Monday, December 12, 2011

Twitter Ephemera: Mike Florio

I'm not sure what Mike Florio's purpose is, but his weekly appearances on NBC's Football Night in America are keeping him from discovering it. Each week, he faux-banters with Peter King while trying to make reading a Huffington Post listicle of the day's football news off an iPad2 seem natural. Usually it seems the opposite.

Unengaged by news or analysis, the viewer is left to stare at Florio's complexion and let his mind wander. Instead of someone like Collinsworth or Dungy breaking down film, Florio reveals that some vampires aren't sexless teens, sexless Victorians or street-brawling brutes who also have sex. For some, the Dark Gift manifests as little more than looking like a pallid, venial, social-climbing CPA who apparently cannot die.

This isn't entirely fair to Florio. If he could glitter in sunlight, we'd at least think of him as a lovable, portable rave. And it's true that his site, (I'm guessing), breaks some news among the rumors that it breaks and then forgets about when they get embarrassing. He occasionally even mounts the righteous steed of Costasness, but that doesn't work out too well. Some people are just too small for that ride.

So when Mike runs down the latest football news that was summarized during halftimes, gamebreaks and color commentary during that day's games — feeding bullet-pointed nuggets you can find just by reading, say, Richard Dietsch's Twitter feed — you start to wonder what the point is. If you are the sort of person for whom an injury to Brandon Marshall manifests in a joyful or sad expression on your face, you're the sort of person who already knows about it by 7:00 p.m. Eastern.

Eventually, staring at Florio is like looking at the NBC matrix: behind his suit and the set and the lights is a greenbacked source code, dripping down your TV picture, dissolved into waste by the oblivion that is the bottom of the screen. By the time he appears on the postgame show to reiterate aggregated Twitter newsbits from the pre-game and from the rest of the day, it's impossible not to feel that you are staring at a football-quoting Wikipediatric.

Given the above, it's time that Florio stop offering the Wikipedia of sports news and instead become a Wiki newscaster. As long as his information is crowd-sourced to this degree, we should exert some level of control. Since Florio's stories are invariably anyone else's, they might as well be ours. If anything, it can only increase the potential entertainment factor. Look for Mike to break the following stories next week, about the league and himself:

Packers' Greg Jennings was injured when a defensive player elbowed him in the butthole, so Jennings will be out two weeks with a butthole.

Martin Gramatica once jumped so hard at the chance to leave our club for being Cool Spies that he accidentally broke my heart.

DeMarco Murray will be out with Dance Fever.

Early reports indicate that Plaxico Burress has accidentally shot himself in the other leg inside Tom Dempsey's Club Foot.

The FAKE AND GAY Eagles are still in the playoff hunt after beating The Butt-Tards today, 420-69.

Team sources say that Albert Haynesworth's contract rider requires a specific type of club sandwich — one involving pancakes, foie gras, and entire boneless turkeys — be provided to him at halftime of each game.

Haynesworth and his agent have denied the rumor, citing a handshake agreement with the team's GM that he be provided with an oblong pie made of "phyllo dough wrapped around every kind of dark meat stuffed inside of every kind of white meat," which he calls, "The Boof Pennington."

To reach competitive balance with large-market teams and their TV contracts, Jerry Jones demanded that the NFL increase the cost of Mustache Rides to $20.4 billion.

Meanwhile, sources close to Rex Ryan and his wife did say, "Zeppelindor truffles. Mega-ass 420.Hitlerballs."

Despite NFL scheduling to the contrary, the Tampon Bay Fuckinqueers lost to the New Fagland Gaytriots, "1488 to Over 9,000" in a game played inside my mom.

Critics of Ben Roethlisberger mention that he... wait a minute. None of this part of the Wiki was altered. I can't read this.

Terrell Owens admitted to training for a 2012 comeback by sleeping in a hyperbaric chamber with "Jesus' clothes" and also "bones of the saints, like Theresa of Ávila and Kirill of Beloozero."

