look stupid? These are all hallmark Raider qualities. And Gallo was also once quoted saying, "I stopped painting in 1990 at the peak of my success just to deny people my beautiful paintings, and I did it out of spite." Jerry Porter is intriqued by his ideas and would like to subscribe to his newsletter. Al Davis, however, is not impressed.

San Diego -- Adam McKay

People call me the Bolts; I'm the stylish one of the division. I know what you're asking yourself and the answer is yes. I have a nickname for my penis. Its called the Murph', but I also nicknamed my testes - my left one is Dan Fouts and my right one is Kellen Winslow. You ladies play your cards right you just might get to meet the whole gang.

I sometimes feel a pang of sympathy for the people of San Diego because they're going to have to deal with incessant Anchorman quotes from outsiders for years to come. But then I remember that they have perfect weather year-round, so they can go eat a big red candle.

Leave The Gun, Take The Bukkake (Pt. 3)

The hoary, gimmicky pop culture comparison post is a familiar one to the blogging community - y'know, wherein a writer likens sports teams to any number of components within a category of cultural arcana, be they Smurfs, brands of beer and members of the federal judiciary, then draws tenuous similarities.

Well, the writers at KSK are above such things (we’re too busy genuflecting at the altar of Bill Simmons, that sagacious Sports Guy, who was first to conceive of combining the worlds of “sports” and “not sports”). That is, the six superior KSK writers to myself are, but it's the middle of the week, there's space to fill and the prime movie season approaches, soooo - what the hey! - here's a list of which film director would be best fit to direct a movie about each NFL team:

AFC East:

Buffalo -- John Ford

Because nobody circles the wagons like the Buffalo Bills. /berman

Also, Ford directed a World War II drama titled, "They Were Expendable." Sounds about right for this team.

Miami -- Almodovar

I suppose if any team was going to get a Spanish-speaking director it was going to be this one. Sucks for you, Little Havana, he's a Spaniard. But, anyway, Daunte Culpepper looks like a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown and the team likes bright kitschy colors and so does this guy. That scene from Talk To Her, where that miniature guy walks into that woman's vagina, was quite nice for an otherwise extremely long, depressing movie. What does that have to do with the Dolphins? Dunno, but warrants mentioning.

New England -- Wes Anderson

Another example of confused genius. Granted, the guy does twee better than anyone in the business. Rushmore and The Royal Tenenbaums are fine, fine movies. Bottle Rocket has its charms. And that was an awfully cute American Express commercial they played every time I went to the movies for 8 months. But find one of Wes' legions of hipster supporters and the unremitting touting of his greatness will make your ears bleed whimsy. Recently, like Patriot fans, their cries have gotten even more shrill as they've seen the wobbly, rudderless shit that was The Life Aquatic and they know all too well that the writing is on the wall. See also: Soderbergh, Steven; Anderson, Paul Thomas.

New York Jets -- Brett Ratner

The Jets like to pretend they're from New York and Ratner likes to imagine that he's black. It should be noted that Eric Mangini (who did a nice job with the James Bond theme, btw) has had the inverse (viz. positive) effect than what Ratner had on the X-Men series. If this pairing did occur, we'd see a lot of Stuart Scott in this movie. Or Christ Tucker playing Stuart Scott. But seriously, someone stop this man. Quentin Tarantino was mentioned for similar reasons, and that would be nice just to see the RZA get involved but Tarantino's too busy cribbing shit from French New Wave and old Hong Kong flicks.

AFC North:

Baltimore -- Brian De Palma

Fametracker, a site that I'm most fond of, refers to this guy as the Hackmaster General and I couldn't agree more. He also makes Harry Knowles' dick hard, which is another fine reason why he should never be allowed to work again. Who else considers Scarface to be the most overrated, overdone piece of shit ever shat? Apparently not the fake thugs at your local mall who make airbrushed shirts of Tony Montana. Like the Ravens, De Palma had one success with The Untouchables and has been foundering ever since. He's also into crime flicks, so that fits nicely with Bodymore, Murderland. I'd also like to nominate Brian Billick as the Undersecretary of Hacking Douches, if I may.

Cincinnati -- Baz Luhrmann

Lots of style, little substance. Luhrmann likes his big musical dance numbers and would value Chad HUGHson's ballroom training. Chris Henry drinks with the green absinthe fairy to forget how much he really wants to cover an Elton John song in a major motion picture. This could be his chance to get that monkey off his back.

Cleveland -- Terry Zwigoff

I know, another example of a director being too good for the team to which he is assigned. But Zwigoff has a knack for finding the humor in depressing, hopeless people and their desolate surroundings. Also, he already did a film about someone from Cleveland - temporarily - (Crumb), and it would just be cruel to foist the project on someone who's never been there. Basically, he's already fucked with a city that wasn't clean.