The innocent Cowboys cheerleader tackled by Jason Witten? Turns out she has ties to known Basque separatist groups! Bang it here for more.

Jason Garrett was fired by 90,000 text messages after Jerry Jones ordered his number be posted to the Jumbotron.

Matt Hasselbeck is now totally hairless, like one of those cats.

Remember the movie Tremors? Now, remember Brett Favre's penis? Check back tomorrow at for something big. Or not.

It doesn't take a sing-off to find the prime suspect in terms of who is the biggest loser tonight: namely, whomever simultaneously ripped off the Playboy Clubs in big cities like New York, Boston and Los Angeles. But many people in our office community remain grim about the prospect of staying up all night to chuck the responsibility at a suspect identified tentatively as "Whitney Parks." For the latest in this breach of law and order, check back at Rock Center, dateline tomorrow, only on NBC. Celebrity Apprentice.

Darelle Revis' cornerback play is so smothering that he has promised to put Eagles' WR DeSean Jackson in "Fart Fuck Hell." Kiss the Devil, Bob.


  1. Cheers and credit go to a few hardy contributors who made some tweets about Wiki Mike Florio. Their contributions are linked on the bullet points.

  2. Nice job there, dressing that guy down for lazily regurgitating a bunch of idle tweetering and then pretending it's content.

    That's something the Destructo Sports Bureau would never, ever stoop to. Especially not on a Sunday night.

  3. The joke about Haynesworth's club sandwich reminded me that the Seattle running back has a man on the sideline who gives him a handful of skittles when he scores. This literally happens, on camera.

  4. Nice job there, dressing that guy down for lazily regurgitating a bunch of idle tweetering and then pretending it's content.

    That's something the Destructo Sports Bureau would never, ever stoop to. Especially not on a Sunday night.

    It's tempting to ask if you're connected with a pro Not Getting It agency or if this is just a hobby for you, but the ugly byproduct of asking you a question will be your not getting it and then answering with some other not-getting-it-thing, which will provoke another response you will not-get, and you'll keep spiraling after that shit like a stray dog in the street, chasing its tail until it starves to death.

  5. I am a Bears fan (grown up and lived in suburbs of Chicago my whole life) and even when the Bears are playing on a Sunday night I can't bring myself to watch the broadcast (I'll listen to the radio feed). NBC's crew is awful on so many levels and then you top it off with Florio's... information(?). It's too much. My eyes and ears start to bleed. Excellent post here, spot on. Also, "Despite NFL scheduling to the contrary, the Tampon Bay Fuckinqueers lost to the New Fagland Gaytriots, '1488 to Over 9,000' in a game played inside my mom" fucking killed me. Great stuff.

  6. Good article... I'm subscribed to Florio's feed and I hate myself for it.

  7. Florio is Costas minus 40 IQ points. Putting him in the same studio as Tony Dungy, Rodney Harrison, and Peter King is like the superfecta of insipid moralizers who'd sell out their own mothers to protect THE NATIONAL FOOTBALL LEAGUE.

  8. Oh, and truth is more retarded than fiction. Let us not forget the PFT exclusive: "Terry Bradshaw Dead?"

  9. Even though I enjoyed the tweets, the name Mike Florio doesn't leap out at me in any way. Maybe that's because I don't watch Football Night in America since Rodney Harrison pisses me off so much.

    I'm thinking of those year-end awards from the Onion AV Club- the Least Essential Awards. Based on your description of the guy, Florio would win the Least Essential Sports Personality.

  10. Wait....doesn't Matt Hassleback have Alopecia Totalis?


Et tu, Mr. Destructo? is a politics, sports and media blog whose purpose is to tell jokes or be really right about things. All of us have real jobs and don't need the hassle that telling jokes here might occasion, which is why some contributors find it more tasteful to pretend to be dead mass murderers.