Pittsburgh -- Frank Capra

Capra and the Steelers achieved massive popularity by appealing to the lowest common denominator, in a way by being proxy symbols for putative American values. Capra: Honesty in government, vague Christian morality, Jimmy Stahewrt and war propaganda. Steelers: Blue-collar drinking tour, killing miniature ponies and lining up and playing smashmouth football and not letting the other team trick you and stuff. Sorry, doesn't always play out that way. Gov'tmint is full of crooks, UM killed Jesus, and the Steelers win Super Bowls on trick plays. I'm so disillusioned.

Leave The Gun, Take The Bukkake (Pt. 2)

The hoary, gimmicky pop culture comparison post is a familiar one to the blogging community - y'know, wherein a writer likens sports teams to any number of components within a category of cultural arcana, be they Smurfs, brands of beer and members of the federal judiciary, then draws tenuous similarities.

Well, the writers at KSK are above such things (we’re too busy genuflecting at the altar of Bill Simmons, that sagacious Sports Guy, who was first to conceive of combining the worlds of “sports” and “not sports”). That is, the six superior KSK writers to myself are, but it's the middle of the week, there's space to fill and the prime movie season approaches, soooo - what the hey! - here's a list of which film director would be best fit to direct a movie about each NFL team:

NFC South:

Atlanta -- Keenen Ivory Wayans

I have the same incredulous reaction everytime I notice that the Falcons have put up more than 24 points and when one of Wayans' insipid movies is topping the box office. Maybe I'm watching them at the wrong times but the Falcons seem to have the easiest offense in the world to stop. Teams stack eight in the box and Vick does the rest by two-hopping balls to Atlanta's receivers coach on the sideline. The box office thing can be blamed on submoronic people with no taste and a penchant for stolid race-themed humor. Still baffling nonetheless. Oh, and, Black Q-Back Ron Mexico Gonna Scramble Sucka Then Jump Up And Down On The Couch Just Like Tom Cruise HAHAHA is slated for a 2007 release.

Carolina -- Robert Altman

Altman's first credited film, from 1951, is a five minute documentary called "Modern Football." Football is a sport that could probably be summed up in five minutes in 1951, but the Panthers are indicative of how far the league and sport have gone in recent years. The players take newer and more illicit drugs by the day, and even their cheerleaders are testing the boundaries of sexual mores. And there are black quarterbacks now, and black coaches, and one black owner, upp, nevermind - Reggie Fowler got bumped to minority owner. They even put a team in Carolina, ferchrissakes. Altman made Nashville, so maybe he's equipped to deal with filming in a shithole like Charlotte.

New Orleans -- Spike Lee

Well, now the city is all repaired because they've had a game in the Superdome, I guess there's nothing left for him to make another movie about. I was rather looking forward to Spike doing his trademark character-stands-still-while-background-moves dramatic shot with Reggie Bush 18 times. Also, Sean Payton's breathless racial tirade into the mirror. Too bad. Good luck finding some more racism in America. Ask Stephen Colbert.

Tampa Bay -- Morgan Spurlock

This would probably match up nicer if Spurlock had been a public, rather than a private, failure for most of his life. However, he made a successful documentary illustrating what we all already knew - that McDonald's has shitty, unhealthy food - something already laid out by Fast Food Nation (the book, not the upcoming movie that somehow has nothing to do with the book) and he parlayed it into a TV series as well. That lines up with how Gruden was successful with Dungy's team, right? No? Okay, well, I think he fucked up his spleen during Super Size Me, so there you go.

NFC West:

Arizona -- Ingmar Bergman

Wouldn't the Cardinals' games be that much easier to watch if they were filmed in black and white by a Swedish auteur? I think so. The requisite tragedy is all there. Existential gloom, sure. The team couldn't get Pink Taco Stadium so the only way to improve things, short of actually fielding a winning team is getting Will Leitch playing chess against the Grim Repear for the prize of Kurt Warner's soul.

San Francisco -- Francis Ford Coppola

Ah, fading former greats done in by their fuckwit families. The 49ers were better off with Eddie DeBartolo and the mob and Coppola was better off turning shitty Mario Puzo books into cinematic gold. Now Denise York is driving the team into the Bay and hiring Nazi coaches, while Sofia and Roman are making pretentious indie films that are ruining the good name of a guy who produces overpriced plonk you can buy at the grocery store.

St. Louis -- Guy Ritchie or John Woo

Weren't these two guys making some flashy, visceral movies for a minute? Guy Richtie made exciting, albeit derivative, caper films with dogs eating diamonds and bunnies getting proper fucked. And, uh, John Woo's characters had two guns! Two fucking guns! That's, uh, I think, yes! One per hand! And all those doves, so symbolic for... something or other. I don't know, they're doves. But Guy Richtie was ruined by some Italian twatblossom who thinks she's British and John Woo by coming to America. Same falloff with these Rams, Mike Martz left and now they're just some decent power running team. Ho-hum.

Seattle -- Oliver Stone

The refs are out to get us! What? D-Jax pushed off Chris Hope right in front of the line judge in the endzone? Fuck. You. Man. Bush pushed off Gore in Florida and no one called that shit. Tick. E. Tack. I know Roethlisberger didn't make it over the goal line like no planes hit the Pentagon on 9/11. Wheels within wheels. Remember when we had those great WTO protests here in 1999? That's the sound and fury you get every time you walk into Qwest Field. We're not corporate thugs here in Qwest. Hold on, can't hear you, dude. Let me turn down the crowd noise pumping through these speakers.

Leave The Gun, Take The Bukkake (Pt. 1)

The hoary, gimmicky pop culture comparison post is a familiar one to the blogging community - y'know, wherein a writer likens sports teams to any number of components within a category of cultural arcana, be they Smurfs, brands of beer and members of the federal judiciary, then draws tenuous similarities.

Well, the writers at KSK are above such things (we’re too busy genuflecting at the altar of Bill Simmons, that sagacious Sports Guy, who was first to conceive of combining the worlds of “sports” and “not sports”). That is, the six superior KSK writers to myself are, but it's the middle of the week, there's space to fill and the prime movie season approaches, soooo - what the hey! - here's a list of which film director would be best fit to direct a movie about each NFL team:

NFC East:

Dallas -- Tony Scott

The poor man's Michael Mann ("The Poor Mann?") is usually good for an explosion-laden few hours of emptyheaded ultraviolence. Once in a while, this turns out well - Top Gun, The Last Boy Scout, Man on Fire - and the rest of the time it's just loud, gormless and overdone. And a lot of the dumb people you know, and there are a lot of them, will go on and on about how much they love the 'splosions and that Days of Thunder was really, really good.

New York Giants -- Kevin Smith

They're both from Jersey and love warmed-over gay jokes. Tom Coughlin gets outcoached by Mike Holmgren and Smith's cinematic eye is dwarfed even by the Farrelly Brothers. Both have seen significant contributors fall prey to substance abuse: Jason Mewes, heroin; LT, everything. Snootch to the booch, losers.

Philadelphia -- Martin Scorsese

Ah, this one is bound to raise some hackles. "But he's from New York!" you carp. "He's too good for the Iggles!" Both are valid points. However, it all boils down to the fact that Scorsese, like Thrilly, can't win the big one even though it seems like both should have by now. The Departed looks promising and a lot of sportswriters are improbably picking the Eagles to go to the Super Bowl. And the Super Bowl goes to...Dances With Wolves.

Washington -- Michael Bay

Give them enough money and they'll give you a sad excuse to waste yours. Pearl Harbor and the Deion Sanders signing are similarly epic, costly blunders. Roland Emmerich or James Cameron could probably also fit here, but Cameron is too cool now that he's been on Entourage. I go with Bay because it has already come to pass - UM reported that crew from The Transformers Movie was on hand Sunday at FedEx for the Jags-Indigenous Peoples game to get film of Brunell morphing into a decent quarterback for a week.

NFC North:

Chicago -- Ridley Scott

Right now, they're the balls. And they have more versatility than people give them credit for. Maybe it's from wearing Meryl Streep's fragrance. Chicago's defense can hit you with a Gladiator, a Black Hawk Down, an Alien, a Blade Runner and then Rex Grossman can go all G.I. Jane or Thelma and Louise. Seems like they got everything covered. A caveat, though: there's a Kingdom of Heaven in there also, so don't think you're all invincible and shit. And that's Sir Ridley Scott to you, cheesedick.

Detroit -- Christopher Guest

Who doesn't want to see Eugene Levy playing Matt Millen? Who doesn't think he's already more qualified to run the Lions? The problem with this is that everyone knows Fred Willard gets the annoying announcer role. Is there a black guy in his ensemble that can follow the droll non-football exploits of the retired Barry Sanders? I see him traveling around the country looking to buy antique racist lawn jockeys.

Green Bay -- Ron Howard

I feel like Peter King has already shopped this project to a studio with Howard attached. Of course, in King's version, not only does he gloss over decades of Packer history, the film erases all world history previous to Brett Favre's first start with the Packers in 1992, and presages endtimes with his impending retirement. Expect lots of Starbucks product placements and sappy musical overlays to long close-ups.

Minnesota -- Sofia Coppola

You were expecting Jackie Treehorn, weren't you? You're funny, that's what you are. I was ready to be very generous to the Vikings here and let them have Minnesota's own Brothers Coen, however undeserving the team might be of them. But Drew interjected with Sofia, because, she, like the Vikings' offense, is quiet and shitty. I suppose so. But Sofia is the director of overhyped pieces of meandering shit like Lost in Translation, and no one gives a double dong about the Vikes. Let's meet halfway, Drew.